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I have to be honest with him, if there's any chance for us to be together. It’s going to mean baring my soul to him. Then again, considering how I gave myself up to him in bed, I don’t think there’s anything about me this man doesn’t know. Going into this relationship. I knew I was exposing myself completely.
I had to give myself up and submit to him, then find myself all over again.
I never imagined my husband, while so dominant in our power-play, would shrink from offering me a chance to see his soul, as well. I’m disappointed that he hasn’t been half as honest with me. I’m also angry he hasn’t come to see me yet. That he’d keep his distance, knowing how much he’s already hurt me? I’m so damn angry. And you know what? I’m not going to let him get away with it. I’m going to fight for us. I’m going to make him fight for us.
I tilt up my chin, then set my jaw. "I’m going to confront him."
48
Quentin
"You wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit you in the arse," my son growls at me from the other side of my desk.
Funny, I've tried to get him to come into the office and take interest in what we do here but couldn’t get him within a mile of the office. Today, for the first time ever, he’s here. And for what? To chew me out over how I treat my wife?
It’s been three days since that discussion with her sister, which was very enlightening. I intend to see my wife, apologize, and beg for her forgiveness, but I’m having difficulty formulating my speech. Yep, for the first time, I’m at a loss for words. I wrote down what I was going to tell her, then tore it up and threw it away. Many times. I want to do something—something to back up my words, to show her how much I mean it. And so far, I’ve had zero ideas.
What should I do to woo her?
What do you give a woman who has enough money in the bank to buy herself anything she wants? And her sister and father are taken care of. How else can I show her how serious I am about getting back together? I’ve gone around in circles in my head. I decided to shut myself up in my office and cancel all my meetings and calls until I think this through and come up with a plan.
I didn’t go home, either, because I needed to mull over my mistakes. I need to do something that will blow her mind. I need to... show her how much I love her. I need to be with her. I only have to tell her I love her. I know she loves me and yet... confessing my love to her is proving to be so bloody difficult. To expose myself completely like that feels like I’m making myself too vulnerable. And what if it's already too late? What if I’ve pissed her off so badly, she’ll never forgive me?
I’ve never been this indecisive in my life. She’s reduced me to a man who barely knows his mind anymore. Speaking of… "How do you know we had a fight?" I scowl. "Did you?—"
"Find out about it? Arthur told me. And before you ask, he heard about it from Sinclair."
I frown. I called Sinclair out of desperation, and to brainstorm ideas for how to make things up with my wife. He was taken aback, at first. Then, he laughed and welcomed me to the club of men who realize their lives are nothing without their women. Then, he congratulated me on becoming an honest man. Then, he told me to kindly fuck off and figure things out for myself. He added that, if I love her, I’ll be able to. No pressure there. Then, a thought strikes me. "Arthur’s been talking to you?"
“He’s concerned about you.
I make a rude noise.
My son laughs. “Now you know how it feels to be in my shoes.”
“What do you mean?” I scowl.
“You and Arthur are cut from the same cloth. Like Arthur, you only talk to me when you want something from me."
"That’s not true—" I begin to protest, but he holds up his hand.
"Don’t bother to deny it."
I clamp my lips shut. There’s no winning with my son. And anything I say will be used against me. It’s best to shut up and let him say his piece. When I stay silent, he scoffs, "Nothing to say for yourself?"
I throw up my hands. "When I tried to defend myself, you shut me up. Now, when I stay quiet, you get pissed off. What would you like, son?"
His frown deepens. "I wish you wouldn’t call me that."
"I wish Arthur weren’t my father, either, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?"
He slowly straightens to his full height. "Except you got her. You don’t realize how lucky you are.”
I do, actually.
He leans forward on the balls of his feet. “From what I hear, you’re breaking her heart, and you don’t fucking care."
The band around my chest tightens. My belly ties itself in knots. I care more than you realize. More than anyone realizes. But I’m going to make sure she does.
