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He pours his fourth drink, but instead of drinking it, he stares down into his glass. The silence stretches but I know it’s best to not speak and let him think through the thoughts in his head.
"I’ve made it clear; I want you,” he finally growls.
"No argument there."
His lips twist. "But seeing the two of you together, I realize... I realize, I need time to get Felix on board with the situation.”
“You mean?”
"I’m saying,” he looks up at me and there’s a decisiveness to features. “I mean, I'm going to postpone the wedding."
"So that’s a good thing, right? That he postponed the wedding?" Zoey’s face stares back at me from the screen of my phone.
That’s what I have been telling myself. I know Felix is not the man for me. As for his father? I have conflicted feelings where Quentin is concerned. I cannot ignore the powerful pull I feel for him. At the same time, I am stricken by guilt that I am so attracted to my ex-boyfriend's father. It’s so wrong that I compare the two of them in my head.
Felix is younger, has less life experience. He is finding himself, as am I. While Quentin… He’s finding himself in a different way. I sense the deep-rooted hurt in him, and not just from whatever happened between him and Ryot when they were in the Marines. It’s something more than that. Something on a personal level. Perhaps something to do with his wife? He never talks about her. Was he so in love with her, that when she left, he never got over her?
Felix, too, never talks about his mother. All I know is that she left when he was two years old, and he’s never seen her since. Felix is convinced Quentin is responsible for her leaving. But I know a lot of Q’s behavior was down to the fact that he was focused on his duty to his country and also that he suspected Felix’s mother was cheating on him. It’s not my place to tell Felix that though.
The situation is more complicated than what I envisaged when I agreed to marry Quentin. I knew I was attracted to him, but I hadn’t accounted for my growing feelings for Q.
Or that I’d get to know the man behind that gruff exterior. Someone who cares about me. Someone who's struggling to reconcile his differences with his son. Someone who's remorseful about the incident that caused the death of Ryot’s wife. Someone who does not regret his past as a Marine. There are so many facets to Quentin, and that makes him more of an enigma. It makes him complex and confusing, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to solve the puzzle that's Quentin Davenport.
"Vivian?" Zoey’s voice cuts through the thoughts in my head. "You there?"
"Yeah, sorry, I’m confused. I thought he needed to marry me in order to firm up his role as the CEO of a company within the Davenport Group."
"There is that." She nods slowly. "So, what’s he going to do about it, you think?"
"I don’t know." When I woke up this morning, the house was empty. Quentin must have gone to work. Not sure where Felix is… He’s probably sulking that I left him to go after Quentin last night. After that declaration, Quentin went up to his room. I retreated to mine, took a shower and, despite thinking I wouldn’t sleep a wink, I drifted off as soon as I laid my head on my pillow. And since I got fired from my job, I have nowhere to be.
"What are you going to do now?" Zoey searches my features.
I being to pace. "I have no idea." Lizzie's on a tour with the ballet school. My father's on an outing with his new caretaker. Apparently, now that I have money, neither of them need my presence. Quentin was right. Time is the one thing money can’t buy. Something that’s sinking in now.
"You could… paint?"
I stop pacing and stare at her. "Paint?"
"Isn’t that the one thing you said had suffered all these years? Now you have the space to do it."
"I… am not sure I’m in the mood for it."
"I’m not a painter, but I do deal with writers, and what I've learned is that when you are at your lowest, is when you’re able to create the best," she offers.
I half smile. She's right. The last few years, the only way I’ve managed to survive is by channeling all of my angst into my paintings. Granted, I didn’t have that much time to explore my creativity, but whenever I managed to focus, I was happy with the results.
Zoey looks away, then back at me. "I wasn’t going to share this yet, but given the circumstances, I think I should."
"What is it?" I frown.
"Remember the pictures I took of your paintings?"
I nod slowly.
"My friend, the gallery owner, loved your work."
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