Page 136 of Perfect Satisfaction

“Do you want the actuals? Ask your favorite solicitors since the will has been sealed,” Sula says sweetly.

“Sweetheart,” I soothe her.

“As best as I can remember it from the voice memo he left . . .” She adopts a haughty sneer and quotes, “‘Should you fulfill this last obligation—one that would not be an issue had you brought your marriage to me instead of hiding it—neither you nor your brothers will have need to fear the remainder of the terms of the estate. All monies, stock, and homes will be placed into a new estate the three of you will be responsible for dividing equitably, with the exception of the MSW shares intended for Joshua to run the company and the amount paid to your husband at the time of your divorce. Do not let your family down, Ursula.’”

“I thought estates were public record in England.”

“This is West Moore, Arek. As one of the richest individuals in the world, there wasn’t much he couldn’t accomplish. Even his lawyers admitted there were some ‘unusual bequests’ and tried to explain to us we needed to show ‘dignity and understanding’ for his heirs. No offense, since you’re now a part of this, but what a bunch of malarkey.”

I swear under my breath. “That’s a hell of a fucking burden, Sula! So far as you know, you not disclosing your relationship with your brothers is keeping, what, half a million people employed? Wait, brothers?”

She rubs her head. “Something like that.”

“There’s more than one?”

She doesn’t answer, which is an answer unto itself. West Moore had more children, and he has them all dancing on a string.

I put my glass on a shelf with a picture of Sula wearing a ridiculous elf hat next to her sister-in-law in what looks like an old English country house. Trying to relieve some of her tension, I joke while massaging the back of her neck. “So, tomorrow? I’m meeting one of my brothers-in-law for the first time. Should I bring flowers? Candy? Beer?”

Sula’s shoulders shake beneath my fingers. “There will be enough crap backstage. Don’t worry about it.”

“And you? What do you need?”

She turns and launches herself into my arms. “You just gave it to me.”

“What did I do?”

“You listened. You didn’t judge. I told... him. I knew you would. I knew you could.”

Her words hit me right in the heart. “It’s not that you don’t trust me, it’s that you can’t?”

“I made a vow. I gave my promise.” Her words are filled with anxiety.

That hits me deeply. “You don’t give promises easily.”

“But I’ll keep them forever.”

“I love you, Sula.” My eyes trace over her face as she absorbs the impact of those words—the wonder, the fear. “Can you tell me why you can’t say it back when you’ve already admitted it? Everything you do tells me you love me too.”

“Until I can tell you the rest, is it fair for me to love you with secrets?”

“Yes.” I yank her against me savagely. “We’ve wasted too much time saying nothing and almost losing everything.”

Her head falls back, eyes hooded. “No, we haven’t because I never fell out of love with you.”

Instead of kissing her for her courage in acknowledging what I knew she couldn’t admit at my grandfather’s, I pull her down to the Aubusson rug beneath our feet. Within seconds, I’m jerking away just enough clothes to get to her skin.

For long moments after, the only sounds between us are moans, sighs, and avowals of love.

After I collapse next to my wife, I finally feel like maybe, just maybe, this will work out.

CHAPTERSEVENTY

EXCLUSIVE! VIDEO!

Behind the scenes in Dallas, Texas.

@brendanblake and @beckettmiller backstage before their show in Dallas practicing their new duet.