Page 99 of Perfect Satisfaction

Her posture doesn’t relax in the slightest.

Without another word, she moves into her office. I’m frozen until I hear the door lock with a snick. If I know her, she’s going to pretend our kiss didn’t happen—rebuilding the fortress around her heart until the walls are so high no one will ever try to scale them.

Keeping her from loving.

Keeping her from being hurt again.

By me.

CHAPTERFORTY-NINE

Kissing a hurt doesn’t always make things better. In fact, sometimes it just adds germs to an open wound.

—Moore You Want

I can’t crawl into bed with herand not touch her. I can’t crawl into bed and not hold her.

Instead, I stand in the shower with my forearms braced against the tile as tears burn. I’d like to be able to blame the shampoo, but I haven’t even started soaping my body.

“You’re playing a dangerous game with your wife’s heart, Arek.”I can hear Liza’s voice berating me.

As much as I’d love to lay the blame for our current situation solely on the other men in her past, I’ve finally come to the conclusion I hold more than my fair share of responsibility for our present situation.

Why should my wife trust me when I hurt her—her and someone she considered family?

For the very first time, I think about what I would have done if the roles were reversed, and I cringe. Now I have a better understanding of the childhood she lived as Ursula Moore, daughter of that bastard West Moore—a man who still tries to pull the strings beyond the grave. I don’t comprehend how her delicate shoulders bear the weight of the emotional scars that she carries for something that wasn’t her fault. Nor have I stopped kicking myself in the ass for throwing that kind of love away over pride.

What damage have I done to this fierce woman?

In the back of my head, forgiveness seeps in as easily as the warm water washes over me. “Even if she did seek solace with Basset, it’s done. She’s here. She’s mine. I just need to get to know my wife again as if I’ve never known her before.”

I rub my fingers together. “What other memories are buried deep inside her?”

My legs won’t support me any longer. I sit down in the oversized shower and let the water pelt against my skin. Drawing up my knees, I wrap my arms around them.

How does one go about breaking down walls that were fortified by my own actions?

I hide in the shower for a long time thinking about it.

When I finally get out, Sula’s not in bed. I head into the main living area and see the light on in her suite. Her voice can be faintly heard on the phone.

Even knowing she won’t be coming any time soon, I head back to our bed to lie down.

And think some more about how to win back my wife's heart before it’s too late.

CHAPTERFIFTY

Edison wrote about the perils of overwork. I think he was terrified of breaking the glass surrounding one of his precious newfangled lightbulbs.

Meanwhile, I’m burning the candle at both ends.

Don’t worry, I’ve got a handle on the flames. I won’t get singed.

—Moore You Want

It’s late. The night is still.

The penthouse feels empty even though it’s anything but that.