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And now, this beautiful, powerful man—her man—was in love with another woman. A cocktail waitress. She laughed despite herself. Talk about a step down.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m sorry.” She lifted a hand to her forehead and rubbed it. “Fuck.”
This sucked, and mostly because he wouldn’t bring this up unless it was serious. And if it was serious, then it was an issue. “What does she know about me?”
“Enough to understand the situation. She doesn’t need me to do anything.”
“You mean, leave me? She doesn’t need you to leave me?” The words came out harsher than she had intended, and his face hardened in response.
“I’ll never leave you. You know that.”
He emphasized the word “leave” and that was a tell in itself. He wanted a divorce. He would support her, protect her, but wanted a divorce. What did a world look like without him as her husband?
She shook her head. “No. I can’t. He’ll…” She looked up at him. “He’ll kill me.”
She whispered the statement and believed every word of it. Her father would kill her. Not physically, but the mental strain, the exhaustive chess games of manipulation he played, the stress and the torture he would put her through… she’d be back on a rooftop, wanting to end it. Only this time, there wouldn’t be a Dario to save her. This time, she’d jump.
“Gwen.”
Her father could fix this. One call and he’d take care of the girl. She’d be gone, and Gwen would be safe for another decade, maybe longer. Dario wasn’t a man who fell in love easily. Even their marriage, their ten years together … it had never been true love—not the sort of reckless heady emotion between two souls. Their love had grown slowly, a friendship, fed with mutual respect and adoration for each other.
Her breath stalled at the path she’d just considered. That was the danger in being Robert Hawk’s daughter. Spend enough time around evil, and you start accepting the options it provided.
She looked at her husband. “How long has this been going on?”
“Not long. A month or so. Less than two.”
The signs were all there. Gwen had known about him ending things with Meghan, had noticed the new suite that he’d pulled out of the rental pool. Suite 908. A new home for a new girl. Typical behavior, yet when combined with his late nights and distraction, it was alarming. Her anxiety worsened.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m not doing anything right now except talking to you about this.”
“No.” She shook her head, a short and jerky movement that caused a twinge of pain in her neck. “No. You can’t.” She pulled her hand away. “You promised me.”
He had promised her safety, to be a conduit between her and her father. He promised to be her right-hand, to help her rebuild The Majestic’s reputation. He had promised to marry her, to take her out of that house, to give her a new life. He had delivered on all of those promises, for all of this time. He couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t throw her away just because he had fallen in love.
Love. God. How terrible was she to not want him to be in love? He deserved that. He’d done so much for her. Was it fair for her to hold him hostage?
“Don’t make me be this way.” She held his eyes and begged him with her gaze. “I just … I’m not ready. You can date her, you can love her, just don’t… don’t leave me.”
She was pathetic. Where was the strong woman that was supposed to reign over this town? Where was the woman who had done so many great things in the last decade?
But Dario had been beside her with all of those things. Encouraging her. Comforting her when she was exhausted. Giving her a kick in the ass when she was afraid. Handling the dirty details while her hands remained clean.
She stared at him and saw a pain that matched her own. He was one of two of the best men she knew, and her confidence in his loyalty had been unquestioned. He’d never ask anything if it would cause her pain, yet as she searched his face for an answer, she only saw disaster.
Thirty-One
BELL
“So….?” Meredith raised an eyebrow at me and turned away from the stove, a prepackaged bag of chicken stir-fry beginning to crackle in the skillet. “How was San Diego?”
I popped a baby carrot into my mouth and leaned against the kitchen counter, buying some time as I crunched through it. While I’d confessed to her my continued relationship with Dario, I hadn’t shared any details about Gwen’s father. “It was good.”
“Good?” She put down the spatula and crossed her arms over her chest. “Come on now. We’re alone in the house, for the first time in forever. Spill. Is his bratwurst as talented as it is delicious? Or is he all sizzle and no substance?”
