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“I apologize for barging in, but I don’t care about the dress. I care about you.”
Warmth spreads through me.
“The designer’s not coming back after what you said.”
“I’ll address her however I wish when she’s saying ignorant things about my wife.”
Around us, the living room is quiet, the only sound Barney pacing the floor.
“I agree her customer service skills need work.” I cross to the sofa and sink onto it, the dress still half held up by my arms. “But you can’t be like this. Unreasonable. Unyielding.”
His profile is harsh and beautiful as he looks across the room. His throat bobs under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “I won’t apologize for expecting the best for you.”
“What about security last night? I said no, and you went over my head.”
“To protect you.”
That’s the problem. There’s always a reason. Always an excuse.
“That doesn’t make it okay. The ends don’t justify the means.” I play with the edge of the bodice, its delicate ivory lace. “You’ve bent the world to your will. When you’re not looking, it’s going to break. You act like the only way to live, the best way to live, is the way you do it. The rest of the world doesn’t live like this.”
“They’re careless.”
“They’re happy,” I counter.
He flinches.
That was more honest than I intended.
We’ve been arguing over small things this week, but rather than resolving them, they all piled on top of one another. Together, their weight is pressing down on me. On us.
Nails on the hardwood and a nose at my palm alert me to Barney’s presence. I stroke his head without looking up. Harrison’s dress shoes enter my vision, the only indication he’s closed the distance between us.
He threads his fingers through mine, turning my palm up so he can rub his thumb across the crown tattoo on my wrist.
“You know I love you, Raegan.”
I shove the hair out of my face and look up at him. “I know.”
I do. His commitment, his devotion, has never been at issue.
“Then let me ask you one question, and your answer will shape everything that comes after.” He takes a breath. “Do you want to call this off?”
His words are so low I can almost imagine he didn’t say them. Except as I take in his tormented expression, the look in his eyes, the tension in his body, makes it clear he did.
My heart wrenches.
It’s worse than how I felt blacking out a few minutes ago.
I love you.
More than anything.
But I don’t want to live this way.
“Maybe it’s the timing,” I say softly. “We’ve both been busy. Normally I’d swear I’m the luckiest woman in the world. With my life. With you. But this week, I’m here in the luckiest city, and nothing has gone right.”
“That’s not true.”
