Page 132 of Love What's Left
She rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh.”
“You want out of your contract early. I want the world to view me as someone who’s settled down. I can’t think of anyone more steady and normal to marry than a chemical engineer and former collegiate athlete.”
“Getting married won’t convince people of anything.”
“It’s only one piece in the big picture. I also plan to become more hands-on with our charities,” I say.
“Why do you care what people think at all?”
I lean back in my chair and prepare to sell this proposal. “Having a reputation as a steady, married man will be good for business.”
She gapes, her mouth opening and closing as though she’s incapable of forming a coherent thought, let alone speaking.
It’s not exactly a flattering reaction.
“I’m open to negotiate terms. I would expect you to participate in public and family events with the purpose of providing proof of our happy relationship. A nondisclosure is a given. Anything I provide for you during our marriage, such as clothing, jewelry, gifts, or cash, are yours to keep. I plan to be generous.”
“We’d be miserable.”
I don’t believe that for a second.I force a shrug. “Or we continue as we are for the next three years.”
“It would make more sense for you to find someone else without our history or complications.” Her face and voice go sour when she mentions the possibility of another woman.
She’s jealous. The thought probably shouldn’t fill me with triumph. “I have no interest in finding someone else.”
“Why not?”
“MaybeI’m madly in love with you, and this is my last-ditch effort to win your affection.” I smirk but map every twitch in her expression to gauge her reaction.
Her brows come together. She busies herself with rearranging her napkin, then she looks back up at me and offers a saccharine smile. “If that were actually true, I’d feel sorry for you and your unattainable dreams.”
I cover my disappointment with an expression of boredom. I nearly fake a yawn at her venom but pull back. It’d be too far, and she’d clock me. “Does it matter why? I have the ability to release you from your existing contract early. You have something I want. And we’re both conveniently here at the right place and time. One more year. Then no more surprise interruptions. No more life in a gilded cage. No more waiting to see what I come up with next or for me to walk in the door with your favorite coffee, only to drag you off on another trip for ‘work’ that was really just another vacation,” I coax.
Legs crossed beneath the table, her foot bobs with nervous energy, an outward sign of the chaos roiling within her. The tablecloth flutters each time her foot moves. “I can’t actually be considering this,” she mutters. She spears me with a glance. “I’d need to keep my own apartment.”
Fuck that. “No. As my wife, you’d live with me. If you don’t like my place, we’ll choose a new home together.”
“I understand that, but I’d need to have a place to go if you ever . . .”
“If Iwhat?”
“If I feel unsafe with you.”
My breath stutters. Nausea crawls up my throat. “You’re afraid of me?”
“No. But there’s no telling what can happen in the future. People can be different when they live in the same space or when they’re under the influence. And if you’re bringing people to screw into our home, I want a warning so Ican leave. I’m not listening to that, and I’m not waking up to find strangers where I sleep.”
Her childhood was full of it, I know. She’s told me.
“Having extramarital sex would defeat the entire purpose of this marriage. Neither one of us will be sleeping with anyone else. And I won’t be under the influence of anything stronger than a couple of Advil. I would cut off my own arm before I hurt you.”
“I’ve heard promises before. I still want to keep my apartment.”
“If you run off to a bolt-hole every time you’re annoyed, people will question our relationship,” I say.
“Put the apartment in a prenup. I want ownership. It’s a hard limit for me. But I promise I’ll only stay there if I feel unsafe, you’ve been drinking or using, or you bring someone into our home to party or have sex.”
Since I won’t be doing any of those things, she won’t be going anywhere. “It’s a reasonable compromise. You won’t have cause to use that apartment even once.”
