Page 41 of Forever Fighting
“Is it a good thing I married you?”
His lips twitch. “Time will tell with that.”
“You didn’t like it when he and I got together, did you?”
He laughs lightly, almost as if he’s shocked I knew that. But I did. I know Roman Fritz. He’s the ventricle to my aorta. My heart doesn’t beat or perfuse my organs without him pushing it along.
He chooses his words carefully. “I wanted you to be happy again. More than anything else in this world, I wanted that for you. He seemed to do that for you. With that, I liked you with him just fine.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He blows out a strained breath. “No. I didn’t like it when you got together with him.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything to me? All those years he and I were together, I had an inkling, but you never talked about it, and anytime I’d ask or seek your thoughts, you never gave them to me about him.”
He shrugs. “I was worried you’d date him, and it wouldn’tend well. Or that it would, and he’d take you from me because you’d be his and I’d lose what we had. But he came in and swept you off your feet, and you were happy. And things between us stayed as they were.”
I can’t imagine ever pulling away from Roman.
I wrap my arms around his chest and hug myself against him. He does the same in return, holding me and rocking us gently.
“I hate that I wasted so much time when I could have been doing a million other things. Meeting a million other people.”
He draws back, and his chin dips. “You don’t need to meet a million other people. All you need is to see what’s in your world a little differently than you have before.”
I go to question him when it’s suddenly our turn to order, and decisions must be made. Important decisions because let’s be real here, this is gelato, and it all looks delicious. After that, there’s no more heavy talk. We eat gelato and wander from hotel to hotel, talking for hours, until it’s almost dawn. When I’m too exhausted to make it back to our villa, he carries me the rest of the way and tucks me into bed.
And I refuse to think deeper about any of it, even if his words from the gelato line continue to recycle themselves through my mind.
13
ROMAN
The Yucatán heat nails us in the face like a one-two punch. Honestly, I’m shocked we got here. Yes, I had to come for work, but I thought after everything that happened in Vegas, Braelyn would have fled home. The girl continues to surprise me.
“Yeesh. Glad I didn’t bother to straighten my hair,” Braelyn comments, taking her curls and twisting them up on top of her head into a bun. Despite her best efforts, she has some gravity-defying wisps framing her face. “This humidity is no joke. All week I’m going to look like I’ve been electrocuted.”
“That’s different from how you regularly look?”
She smacks my arm, making me laugh. “Curly hair is both a blessing and a curse. Same with freckled skin and seeing how bright that sun is outside those doors, I’m going to have to be liberal with the SPF.”
Yesterday, it was like she finally switched to vacation mode, shut off her brain, and stopped asking questions about the details. Then again, she was pretty fried after our all-night walk. She spent most of yesterday lounging by the pool while I was at the restaurant for a few hours, making sure everythingwas as it should be. Now we’re here, and even though I’m here to work, being in Mexico and going to a resort for a week feels different than it did in Vegas.
“Come on. The car’s waiting for us.”
Her phone rings in her purse and she fishes it out, only to tense. Adam. She sends him to voicemail and a moment later, my phone rings. Great.
“Are you going to answer him?” she asks.
“Not right now.”
“What will you tell him when you speak to him?”
“Not that we’re married, don’t worry.” Shockingly, it’s been an easier secret to keep than I anticipated. I simply removed my wedding band before I went to the restaurant yesterday and that was that. “I don’t know. I’ll figure that out before I call him back.”
Without another word, I wheel our bags over to where the car is waiting for us. No luggage pickup here. We had to go through customs. The driver collects our things and we settle in for the drive. Thirty-five minutes later, we pull into the main building, and I get a look.
“This is very swanky.”
