Page 33 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
Whatever he had to say would likely crush my heart all over again but the thing I feared the most was that everything he had just said was true.
Nick
“Fuck!” I shouted at my dashboard. The speed of my truck matched the rhythm of my frantic heartbeat.
Emmy wasn’t going to forgive me. I could see it in her eyes.
I had foolishly hoped that by spending time together, we could get back to where we had been once. That maybe she’d let go of the past and I wouldn’t have to tell her the truth.
But that was just a fucking pipe dream.
My only chance was by laying it all out there. Years ago, I had made the decision to leave her for her own safety. We hadn’t talked about it the night we’d gotten married, but I’d known she had money. Money that would attract the evil and soul-destroying demons that were my family.
So I had ripped out my own heart to save hers.
The image of her the morning I’d left was burned into my brain. Her naked body sleeping peacefully, draped over the place where I had been lying. Her beautiful hair spread down her bare back and all over the pillows. A small smile playing on her rosy lips.
I remembered gently lifting a strand of hair off her porcelain face before whispering that I loved her. Words she had never heard me say. And then with an aching hole in my chest, I’d silently crept from the hotel suite, leaving behind the only person who could bring warmth to my cold heart.
Nine years and I could still hear the click of that fucking hotel room door.
She had been better off without me. Back then, I had been too deep into my family’s dangerous life to keep her safe.
I had vowed to stay far away but things were different now. She was here. And I had learned that living a life without warmth was no life at all.
The moment I had laid eyes on her again, the heat had spread like wildfire through my chest. And I’d known I would fight to the death to win her back. Every minute that I’d spent with her this week had reinforced my desire to keep fighting.
The boyfriend could go fuck himself. She was mine.
Emmy had been an incredible person nine years ago, but somehow time had managed to make her even better.
She was so fucking smart and witty. Never once had she flaunted her wealth. If anything, she took extra measures to ensure those around her weren’t intimidated or threatened by it. She was kind and loving. The way she beamed at Rowen Cleary made me desperately want to see that light shine on kids we made together.
And beautiful. She was breathtaking.
Today on the mountain, with her flushed cheeks and pink nose, it had taken every ounce of my willpower not to take her right there in the trees.
“Fuck the secrets.” No matter what it would take, I was getting my wife back. My Emmy.
Even if that meant telling her things I’d sworn never to reveal.
“Did you move there for him?” Logan asked.
I clenched my phone tighter. “No, I didn’t move here for him. I just told you, I didn’t even know he lived here. If you need the private investigator’s reports to prove I didn’t know, I’ll send them over tonight.”
“I don’t know if I can believe you.”
Tears dripped down my cheeks. Wow, that hurt. “How can you say that, Logan? I have never lied to you.”
“Really? You don’t think that not telling me you were still married was a lie?”
“No, I mean, yes. I just . . . I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. But it wasn’t to hurt you.”
“Did you call Fred Andrews?” he asked.
“Yes. I talked to him right after I found Nick. He’s working on the divorce papers.” I waited on the phone, listening to Logan breathe.
“I don’t know what to do here, sweetheart.” His soft voice caused a fresh wave of tears.
