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“I get it. I do,” she insists as she turns on the hot water and lets it run. “I know you’re the power behind Frost Industries and as your wife—even if I didn’t build any of this company—I’ll still get a bunch of rights just because of who I’m married to. It sucks, but that’s the way things are in the world.”
“You know, most people wouldn’t actually think that part sucks.”
“I know.” She levels me with a cool, inscrutable glance before stepping under the water. “But I’m not most people.”
And fuck. There Brandon is, right between us again.
Ignoring the hand she holds up to ward me off, I step into the shower with its numerous showerheads and steam-room capabilities. It’s the size of a small room, which gives me plenty of space to find my own showerhead and get clean. But that’s not what Chloe needs from me right now, no matter what she thinks.
So instead of doing my own version of Chloe’s quick rinse-off, I step up behind her and pull her into my arms, her back to my chest.
She struggles at first—“Ethan, I’ve got to get ready for work”—but it doesn’t take more than a few seconds before she’s sagging against me, resting the back of her head on my shoulder and just standing there under the warm and steady stream of water.
“I’m going to see him while I’m in Boston,” I tell her after a minute, bracing for the explosion I know is coming.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, she just sags against me a little more as she wraps her arms backward around my waist. “I know.”
The quiet acceptance is the last thing I was expecting. “Brandon, Chloe. I’m going to see Brandon.”
“I know who you meant, Ethan.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say about it? After all the arguments we’ve had over this?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. I just—I thought I’d have more explaining to do.” A lot more. I want to turn her around, to look into her eyes and see what she’s really feeling. But when I try, she holds fast to the position we’re in. I could push it, but since I figure I’m already doing enough of that right now, I just let it go.
Still, her easy acceptance doesn’t make sense. Not when this has been such a huge battle between us for weeks now. Not when she’d left me twice over it. Not when she’d begged me, just the other day, to stop.
She shrugs. “I knew this was coming from the second you told me you were going to Boston.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“What’s there to say, babe? You’re going to do what you’re going to do.” She doesn’t sound angry, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about the situation. Not when her voice is so flat. Not when she won’t even look at me.
Suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. I drop my arms from around her, ignoring her resistance when I all but force her to turn around and face me. Then I tilt her face up to meet mine. “It’s not like that this time. I swear to you. I’ve done a lot of thinking about what you said and I’m trying to do what you want. So instead of putting the next stage of my plan into action, I’m just going to go talk to him. And if he’ll back off the race, if he’ll walk away from politics, then that will be the end. I won’t pursue this any further. Okay?”
“And if he doesn’t back off?”
“I don’t know. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’ll talk to my mother, talk to his father. Try to find a way around it that we can both live with. Okay?”
For long seconds, it’s like she forgets to breathe. But then, suddenly, the tension just leaks out of her and she’s left standing there, staring up at me with tears in her eyes and a look of absolute wonder on her face. “Are you serious right now?” she demands. “Do you mean it?”
“I do.” My stomach clenches but I just take a deep breath, once again making the conscious decision to step back from this. It’s the same decision I made the other day after Chloe and I spoke on the beach. “I don’t agree with you about how things are going to go. I’m pretty sure I could carry out my whole plan without Brandon being able to do a damn thing to either one of us—”
“No! He’ll—”
I hold a hand up, wait for her to stop arguing and just listen to me the way I’ve tried so hard to listen to her. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds. “But I understand where you’re coming from. I know why you’re afraid. He’s been the bogeyman to you for so long—I get that. I really do. And while I’m not afraid of him, I am afraid of hurting you. The last thing I want is to start our marriage with you terrified of what I’m going to do and what problems I’m going to cause. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve more than that.”
The tears spill over now, roll slowly down her cheeks. But she’s smiling, and it’s a huge, genuine smile, so it’s worth the fact that saying this—doing this—is eating me up on the inside. I want to make Brandon pay for what he did to Chloe more than I want to breathe. More than I want to wake up tomorrow morning. More than I want anything in this world…except Chloe’s happiness. And that’s the kicker. That’s what has my hands tied and my stomach roiling. It’s what has me stepping back, playing it her way for a while. And praying that it’s enough, for both of our sakes.
“But he can’t run for Congress,” I tell her. “I can live with him not going to jail, but I won’t be able to live with myself if he gets elected and gets more power and more chances to abuse other women.”
“I know that.” She nods against me. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. But I want you to know it means everything to me that you’re willing to put aside your anger and walk away from this. I know how hard it is for you, and that you’re willing to try…I can’t describe how relieved I am.”
Yeah. Try is the important word in that sentence. I’m going to try to walk away and hope it doesn’t give me a fucking stroke.
Brandon isn’t what matters here, I remind myself. Chloe is and this decision puts her mind at ease. So I’m just going to go with it. I’m going to do what she says and let go the rest of my plan to make Brandon pay.
