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I kiss her shoulder, rewarding her for talking, but she still hasn’t told me anything specific. I need details, Mills! I need to know whose ass to kick.
“Every time I thought I’d found my happily ever after, something happened—a car accident killed the first man I thought I loved.”
My heart breaks for her.
“I guess I became broken, numb to the world after that. With each man I was with after, I tried so hard to be perfect. I tried to have the perfect relationship, afraid that if I wasn’t enough, it would be taken from me.”
She cries, I feel her warm tears falling onto my arm wrapped around her front. Still, I don’t let myself comfort her beyond holding her.
“I thought I was enough to keep them. I tried to be the perfect partner. I lost weight or gained weight to be beautiful in their eyes. I learned to cook fabulous meals and would be exactly what they wanted in bed. Sometimes I was wild; other times, I was innocent, adventurous, whatever it was they craved. But it was never enough to keep them. Eventually, they all left.”
She sucks back a sob. I squeeze her as tight as I can.
Just get it all out, baby. Get it all out.
“I know I’m not good enough to be in a relationship. To get married. I would never make a good wife. And I can’t handle any more heartbreak. But thank you for giving me a night where, for once, I felt worthy.”
I can’t take it anymore. She may not feel she was abused. But whatever these men did to her, it was borderline abuse. They wrecked her confidence. Destroyed her hope for a real relationship. And I won’t have it.
I turn her toward me until we are lying on the pillow eye to eye. What I have to say is important, and I need her to start believing my words. It’s the first step toward healing. I take her hands in mine.
“Millie, you weren’t the one who failed in your relationships—they were. Those guys weren’t worthy of you. E
ven the guy who died, he never even gave you an orgasm. That’s not love. That’s not romance. That’s a man who doesn’t realize your worth. Millie, you are incredible, and you would make an incredible wife someday if that’s what you want. Don’t let any man or any past relationship tell you differently.”
My heart throbs as I speak. I could be that man. I could be the man who shows her her worth. Who values her above everything else. Who loves her.
Now that’s just crazy, my mind reminds me. You’re a bachelor for life. Millie might make a great wife, but you would make a terrible real husband.
“Do you hear me?”
She nods.
“Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
I kiss her sweetly on the forehead, but it’s as much for me as it is to comfort her.
“Now, tell me about the man who keeps texting and calling you, the man you are afraid of. What of him?”
Her eyes flick to the phone on the nightstand like she just now thought of him, and I curse myself for bringing him up and ruining this moment, but I need to know. I need to know who she’s running from.
“He’s an ex.”
“Did he hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “Trust me, it was me—not him that broke us up.”
I frown. I know deep into my heart that it wasn’t Millie who messed up the relationship. She’s not capable of doing anything wrong, anything to make a man leave. But I know now isn’t the time to argue.
“It’s him you’re running from, right? He’s the reason we are going to be fake married for six months? So you can show him that you’ve moved on, and he’ll leave you alone?”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Will you help me?”
I pull her to my chest. “I’ll do anything for you. If it means staying married for longer than six months, I’ll do that too.”
She shakes her head, but this time, I don’t let her speak. I might just need this relationship to last longer than six months myself. Already, I can’t imagine the pain at her leaving.
