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The bedroom door opened.
His wife marched right up to him, her head held high. “Hold out your hand.”
He refused, crossing his arms over his chest.
A hardness he’d never seen covered her face. She deposited the rings in the cradle his arms made. “I don’t want you accusing me of stealing your things.” Turning to Sasha, she said, “You’re my witness.”
“I’ll email you the annulment papers,” Christian said stiffly.
“Good.”
She spun on her heel, smacking into the table in front of her. Pausing to rub her hip, her profile revealed her wince of pain. However, she didn’t say a word while hobbling away.
He clenched his teeth together, afraid he’d call out to her. It wouldn’t be the first time she walked out of his life.
But for damn sure it would be the last.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tears ran down Zoe’s face as her mother drove her home. She thought she would have been all dried out by now. Then again, Leah Ambrose had been known to make grown men cry.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, but no man is worth messing make up—except your daddy. Well, if you had any on. How many times have I told you to always put your face on before you go out?” her mother said, glancing at her.
“A million,” Zoe sniffed, wiping at her nose with the lace handkerchief her mother had given her. Leah had handed it to her as soon as Zoe had gotten in the car. She didn’t know if her mother was being spiteful or insightful. Most likely a combination of the two.
“No need to be sassy. I didn’t run off and marry the first fool to have me.”
“I didn’t run anywhere. I was on a business trip.” Zoe clenched her teeth.
“Martha had getting married in a heathen ceremony by an Elvis impersonator on your itinerary?”
“Elvis was not the preacher,” Zoe reminded her, but it was futile.
Leah waved a manicured hand in the air. “Sugar, I don’t care if Rick Warren married you in Sin City. It was tacky and extremely rude of you.”
Zoe scrunched her nose. “You thought getting married to Gabriel at the Aviation Club was high society?”
“Harrison Collins and Noah Sawyer belong to that club.”
As if a bank president and a developer as members made that place so much better. “It’s for remote controlled airplanes, momma.”
“I know you’re not getting above your raisin’,” Leah said, her mouth flattening. She pulled the car into her gravel driveway and stopped.
Zoe lifted her chin and looked her in the eye, trying to remember that her mother really did love her. “Thank you for the ride.”
“You’re welcome.” Her mother opened the door. “I’ll help you with your luggage.”
“It’s not that much,” Zoe began, but Leah had already made her way to the trunk. Resigned to the fact that her mother wasn’t done with her, she got out of the car and headed to the house.
Leah followed her inside, tsking at the sight of Zoe’s mismatched furniture and piles of everything strewn throughout. “You really need to straighten up this house. A clean home and a full belly is the way to a man’s heart, you know.” She set two of the suitcases by the door and placed Zoe’s carry-on on the overstuffed chair by the fireplace.
So is screwing him every day, Melanie whispered in her mind. A cross between a sob and a giggle escaped her mouth.
Kitten heels clicked across wide pine floors as her mother walked around. She ran a finger across the table and frowned.
“Will you stop?”
Her mother’s head snapped up, dark blue eyes narrowing. “That man teach you to talk to your mother like that? What kind of family does he comes from?”
“How should I know? I’ve never met them.” Yeah, that was helping. Zoe steeled herself for more of her mother’s diatribe.
“Zoe Martha Ambrose, that man has no morals, a bad reputation and couldn’t see fit to come home with you. He’s off gallivanting around and has been photographed with another woman while you’ve been hiding out in Palm Island for the past three weeks.”
“I was writing.” And going through pints of chocolate ice cream while watching Christian’s movies on the iPad he’d given her. Weeping while slingshotting birds at pigs. Later, after seeing pictures of her husband dancing with a woman named after a fruit, she’d chunked the damn thing into the ocean.
Of course she’d gotten it back out. No need to kill sea life just because the entire world she’d built for herself had been blown apart, rearranged to have Christian at the center before being sucked into a black hole.
“You should be signing your name on the dotted line and be done with that man.”
Her mother’s disappointment was more than she could take at the moment. She had no desire for a lecture. No desire for the I-told-you-so speech. Her breaking point had past. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I loved him, but I lied to him and now he-he…”
Leah crossed the room, enveloping her in a hug that lasted for hours. When the tears finally stopped, her mother brushed back her hair and gave her a sympathetic smile. “You want me to spend the night?”
“And make me some hot chocolate?” Zoe asked with a sniff. She stepped back and smoothed her shirt down over her hips.
“Whatever you need,” Leah said, moving to the door.
Zoe frowned. “Where are you going?”
Her mother turned to face her, eyes soft in the fading light. “To get my overnight bag from the car.” She waved her hand in the air. “You know what they say.”
“Be prepared?”
“No matter how old you get or the mistakes you make, you’ll always be my baby.” Leah shut the door behind her.
A ribbon of warmth wound its way inside of Zoe, thawing some of the ice in her heart and soul. She sank to the couch, pulled her knees up to her chest and waited.
***
“It really is for the best, son,” Vladimir’s pale eyes met Christian’s. His father was impeccably dressed in a navy suit, every inch the coldblooded mogul as he sat behind his desk.
“When did you ever care what was best for me?” Christian gripped the bottle of Russian Standard. He never knew when he would need another shot. The chair creaked as he flopped down in it.
His father’s expression sharpened. “If you had studied business instead of theater, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Vladimir pounded a large fist on the top of the desk.
