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His eyes flair with a small glimpse of hope, but I can’t allow myself to focus on it because I’ll fall down a deeper rabbit hole if I do.
“Did you buy this piano?”
He nods. “It’s all yours. If you want a different one, I’ll change them out. Just let me know.”
I fucking love it, but I’m not the type of girl who will take a fancy piano and forget everything he’s ever done. “You can’t buy me, Marnix.”
“I know, peasant. I’m not trying to. I…I, um, destroyed the other one.” My heart drops, but I let him keep going. “The night I left you at your parent's, I was so angry. So angry that I shattered the piano I knew you loved to get back at you. So, I replaced it because I was a fucking moron. I know what playing means to you. It’s your outlet, your art. I couldn’t let myself be the one to take that away from you after I already took away so much.”
He destroyed it to hurt me, but he replaced it to heal me. If that doesn’t explain the complexity of Marnix, I don’t know what does.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Before he has a chance to say anything else, I lean forward, placing a kiss on his forehead and then I get up and walk away from him. I leave my heart on the piano keys with pieces of my soul dripping onto Marnix’s lap. The moment of peace and clarity I had playing the piano has been overtaken by the pain of trying to navigate my relationship with Marnix.
Nevertheless, I was being truthful. I believe we’ll get back to a good place. I just don’t know when. Hopefully, someday soon, I’ll be ready to forgive him.
Night after night, I’m restless. The anxiety creeps up on me, coursing through my body, ready to attack at a moment's notice. I can’t risk anything happening to her again, so I must constantly be alert.
Reilly and Rush protect her from the inside, and I stand guard outside her room. Between the three of us, I’m confident that we can make sure she’s safe, but I’m terrified that something else is going to happen.
At this point, I don’t have a life outside of worrying about Tara. I don’t want to have a life outside the worry if it means she’ll always be safe. Not until we catch Zayan and definitely not until Tara is mine again.
Sometimes I forget I still have a job. If my last name wasn’t on the building, there’s no way I’d still have it. Kate, thankfully, has been covering my cases while I handle things here. Sometimes I go to the office and do some work to try and get my mind off things, but it always comes back toher. It’s meant to keep my thoughts occupied, but I don’t give a shit about my job right now. My work will always be there, and even though Randall is trying to get me ousted, he has no standing to do so. If I want to “work” from home, I can. If I want to take a three-week vacation, I can. He can’t say shit about it.
My dad would be disappointed at how little I care about his precious firm. He’d say I was no son of his. That my work should be my sole focus, and I’m a damn disgrace for letting a woman distract me from it all.
Like usual, my mind turns back to my wife who I’m trying to get back. She might hate me right now, but deep down, I think she still cares for me. She’s confused about us, and I haven’t been helping that situation every time we talk.
My beautiful, resilient peasant. She survived the worst of the worst. Some nights she still screams like she’s reliving what she’s been through. I have to restrain myself from busting into the room and wrapping my arms around her. But I don’t because she’s got Reilly and Rush and doesn’t need me getting in the way.
Fuck, I wish that was me comforting her. I try to tamp down the jealousy of not being able to help her get through it, but I did this to myself.
Tara has taken over my soul without even trying. No matter what happens between us, there will never be anyone else in my life like her. She’s the sunshine that lights up the darkest parts of me. She’s a radiant soul that sets mine on fire, breathing life back into me.
She is the best thing to ever happen to me, even though I’m almost the worst that’s ever happened to her.
My back is fucking killing me right now from leaning against this wall for hours. Earlier I had to endure the muffled sounds of Tara’s sweet moans, the ones that make my dick rock hard while Reilly and Rush worshipped her.
I couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing to her in there. Were they exploring her body with their hands, mouths, or dicks? Maybe all of them. The possibilities were endless. I could watch the cameras and find out, but I don’t want to invade their privacy. I’m trying to give up control instead of constantly needing to know and run everything.
Both times we’ve kissed since she’s been home, I’ve wanted so much more of her, but both times she stopped it from going any further.
Her taste is so addicting, I want more. I crave more. But I can’t have her.
It was agonizing, but I sat there listening to my two closest friends pleasure my wife. Every time it happens, I sit here and listen awkwardly. I can’t help but think about her lips on mine or that night I walked in on her pleasuring herself and how fucking gorgeous she looked when she fell apart. No matter how much I wanted to take the pressure off, I didn’t take my cock in my hand and jerk one out to her.
I don’t deserve that.
I’ll get my pleasure from her when she decides it’s the right time.
When she’s ready to let me back in and accept me into her life.
Until then, I’ll let myself be uncomfortable.
I’ve been drowning alone in my thoughts all night, and I can’t do it anymore. Sluggishly, I push my aching body up and make my way down to my office. Another sleepless night means more time spent slowly sifting through my parents’ shit. I don’t know why I’m obsessed with this, but I can feel it deep within my bones—something happened that drastically changed their relationship. My father was up to something, and I intend to find out what it was.
Rush has been helping me, but he’s been a little distracted by a certainpeasantthese days. Can’t say I blame him, though. I’d drop all of this for an ounce of time with her. The more I go through these documents, the more they seem to bleed together. Nothing seems abnormal, but maybe I’m overlooking it because I’ve stared at them so much. I spend some more time sifting through his business account bank statementsagain, but I’m not seeing anything.
He was an intelligent man with experts at his disposal. He wasn’t dumb enough to leave shady shit in plain sight. I have to look for the slightest discrepancy.
