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“I never watched it with you?”

“What?” she asks, blinking.

“I didn’t watch the movie with you?”

“Well, usually by the time I crash and watch it you’re gone…”

“I see,” I mumble. “So, what’s the name of the movie?”

“Die Hard!” she says excitedly.

“Die Hard?”

“I know you probably don’t remember it, but it’s amazing and Bruce Willis is the greatest male actor ever. Seriously! He can’t make a bad movie.”

“He’s an asshole. He’s rude to everyone,” I growl and then, when I realize what I’ve said, my body goes completely still.

“Aden? Do you remember Bruce Willis movies?” Hope asks, confused, and sure enough that frown is on her forehead again. Standing up and acting on impulse, I reach over and rub the pad of my thumb across the small indention.

“I’ve probably read it somewhere or something. It’s funny the things I can remember and the things I can’t,” I shrug—for some reason however, that doesn’t feel completely honest. Something about just the name Bruce Willis makes me feel like maybe I know him. Which is crazy. I’m sure nowhere in the history of the world does someone like me rub elbows with the Hollywood elite.

“Oh… We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to,” she says softly.

“I can think of nothing I’d like more than to spend time with you, Hope,” I tell her, and that at least is completely honest.

“You’re being very sweet,” she whispers. “I’m really not used to sweet Aden. I don’t think I’m prepared.”

“I’ll go slow,” I wink, and I sit down beside her on the couch.

She tenses up a little when I sit down and I feel like a damn kid. I’m supposed to be married to this girl, but it’s almost as if we are strangers. That’s something I want to change. It’s something I need to change, because there has to be something between us besides this. If there wasn’t I wouldn’t remember her like I do… Would I?

She messes around with the DVD player and the television. I find myself staring at her ass as she’s bent over in front of me. My dick jerks against the zipper in my pants. The old Aden might have needed help to get his motor running, but apparently this one doesn’t.

Something to be thankful for.

To keep from getting a raging cock-stand, I pull my vision away from Hope’s ass and look around the room. The room isn’t very large, but it’s homey. It has a great feel to it and she has the walls painted a muted beige and has offset that by using warm hues of blue and teal. It’s… calming. It reminds me of the ocean. I can’t be sure I’ve ever been there, but still—

“Are you ready?” she asks, smiling, and strangely she goes to the chair I just vacated earlier.

“Come sit down beside me. You can’t see the television from the corner like that.”

“Sure I can. I do it all the time,” she argues.

“Hope. It’s my birthday. Come sit down beside me.”

“Okay,” she whispers her voice threaded thickly with nerves.

“Why aren’t there any pictures of me?”

“What?” she asks, and in a move I’m coming to realize is nerves, she blinks twice—yet again.

“All through this room and even Jack’s room you have pictures of him or you, or both of you and some of your family, but… there are no pictures of me anywhere.”

“I…Aden, you hate the camera.”

“Still… I mean I’m part of your life. I’m Jack’s father…”

“I told you that you aren’t Jack’s—”

“Let’s don’t start that shit again. And, quit trying to divert me. I’m being serious here. Shouldn’t there be at least one picture of me somewhere?”

“I…”

“Hope, is there something you’re not telling me?” I ask.

She looks at me and I wait, almost holding my breath.

thirty-one

hope

It’s the moment of truth. This is the moment I need to tell Aden exactly what happened and that we’re not married. I need to come clean. My head is starting to hurt with all the lies and he’s thinking of things I never thought of. Of course he’s going to want to see pictures of himself. He’s been really patient. He’s barely asked anything, which I’m pretty sure is the exact opposite of what I would do in his shoes. So it’s time.

“Hope, it’s okay. Just tell me. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, and his thumb sweeps across my forehead. His breath fans against the side of my face and I hear his words and it’s time I admit I have a bigger problem than even I realized.

I might have started this lie out of desperation and fear. I might have continued it for the same reason. Actually, I know I did. I was terrified. I hated Aden. I might have slept with him. It was fantastic and I got several mind-blowing orgasms out of the deal, but that did not change the facts. Aden Smith was a major asshole. He was a dick and he could be a mean dick. That meant he would sue me and he wouldn’t rest until he took everything from me.

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