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She wanted love. But he could never give her that. Because he simply didn’t know how to love. Even the thought of letting his guard down to that extent made the anxiety build like a tsunami—and took him back to all those times in his father’s study when he had yearned for one single sign of affection or approval, only to have his childish hopes destroyed.
Sure, he could fake it, tell her what she wanted to hear. But he knew she was far too emotionally intelligent not to see through it.
‘I don’t want you working for Roman Garner,’ he managed, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. If she knew how much he needed her to be here every time he came home in the evening, and when he left in the morning, she would use it against him.
She stared at him, her eyes sheened with an emotion that reached into his chest and gave a hard yank.
Disappointment.
The feeling of inadequacy, of confusion, churned in his gut—reminding him far too forcefully of that lost, needy kid.
‘You’re my wife and he’s a rival,’ he added stiffly, to try and distance himself from that boy and turn himself back into the man he had become... A man who never let the fear and insecurity which had dogged him throughout his childhood show.
‘We can revisit the question of another baby when you’re more amenable.’ He let his gaze sweep over her figure to settle on her belly in the jeans she wore, the fierce desire to see their child grow there all but overwhelming.
She blinked slowly, the sadness in her eyes only making the storm in his gut pitch and roll.
Ignore it. You can’t give her what she wants. You know it. And eventually she will realise it too, and will hopefully be prepared to live within those parameters.
‘This isn’t about the job, Brandon, or another baby. This is about what you’re prepared to give to this marriage. To give to me.’
It was hardly the concession he’d been looking for.
‘I want you here with me, in my life, as my wife and the mother of my children. Why isn’t that enough?’
If she wasn’t ready to have another child...yet...he’d have to compromise and find her a job at Cade Inc, he thought frantically.
‘And yet you still can’t spend the night in my bed,’ she said, her eyes sheened with unshed tears.
‘I told you, I’m not a good sleeper, I’d wake you up.’ The anxiety he remembered so well from his childhood—coupled with the cruel realisation he could never do enough, neverbeenough, to make anyone truly care for him—gripped his throat. He couldn’t give her that, couldn’t let her see him at his most vulnerable.
‘And I’ve told you I don’t care,’ she replied. ‘You have to let your barriers down, to let me in. To let me know you. Why does that terrify you so much?’
‘I’m not good with that much intimacy...’ he said, but even he could hear the cowardice in his words, the note of panic and desperation, and realised how pathetic he sounded.
Could she hear it too? She must be able to. But, instead of calling him out on it, she brushed away the single tear that flowed down her cheek. ‘Then we don’t have a real marriage, Brandon. And a real marriage is what I want.’
And then she turned and left him standing alone in the study. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, the walls closing in around him, trying to shore up all the defences he’d worked so hard to build over so many years.
At last, anger flowed over the panic, inadequacy and fear. She would come around. This was what they’d agreed to—she couldn’t change the terms of their agreement after only one month. And what about Ruby? What about the daughter she’d denied him? She owed him this marriage.
But, as he strode out of the study and out of the house, he could already feel his mind working, desperately trying to come up with a plan to fill up the huge, empty hole opening up all over again in his gut. And threatening to swallow him whole.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘WHYDIDN’TDADDYcome home tonight?’ Ruby yawned, the sleepy question making Lacey’s heart hurt.
‘I told you, baby, he had to work late, but he’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Daryl says Daddy has bought tickets to take you to the zoo, just the two of you.’
The text from Daryl had arrived twenty minutes ago, saying he had purchased the tickets at Brandon’s request and informing her of her husband’s plans.
As soon as Lacey had read the text, though, it had reminded her of the curt demands she had received from Daryl when Brandon had first found out about his daughter.
And she had known the decision to contact her through his assistant, not to return home tonight, was deliberate. Brandon was avoiding her and the messy emotional demands she’d made that morning.
She’d been drained and on edge all day. The last of the hope she had relied on for four weeks dying as she went through every aspect of their conversation that morning over and over again. And she knew she hadn’t read any of it wrong.
She’d asked him to love her, at least to try to love her, and he’d refused.
