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"Not when you can’t let me help you. I’m trying to be understanding, but it’s difficult for me to watch you in pain and not do anything about it. I... I think we need some space.”
“No, we don’t.” He flattens his lips.
“You asked for more time to tell me what happened. Surely, you can extend the same courtesy to me?”
He draws in a breath as conflicting emotions flit across his features. “You don’t want to be my assistant?”
"I... Ican’tbe your assistant. I need to find some perspective on this situation. Surely, you understand that?”
He stays silent for a few seconds, then nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I blink.
"Instead of working for me, you can set up and run the workplace nursery, as we discussed."
I hesitate.That’s something I’d love to do.
"You’d be helping the others who work in the building, who need childcare so they can work without this weighing on their mind."
He knows I'm thawing and he's pushing his advantage.Of course, he is. That’s the kind of man he Is. You show him a weakness, and he makes the most of it. I even told him that's one of the things I admire about him, so how can I get angry?
"Okay." I turn to him.
"Okay." His shoulders relax.
"And you’ll stop monitoring my movements."
His chest rises and falls. "If that’s what you want."
"I do." I swallow. "And one more thing…"
He turns to me, and there’s a mixture of fear and resignation in his eyes. "What is it?"
60
Edward
"Didn’t expect to see you at poker." Sinclair blows out a cloud of cigar smoke from the other side of the poker table. "Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?"
"Been there; done that." I train my focus on my cards. The image blurs in front of my eyes. I reach for my twentieth—or is it my thirtieth?—cup of coffee of the day in a bid to clear my vision. This is what happens when you’re running on three hours of sleep. I'm lucky I caught that. And only because I managed to snag her nightshirt from the laundry basket and buried my face in it. Y-e-a-p, I'm the pathetic sod who can’t fall asleep without sniffing his wife’s scent. That’s what I’ve been reduced to since she moved into a spare bedroom down the hall. That’s what she asked of me, and I couldn’t say no. At least, she's still under my roof. That has to count for something.
It's been a week, and I’ve missed her every second of it. She also took charge of the on-site-nursery and had it up and running in five days. When that woman sets her mind to something, nothing gets in her way. To be fair, I'd already prepared the space and purchased the necessary supplies, but she interviewed, hired, promoted, and managed the hell out of it. I managed to watch from afar, managed not to interfere, managed to even have the cameras and bugs on her phones and Kindle de-activated, managed not to have any new ones installed in her guest room or in her new car. I can’t lie to her on this again. Can’t justify looking her in the eye and saying I haven’t stuck to my word.
It almost killed me, but I did it. And if it means I follow her in my car to and from work, at a distance, to make sure she reaches her destination safely? Well, that's not a crime. I'm not engaging anyone else to do it. I'm doing what any good husband should do; I'm looking out for my wife.
Good thing no one around the table knows that.
"He doesn’t look like he’s been on his honeymoon. In fact, it doesn’t look he’s been on holiday at all." This, from Knox.
"Shut the fuck up," I grumble.
"It’s the early days of being married, you’d be better off bonding with your other half and all that." This, from Nathan, who sounds like he doesn’t give a fuck, either way.
"Who invited you here, again?" I frown.
"I did." Sinclair rolls the cigar to the other side of his mouth. "You don’t mind, do you, ol’ chap?"
I glare at him, but he merely shrugs. Of all the people, Sinclair should know Nathan is not on my list of favorite people, but he went ahead and invited him. Which is his way of telling me I need to build bridges with this man who's an equal decision maker in Davenport Industries. Or rather, equal decision-maker after my grandfather, considering he hasn’t yet handed off full control to me. And Sinclair’s right. Arthur has shown he trusts Nathan as much as me.
