The house feels more empty than ever before when I walk in, every single detail reminding me of her. When I asked her to take charge of the interior design, I’d done it as a way of extending her an olive branch. I’d wanted to show I cared for her opinion, and that while I might not have treated her all that well in the past, that would be different once we were married.
I never expected it to bite me in the ass. How the fuck am I supposed to live in a home that reminds me of her this much? My heart is beating an unsteady rhythm as I sink into the sofa, her blue robe strewn over the back of it. The mere sight of it soothes me for a split-second, only for me to be reminded of the way she smiled at Eric.
He’d been waiting for her. She hasn’t even tried to call me in days now, but she must have spoken to him, or he wouldn’t have known to expect her. I bring her robe to my face and breathe her in — it’s the closest I’ve had her in weeks, and it isn’t nearly enough.
She must be with him now. If that smile she gave him was any indication, staying to watch for even a second longer would’ve torn me apart. It’d have done irreparable damage to whatever is left of my heart. After everything we’ve been through, all the ways I thought we’d grown, all the promises we made… it’s still him she called.
Perhaps I was foolish not to seriously consider him when I had those divorce papers drawn up. I’d been worried about her mental health and the security she felt in our marriage, but I hadn’t doubted her in that way. If I had, I’m not sure I would’ve had the strength to offer her a divorce.
It’s odd how quickly my need to destroy Eric is tempered by the mere memory of her smile. If he makes her smile like that for the rest of his life, fuck. If he can do that for her, I’ll sit back and watch from the shadows as she moves on with life, with the man she’s wanted all along.
I should’ve seen it that day in The Lacara. She went against every instinct, defied every one of her fears and the very essence of her upbringing, for him. Faye was so obviously terrified, but she still chose to be there with him.
Over time, I let myself believe it was about control, about defiance, but here I am… on the sidelines, while she’s with him. Again. I should’ve known. Fuck, I should’ve known. I never deserved her in the first place.
I inhale shakily and tighten my grip on her robe as I try my hardest to keep my thoughts from wandering, but I can’t help it. My eyes fall closed, and I think of her in that cottage of hers, where she doesn’t share a single meaningful memory with me. There isn’t even a trace of me. It was her fresh start; her escape. That’s probably where she’s taken him.
I sigh when I hear the front door open, not ready to deal with the support my brothers will want to offer me. They’ll try to make me forget, and I don’t want to. Even if it hurts, I want whatever I can get of her.
“Dion.”
My head snaps up at the sound of her voice, my eyes widening. I rise from the sofa, certain I’m seeing things. “Faye?” I take in the huge bouquet of red roses she’s holding, and that blazing fire in her eyes. The edges of her lips turn up into a smile, and she raises a brow when she notices I’m holding her robe. I drop it instantly and run a hand through my hair. “You must be here for the papers.”
For a moment, my vicious streak nearly takes over, and I’m tempted to ask her if her boyfriend won’t have her while she’s still legally tied to me. Then I consider telling her she’s still my wife, and that I won’t let her go to him. But in the end, all I do is stare at her, pure helplessness rendering me silent.
“Dion, I did something I deserve to be punished for,” she says, her voice soft, hesitant.
She might as well have stabbed me in the heart and twisted the knife. I’d rather that than stand here and listen to her telling me she cheated on me, that he kissed her, that he’s waiting for her outside.
“Just sign,” I whisper. “I don’t want to hear it, Faye. Just sign the papers.”
She takes a step toward me, and it takes all of me to keep standing here instead of pulling her closer and begging for another chance. I’m so tempted to fall to my knees and promise that I’ll be better, that I’ll keep trying until I’m worthy of her.
“I spoke to Eric,” she says, taking another step closer. I look away, my entire body reacting to his name being on her lips. I wish I could wipe her mouth and kiss her until she forgets who he is. I once threatened to fuck him out of her, and damn, I wish I could.
“Do you remember what you promised me shortly after we got married?” she asks, standing so close that merely shifting my body would have her pressed against me. Faye rests her palm on my chest, and I take a shaky breath. “You promised me you’d leave a kiss mark on my skin for every word I said to him. I counted.”
Hope rushes through me, and my eyes find hers. She smiles at me, and this smile is different from the one she gave him. This is the one that’s only ever been mine — it’s filled with love, trust, and a deep kind of passion that I hope she’s only ever shown me. “What did you say to him?” I ask, almost scared to voice the question.
Her hand slides up, until it’s wrapped around the back of my neck. I close the distance between us, so her chest touches mine, and her bouquet falls to the floor. “He showed up with a big bouquet of roses and asked me for another chance. I replied saying, I’m sorry, Eric. I’m still married, and I intend for it to remain that way. I choose him. After everything, despite everything, I choose him. I always will. It was twenty-eight words, my love. I know you have a newfound fondness for roses, so I brought them for you. Perhaps you can use them when you punish me.”
I grab her hair and bend down to kiss her, relief rushing through me when she moans in delight the moment my lips meet hers. Faye tightens her grip on me, and I lift her into my arms. “I love you,” she murmurs in between kisses. “I’m sorry, Dion. I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave again, no matter what happens.”
I push her against the wall, and her head falls back, her eyes on mine. “I won’t let you, angel. Please understand that I gave you a chance to run from me, to give into your fears. I will never allow you that luxury again. You came back to me of your own volition, and I will never let you go again. This is it, Faye. Until we’re gray and old. Tell me you want that too.”
“I do. I want all of you.”
I grin as I carry her to our bedroom, my restless heart finally at ease. She came back home. To me.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Faye
Dion and I stroll along the same beach in Hawaii where we shared so many of our firsts, and I can’t help but smile at the way we’ve come full circle. He holds my hand in his, his grip tight, like he never wants to let go.
“Faye,” he murmurs, pausing on the deserted private beach. I turn toward him and raise my brow when I find him looking at me with distinct worry in his eyes. He lets go of my hand and takes a step back, and then he grins as he drops down to one knee.
My lips pop open in surprise, and he chuckles as he pulls a black ring box out of his pocket. “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks, unable to figure out what the right place or time would be to ask you one of the most important questions that’ll ever leave my lips. I thought of asking you at any of the countless places on your bucket list, or even in the home we built together despite all the odds, but in the end, right here seemed most appropriate. Here, in the place I kissed you for the very first time, when I realized I wanted to marry you — not because I had to, but because I wanted your smiles and your time, and the way your eyes blaze when I wind you up.”
He opens the ring box to reveal a stunning engagement ring that obviously is a bespoke Laurier piece. “This was my mother’s,” he says, his voice faltering for a moment. “For years, I avoided every mention of her, but just being with you takes away the pain. You turned me into a better man than I’d ever hoped to be, one she’d be proud of. I know that we’re already married, darling, but I’d still like to promise you that I’ll continue to work hard on everything that makes a marriage work — I’ll communicate when the words are lodged in my throat, compromise when it goes against my very nature, and if you’ll have me, I’ll continue to support and stand by you. I want nothing more than to be your partner in every way, for as long as you’ll have me. Please, Faye. Will you let me love you for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?”