She’s my wife.
I’ve never been so proud. I have yet to tell my father though, and Rose hasn’t told a soul.
Legally we’re married, but as far as everyone else knows, we’re engaged.
She wants it to stay that way.
I open the door for her and she looks at me with exasperation. It's a heavy door and just climbing those stairs took a lot out of me, but I’m not going to just stay in bed everyday until I die. I want to be me. I want to live my life, and that includes opening doors for my wife.
It hurts me that she doesn’t want to tell people. At first I thought she was ashamed. But she’s scared of what they’ll think.
She doesn’t want the will changed either, but she has no fucking choice in that matter. That’s already been done.
The warmth of the building cocoons us as we walk in. The front hall is open and spacious.
The deep red oriental runner placed down along the length of the hall muffles the sound of Rose’s steps as we move from the stone floors to the rug.
She slips her coat easily off her shoulders and I move to take it. She looks up at me with worried eyes.
“It’s only a coat, Rose; I think I can manage.” There’s a hint of admonishment in my tone and she purses her lips. She doesn’t argue though, she doesn’t like to as much now, knowing that I’m not well.
An asymmetric grin pulls to my lips at the thought; that is one benefit of being ill, I suppose.
“Logan,” I hear my father’s rough voice call out to me from the sunroom to our left, before we make it to the welcome desk. I lead Rose, splaying my hand on her back.
The sunroom has several tables and comfortable chairs. The stone fireplace is lit, and the heat feels welcoming.
As we get closer, I notice how my father’s eyes are solely on Rose. She’s walking a bit slower with her hands clasped in front of her.
Anger stirs in my chest.
I didn’t bring her here for him to make her uncomfortable.
I wanted them to meet at least once, just in case, but I won’t let him make her feel unwelcome. She’s my bride, my wife, the love of my life. And he had better realize that and respect it, or we’re going to have problems.
“Mr. Parker,” Rose says in a professional tone I recognize from all of our meetings and presentations. She has an amazing ability to slip into a mask of ease when she’s uncomfortable. I fucking hate it.
“Father, meet my wife, Charlotte Rose.” I introduce them while staring hard into my father’s pale blue eyes. They widen slightly, and his mouth falls open with surprise.
“Wife?” he asks with raised brows. Before I can answer he replies with disbelief, “I never thought I’d live to see the day.” He looks at her stomach before reaching Rose’s eyes.
My face heats with embarrassment. I don’t want him to think I’ve knocked her up, although the thought makes my dick stir in my slacks.
“Fiancé he means,” Rose is quick to reply smoothly, and my father’s eyes dart to her ring finger before he nods his head easily, sitting back in his seat.
He’s confirming her fears and I fucking hate it, although I suppose I can see his position.
“I see my son has been keeping secrets,” he says as he eyes me and then holds out a hand for Rose. “At least he introduced us before you two tied the knot.”
Their handshake is business at best, but Rose seems comforted by the warmer reception.
I take a seat, my body stiff as the anxiety of the two of them getting along grows.
“How did you two meet?” he asks Rose.
She smiles warmly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks hesitantly at me and then leans forward and replies, “At a conference a few months ago.”
My father nods, and then a smile suddenly appears at his lips. He raises his hand, pointing at her and nodding his head as he says, “Don’t tell me, you worked for…” he snaps his fingers and my heartbeat picks up. “Armcorp?” he asks.
Rose’s beautiful smile grows across her face as she asks, “He told you?” Her brow furrows, although she looks pleased.
“Not exactly, but I had a feeling.”
I huff a humorless laugh. My father has always struck me as intelligent, but I didn’t think I was so obvious.
I sit back in my chair as the two of them engage in easy conversation.
My leg pains me again, reminding me that I have radiation again tomorrow. One more week, and then we'll see where I stand.
I ignore the pain and smile along with Rose’s story of how I ruined her presentation.
She laughs and pauses to remember the rest of our story. I remember it, though I don't know if I remember it as clearly as Rose.
My father interrupts before she’s able to continue, saying, “I’m proud of you son,” and his voice cracks. He clears his throat and adds, looking back at Rose, “I’m happy for the two of you. I’m happy he found someone to love.”