“Why didn’t…” I begin, then stop myself.
“Why didn’t I come after you? Talk to you? I tried, you wouldn’t have any of it. I wasn’t calling to try and change your mind, I wanted you to know that I understood.”
I shut my eyes. “Why are you so good to me?”
“Because I love you,” he says, running his thumb over my lip, my cheek. “I love you more than ever.”
“But I was horrible. I ran away. I should have known you’d understand.”
“Yeah, you should have known. And it was horrible. And you left me a broken man, Ron. That wasn’t easy to get around.” He breathes in deeply. “But it was a bit easier because I knew the truth. I knew it wasn’t because you didn’t love me that you left, but because you loved me that much. I knew your reasons. I could never fault you for them. If you had told me what was happening, we would have put the marriage on hold while we figured stuff out. We would have done it together.”
“I didn’t know…”
“You should have known,” he says quickly. “But like I said, I understand. I know what your parents are like. They were my bloody in-laws for long enough, I’m adept at dealing with them. I knew that you felt guilt over Juliet still, that you wanted to do the right thing by me and that leaving was the best option for everyone. I know that’s what you believed. But it doesn’t matter anymore.” He pauses, eyes searching and searching and searching me. “Freckles, I’m taking you home.”
Oh, my heart. Blooming, growing, perfumed like a flower.
So fucking fragile.
“I can’t go,” I say and I can’t even believe those words are leaving my mouth. “I can’t go. My life is here now. I have a job. Two of them. Claire needs me. I…” The thought of Arch flashes through my head. He doesn’t even fucking count.
“Your life was never here,” he says gruffly, hand at my jaw. “Ever. Your life belongs with me.” He kisses me and if I didn’t get a shock before, I’m getting it now. These lips, his lips flush on mine, the warmth of his mouth, brings me back to life. It’s a meteor slamming deep inside me, a shake-up, a change.
I don’t ever want him to stop.
Ever.
His fingers lost in my hair, making me whimper against his mouth, his arm around my waist, holding me in place, the same feeling as if he’s about to fly off somewhere, like a superhero, bring me with him.
But I can’t. He’s right, what I have here in Chicago is false, like the façade of an old-west town. It isn’t a real life and it was never really mine. It was something I put on to protect myself from a cold, new land. Claire will understand.
It doesn’t change why I left in the first place though, it doesn’t change any of that.
“I can’t,” I tell him, breaking our kiss, our mouths wet and breath heavy as we stare at each other. “They’ll never change their minds.”
“I don’t give a bloody fuck if they don’t change their minds,” he says, voice booming. It makes my nerves stand on end. “I love you. You’re going to be my wife, I don’t care what happens to me, what the world says is right or wrong, what other people think. You are my world and that’s the only world that matters.”
“I can’t watch them destroy what you’ve worked so hard for!” I cry out.
“They won’t,” he says. “They won’t.”
“Did you not hear me? They will! They’ll never go for this, they’ll never understand.”
He raises his chin, staring down at me. “Veronica. I’m old. I know a thing or two about how to deal with people and make a bad situation better. Some things take time and planning.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What did you think I’ve been doing for the last six months,” he asks, “sitting around on my ass, surfing with Charlie, picking my nose?”
“Well, no, but—”
“I’ve been saving money, I’ve been switching things around in my portfolio, talking to banks, I’ve been working with a goal in mind. A goal that should have always been on my mind, but I got lazy and complacent with Juliet. That isn’t the case now.”
I stare at him blankly.
“As of last week, I own one-hundred-percent of Moonwater.”
Still staring at him blankly. Not of this computes. Wires in my brain are fried.
“What?”
“I contacted your father. I bought him out.”
“My father?” I repeat. “He just…”
“He’s more reasonable, as you know. And technically all of your parents’ money in the hotel was his money, from his offshore account, unrelated to your mother.”