Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage(114)

Nic hadn’t been sure of his reception, but she didn’t blame him for bringing Gideon’s lies to her attention. Nic understood how unacceptable and wrong hiding the truth was. He’d been right to force it into the light.

As for the man she had thought of as her husband, she saw him once. He came to the service, not making any effort to approach her, but she felt his eyes on her the whole time.

After the first glimpse, she couldn’t bear to look at him. All she could think about was how easy she’d been for him in every way, screwing up her courage to propose. Giving in to hormones and his deft proficiency with the female body. Feeling so proud to have a man at all, especially one who made women envy her. He’d played on all her biggest weaknesses, right up to his supposed shared pain over the miscarriages.

Here her heart stalled, torn apart by the idea he’d been faking his grief. It was too unfair, too cruel. Was even a shred of what he’d told her about his childhood true?

That thought weakened her, making her susceptible to excusing his behavior, so she cut herself off from considering it. She’d leaned on Theo’s wide chest and focused on the inappropriate dress worn by Demitri’s date. Leave it to her youngest brother to bring an escort to his mother’s funeral.

Her brothers coped in very different ways, but they stayed close, protective in their way, getting her through those first few weeks of loss so she didn’t have to dwell on the fact her marriage had been an unmitigated fraud.

But solitude arrived when they went back to work and Nic went home with his wife and baby.

Adara had to say one thing about her fake of a husband. He’d provoked a new sense of responsibility in both her younger brothers. Demitri was still a wild card, but he hadn’t missed a single appointment in his calendar since he’d been informed of her pregnancy, and while she wasn’t always comfortable with his newfangled marketing campaigns, they seemed to be working.

As for Theo, well, the middle child was always a dark horse, keeping things inside. Epitomizing the strong silent type, he didn’t socialize or like people much at all. That’s why she was so surprised when he dropped by the penthouse on his way home from the airport, took off his jacket and asked if he could make himself coffee.

“I can make it,” she offered.

“Stay off your feet.”

She made a face at his back, tired of a lifetime of being bossed by men, but also tired in general. Elevating her ankles again as she’d been instructed, she went back to studying a spreadsheet on her laptop.

“Why are you working?” he asked when he came back to pace her living room restlessly, steaming cup in his hand.

“I’m not checking up on you, if that’s what you think.”

“Go ahead. You won’t find any mistakes. I don’t make them.”

She lifted her brows at his arrogance, but he only held her gaze while he sipped his coffee.

“We were never allowed to, were we?” he added with a lightness that had an inner band of steel belting.

Her first instinct was to duck. Were they really going there?

An unavoidable voicing of the truth had emerged in her dealings with her siblings once she’d pulled Nic back into their lives. With the absence of their mother’s feelings to worry about, perhaps they were all examining the effects of silence, asking questions that might hurt but cleansed ancient wounds.

“No, only Demitri was allowed. And he made enough for all of us,” she added caustically, stating another unspoken truth.

Theo agreed to that with a pull of one corner of his mouth before he paced another straight line across her wall of windows. “Which leaves me wondering if I should let you make this one.”

Adara set aside her laptop and folded her hands over her belly. “Which one is that?”

“The same one our father made.”

A zing of alarm went through her, more like a paralyzing shock from a cattle prod, actually, leaving her limbs feeling loose and not her own. She clumsily swung her feet to the floor but didn’t have the strength to stand.

“If you’re talking about Gid—that man who pretended to be my husband, he lied, Theo. That’s why our father was the way he was. Because Mother betrayed him. Trust me when I tell you it leaves a bitterness you can’t rinse out of your mouth.” Her heart ached every day with loss and anger and hurt.

“Our father was a twisted, cruel bastard because he never forgave her. Is that what you’re going to do? Punish Gideon and take it out on his baby?”

Adara set her hand protectively on her belly. “Of course not!” She wasn’t being that cutting and heartless. Was she?

“Are you going to let him see his child, then?”