“You told him that you saw me?”
She nods.
“I can’t imagine he liked that.”
“He knows everything about us. I never tried to hide things from him. I thought you and I were over, and I wanted to be honest with him.”
I grab her hand and pull her to a stop. “Olivia, he knew how you felt about me, and he still married you.”
I can’t keep the incredulity out of my voice. What man would sign up for that? I rub my hand along the back of my sweat-soaked neck.
“Don’t take that self-righteous tone with me when you did the same thing.”
“That was different. I stayed with Leah because she was pregnant. I thought it was the right thing.”
Olivia’s mouth pops open. “Leah was…” She shakes her head. “It’s none of my business. And you’re right — it was different. Noah is a wonderful person, unlike that black-hearted bitch you married.”
We’re nearing her office building. She fumbles in her purse until she finds her keys. Instead of going to her car, she opens the door to Spinner & Kaspen and punches the code into the alarm system.
“We were on a cruise when he asked me to marry him. We were taking a walk on the deck, and he just turned to me and said, ‘If you weren’t in my life anymore, I’d be devastated. I want you to marry me.’”
I search her eyes trying to figure out why she’s telling me this.
“He said he knew what I felt for you was real, but he was willing to love me through it.”
I swallow. Damn. He’s a better man than me.
“I forgot you for a year. Noah was good at making me forget.”
I interrupt her because I don’t want to hear this. “Olivia-”
“Shut up.” The door swings shut behind us and we’re standing in the dark waiting room. All I can see are the outlines of her face. “I am in love with him, Caleb. I am.”
I grind my teeth together.
“But when I won the case, and I went into panic mode, it wasn’t him I wanted to talk to.” She sounds almost ashamed to say it. I remember how she showed up at my condo. “I just wanted you … and when Dobson escaped from the institution — I wanted you. When I had a miscarriage…” She places a hand over her mouth and sobs into it.
“Duchess…”
“Shut up and let me finish.” She uses her fingertips to wipe underneath her eyes. “When I had a miscarriage, I wanted your arms around me,” she says again. “Caleb, it hurts him. I don’t know whether to scream I told you so at him, or to drown myself in the ocean for bringing destruction into everything I do.”
She turns and stalks to her office. I follow her blindly. She flings the door open and flicks on the desk lamp instead of the halogen bulbs that hang from the ceiling. Walking over to her filing cabinet, she opens it and pulls out a stack of papers. She hands them to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
My eyes water, my throat burns. “I was going to — that night.”
Her chin rises and her lips tilt downward. “She was-”
“An old friend — she was in charge of building the house.”
“And when I saw you-”
“We were going over the plans. I told her I was going to propose that night. She asked to see the ring.”
She sucks in her cheeks and turns her face away until she’s looking at the wall to her left.
“You were going to propose to me?”
The tears are already cutting across her cheeks, dripping off her chin, and I haven’t even gotten to the worst part.
“Yes.”
She looks at the floor and nods. “So what did I see — when I walked in?”
“We were just talking. She told me she had feelings for me. I was trying to reassure her it wasn’t mutual.”
She punches her fists on her hips and cuts a circle around the room. “So, why didn’t you tell me that?”
“You started throwing things at me pretty fast, Duchess. I could barely open my mouth before you’d called me your father, told me you loved me for the first time and stormed out. I went after you — to your apartment first. I waited for a few hours and when you didn’t come back, I figured you must have gone to the hotel. By the time I got there…”
“So, it’s all my fault?”
I grab for her. “No,” I say. “It was my fault. I didn’t fight hard enough. I should have grabbed you, made you listen.”
“You didn’t even kiss her?”
“No, but I was attracted to her. I had thought about it.”
“Oh God, give me a minute…” She begins pacing between her desk and the window. I slide down the wall until I am sitting, one knee propped up.