Three Hard Lessons (Blindfold Club 2)

There was a check attached to the letter. I scanned the number of zeros at the end of it, and reminded myself of the conversion to y

en–

Holy shit. It wasn’t in yen. There was a US dollar symbol on this check. $100,000. The memo line of it read “Commitment Bonus.”

I had to read the letter three times before it sank in. I pulled out my phone to text him, or call him, but instead I stared at it in my frozen hand. What the fuck was going on? Dread poured into my stomach, topped off with suspicion and anger. I set the phone down and my vacant stare shifted to the floor. I’d need to see his face when I confronted him about this, and he should be home soon. I’d just have to stew in these mixed emotions until then.

The sun set. The longer I waited, the angrier I got. I couldn’t think of any reasonable explanation for why he’d kept me in the dark about this. My hands balled into fists. I needed to have an escape route planned if this discussion went the way I thought it might, but hoped it didn’t. I packed my suitcase like a mindless robot. So much of what I’d bought while here wouldn’t fit. Stuff he’d bought me. Clothes, shoes, silk kimonos . . . Those fake wedding rings would fit, but the fuck if I was taking them.

I rolled my suitcase out into the living space, sat on the couch, and watched the door. My knee bounced with impatience. My skin itched and was annoying. I needed him to get home. Now.

A lifetime later the door swung open and he strolled in, dropping a new stack of mail on the counter. He went rigid when he saw my packed suitcase, me perched beside it on the couch, my eyes burning.

“What’s wrong? The visa–?”

“Tell me about the hundred thousand dollar check there.” I pointed to the table where I’d set the check face up, just in case he needed a fucking reminder.

Dominic’s gaze went hazy and shifted away from mine. It was clear he was struggling to put together in his head whatever he wanted to say. Probably assembling a lie.

“Say something,” I demanded.

The blue-eyed gaze swept back to me and he looked defeated. “I hated it here. I couldn’t do another year of it. After the first few months, I hoped it would get easier. It didn’t, it got worse. So I put in a request to break my contract and go home, which was going to fuck everything up with my job. I mean, doing that? It was just a step away from quitting.”

I stared at him. I didn’t care about his job right now.

“My request got approved December third, but I had to stay at least another month until the new hire was trained.”

My hands balled into fists on my thighs. “That’s weird.” My voice was icy. “I don’t remember you mentioning any of this.”

This time I didn’t find embarrassed Dominic quite so adorable. “I never thought it’d get approved, and you’d been here a week.”

“So you got it approved. What the hell happened?”

He gave me a pained look. “You gave me more time, and I started to think I could tough it out. I was on the fence, but Chase was clear what they wanted. They offered me the commitment bonus if I agreed to fulfill my original contract.”

“I don’t understand.” My blood boiled in my veins. “How could . . .?”

He raked a hand through his hair, visibly upset. “I didn’t know what the fuck to do, all right? If I canceled my contract, I’d be going back to a job where I’d never get anywhere, and the year of hell I put up with would have been for nothing.” He began to pace the tiny living room and he looked like he was coming unhinged. “It’s so much better with you here, and you kept agreeing to stay—”

I launched to my feet. “I didn’t know there was this whole other option. You never said a goddamn word about it!”

He stopped and turned, and his expression was devastating. “I know. I kept putting it off because I didn’t know what to do, and then too much time had gone by and I had to make the decision.”

In the back of my mind a voice reminded me that I was the same, how I avoided until the last possible moment, but I was too angry to listen. “We could have gone home.” The words burned in my throat. “When? When did you decide?”

His face didn’t change and his expression was like a knife in my heart. “After New Year’s.”

Then, the knife twisted and the pain knocked the air clean from my lungs. He’d just lied to me. I couldn’t see it in his face. His pupils didn’t dilate, his eyes didn’t drift up while he accessed the part of his brain that created lies. His breathing didn’t change its cadence.

The only way I knew he was lying was from the date in the letter attached to the check. Three weeks ago he’d signed the re-commitment paperwork. He must have forgotten that was in there, but then again, he’d left the envelope out, forgotten, too.

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped. “Fuck, I wish I’d never found it.”

“I’m sorry. Please, I knew it was a mistake to keep it from you, but I didn’t know how to fix it . . .” He approached me cautiously until he was only a foot away. “The idea of losing you? It scares the shit out of me. I’ll do whatever I can to keep that from happening.”

My heart thudded to a stop and died. My skin turned to stone. He’d lied to me, and I couldn’t tell. He’d been lying to me for at least a month and I’d been oblivious. Which meant – Oh, god.

“You’ll do anything. You’ll say anything to get me to stay with you, including . . .” Suddenly I was right back in Ian’s apartment, the blue velvet box in my hand. I wrapped a shaky hand around my suitcase, but Dominic’s arms stopped me.