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Forever (Betrothed 7)

Page 18

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I rolled my eyes because it wasn’t possible to argue with my old man.

“So, can I ask about this woman?”

I considered the request for a long time before I gave in. “I guess.”

“Is it serious?”

My dad and I had never had this kind of conversation before, and it was almost weird. His fatherly duties faded away once I became a man, and he respected me as an adult and didn’t pry into my life…unlike my mother. But he switched back into the role almost effortlessly. “Yes.”

There was a powerful look of joy in his eyes, but it was also incredibly subtle, as if he did his best to hide how happy that made him. It was a softer expression, a great contradiction to the hardness he usually wore. “Is it the first time this has happened to you?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d known that sooner…I would have made a better impression.”

“She said you were both lovely—although I’m not sure why she thinks that.”

He smiled slightly. “Then you two are living together.”

“No. She’s just staying here until we get a few things figured out.”

“If it’s serious, why doesn’t she just stay here permanently?”

I wasn’t going to share every single detail. “We haven’t known each other long. She’s recently divorced, so there’s no rush.”

He didn’t make any protestations about her marital situation, when my mother definitely would have. “Did she leave him for you?”

“No. But we were together before she got married. Her marriage didn’t last long…”

“She chose him over you?” he asked in surprise.

“No. She told me she loved me, and I said I didn’t feel the same way.”

As if he understood exactly what I meant, he nodded. “Once she was gone, you realized what she really meant to you.”

“Sort of. We still saw each other a lot, and I slowly started to feel that way.”

“Does she want children?”

I wasn’t sure if she could have them at all. “Let’s not jump ahead. This is all new to me.”

“Fair enough.” He returned to eating his food. “Wish you the best.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I went back to my meal, and we fell into comfortable silence.

We spent our evenings together, but nothing physical had happened yet. She sat on a different couch, always drawing an invisible barrier between us. I could tell she was purposely holding back from me because the ease of our conversation hadn’t returned. A part of her still felt guilty for being with me, for having a relationship with a man so quickly after her divorce.

It was frustrating as fuck.

But I was patient…because I had no choice. Unlike Liam, I was loyal through the bad and the good, and I wasn’t going to pick up a piece of ass just because the woman I loved was unavailable.

I came home later than usual because I had a lot of stuff on my plate. I made it to the top of the stairs and loosened my tie as I maneuvered down the hallway. Suits weren’t my thing. I’d work in sweatpants if it weren’t tacky.

When I passed Annabella’s door, I heard a loud sound…followed quickly by a second.

I halted in front of the door, listening closely.

It sounded like two women laughing.

I opened the door and peeked my head inside.

Catalina and Annabella were on the couch in front of the TV, laughing their asses off even though the movie they were watching looked like a drama. There were empty bottles of wine on the table in front of them, along with a cheese board and a stash of baguettes.

“Having a good time?” I asked sarcastically.

Catalina looked up, her cheeks flushed from the booze. “Aw, it’s my big brother.”

Yep, she was super drunk. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, wait.” Catalina stumbled to her feet and headed toward me.

“Nope.” I shut the door and walked to my bedroom, not wanting to deal with my drunk-ass sister, who was even more annoying than usual. I dropped my jacket on the edge of the bed and pulled the tie from around my neck.

She didn’t respect boundaries, so she walked inside. “Damien, you’ve gotta help me.”

I rolled my eyes as my back was turned to her. “Help with what?”

She grabbed the back of my arm for balance and then started laughing for no apparent reason.

I shrugged her off and walked to a chair so I could sit and slip off my dress shoes.

“Can you hook us up with more wine?” She followed me to the chair. “Patricia says she’s out, but I don’t buy that shit.”

“Whoa…very ladylike.”

She grabbed one of my shoes and threw it at me.

I let it bounce off my arm. “I’m sure she cut you off on purpose.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve got something stashed in here—”

“No.”

She started to whine. “Come on, big brother. Please, please, pretty please…”

I walked to my liquor cabinet.

“Yes!”

I pulled out a bottle of water that was disguised as a bottle of vodka. “Here.” I came back and handed it to her.



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