“But even though you were angry, you weren’t this,” she says, gesturing to me, “you weren’t heartbroken.”
My stomach drops. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t think I need to spell it out for you, but you weren’t sobbing on my couch over Wyatt the fuckwad.”
I sigh. “You may be right. But that doesn’t make it any better.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
We finish watching the movie, and I drift off to sleep wondering if I really am heartbroken.
The loud knocking on the door is what wakes me up. I almost fall off the couch because it startles me.
“Morning, sunshine,” Anna says from the kitchen.
The loud knocking sounds again and I wince. “Who in their right mind is knocking like this so early?”
She snorts, heading for the door. “It’s not that early, and I’m guessing that would be your estranged husband.” I cover my face with a pillow and flop back onto the couch. “Do you want to see him?”
“Not really,” I say, “but we got interrupted last night, and if I hear him out then maybe we’ll be done with it.”
She nods. “Get it out of the way.”
The knocking sounds again and Anna answers it. Will is standing outside, looking harried and less put together than his normal self. Like me, he’s still in the clothes that he was wearing last night, though they’re wrinkled now and there are a couple of places that look like they’re smudged with ash.
Anna waves him inside, and the minute he steps into the room his eyes are on me, looking me up and down. I see him register my face and what is likely the remnants of a night spent crying.
“Did the house survive?” I ask.
Anna whips her head around to me. “You didn’t tell me you set his house on fire!”
“She didn’t,” Will says, voice rough. “But it did survive.”
We’re staring at each other now, and I don’t want to be drawn to him. I hate him. I hate him and his stupid perfect face and perfect body and the way he played me like a fool. I look away because I think I might start crying again, and I desperately don’t want to.
Will clears his throat. “I’d like to speak to my wife alone, Anna.”
She doesn’t respond to him, and instead directs her question to me. “You okay?” I nod. “I’ll be close by if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
We both wait until she’s left, and the closing of her bedroom door behind her leaves a gaping silence.
Will takes a few steps closer toward the couch. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain.”
Anger flies up and out, warm and familiar. “Why should I do that? I’m not particularly interested in the blow-by-blow of how you singled me out to manipulate.”
“That is not what happened?”
“And why should I believe anything you say when our whole relationship is a lie?”
“Because, Sandy, I love you.”
My body locks into place, like those words shut it down. The words I’ve wanted him to say, that I’ve wanted to say to him. How can he possibly use them now? I fight against the tears that rise to my eyes. “I love you,” he says again, his voice closer.
“Yes, I fucked up. I didn’t know that my father had bound my inheritance with a timed marriage clause until I was about to sign it. It was his way of making sure the “family name” lived on. So yes, I needed to marry someone. I didn’t go to Vegas looking to get married. I was fucking pissed off and I wanted to get drunk. I wanted it to go away. And then I saw you, and I wasn’t even thinking about the contract, I just wanted you. And then you,” his voice cracks off and he takes a breath, “you were amazing. We just worked, and when you told me about what happened with Wyatt and how you felt so betrayed I knew how you felt, because my own father had just stabbed me in the back.
“And when you cried, and said that you were just looking forward to being married, and that you were worried that no one would ever want you again, I was so angry. I wanted to kill the man that had hurt you and made you feel that way. And when you suggested it, I knew I could give you what you wanted by marrying you, and I could escape the contract.”
He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back. “And then at the engagement party, I saw you and Wyatt, and I saw how brave you were, and how happy you were to have someone stand with you, and I realized that I didn’t want to be married to you just because of a stupid fucking contract. It could have been anyone, but god, Sandy, I don’t want it to be anyone else.”