Married in Name Only

The doors slid open and she fully expected him to call out her name, to come up behind her and try to convince her to stay. But the doors slid open and Paisley stepped in.

The second she turned, her eyes locked with his. Damn it. She hadn’t wanted him to be the last thing she saw as she left.

But maybe this was what she needed to finalize this chapter on her life. The anguish on his face almost had her pausing, but no. He was good at manipulating people, manipulating her. If he had pain or angst, that was all on him.

She had her own life to piece back together. As much as she still loved him, she just didn’t have the energy to play this marriage game any longer.

Sixteen

Silence was deafening.

Lucas had heard the term before, but never fully comprehended those words until Paisley walked out of his penthouse.

That had been five hours ago.

Lucas stared out into the night from his living room. He still held on to the tumbler of bourbon he’d poured an hour ago. He had no clue what to do, how to be. He wasn’t himself without Paisley and he’d severed any chance of having her in his life.

But he had no heart to give her. One time he’d thought he had, but he wouldn’t have treated her this way if he’d truly loved her. Using her had been a mistake, but for years he’d hated Sterling and the second she stepped into his office, Lucas had seen a clever way in.

What he hadn’t seen was the woman he’d loved once, the woman who’d had the ability to hurt him. Instead, he’d seen anger and resentment.

He was a damn fool.

Lucas stared down at the glass in his hand and had every desire to throw it and hear the shatter, but that would solve nothing. Who the hell was he angry at? He was the only one who’d made a mess of this entire ordeal.

But he’d found the answers for Paisley. That was most important. After all she’d been through, she deserved to know the truth.

He hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her that her biological father was sick, but from here on out, that part of her life was out of his hands. He’d texted her the information she’d wanted and had gotten no reply—not that he expected one.

Lucas turned from the view that had once been lit up with lights from the city, but now, in the middle of the night, was mostly dark. There was probably some correlation between that and his life, but right now he couldn’t figure it out.

He took the glass to the bar and headed toward the bedroom. The second he stepped through the doorway, he realized his mistake. He couldn’t sleep in here. Paisley was everywhere. Her satin robe draped across the bottom of the bed, her heels placed near the closet where she’d stepped out of them yesterday, the perfume...damn. That floral scent was everywhere.

Lucas stared at the bed they’d been sleeping in and knew he wouldn’t be back in this room for a long, long time.

He marched across to the other side of the penthouse, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. One of the guest rooms would have to do. Maybe he wouldn’t see her there, maybe he’d sleep, maybe he’d actually be able to move on without her.

But he knew the truth. Paisley had infiltrated his life on two separate occasions and both times when she’d walked out, he’d been left feeling completely gutted with no hope of what tomorrow would bring.

* * *

Paisley stared across the street at the simple bungalow owned by Jeb Smith. She’d barely slept last night because she’d been so nervous about today and confronting the man who supposedly was her father.

Though if she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t sleep because she’d been back in her town house, alone in her bed and trying to get the ache in her heart to subside.

But she couldn’t think about Lucas right now. Not that he was ever fully out of her thoughts, but she had to push him to the back. This day was too important. The man inside that house could truly be her father.

Inside her heart, she knew he was. Lucas wouldn’t have told her if he wasn’t 100 percent certain. Yes, he’d lied to her about Sterling to try to seek his own revenge, but Paisley couldn’t question this.

She gripped her door handle and stepped from her car. Pulling in a deep breath, she smoothed down her maxidress and glanced both ways before setting off across the street. Maybe she should’ve worn jeans. Was a dress too formal? What did one wear to meet a parent for the first time?