Marrying My Billionaire Hookup

a seat for you, Edgar,” Mama says, gesturing at the empty chair next to me.

But he remains standing, facing the room. “Actually, there’s something I need to say to you all first.”

Shit. He’s going to announce we aren’t together anymore.

I give him a sharp look full of disappointment at his poor judgment. This is not the time or place.

“When I first came here and met you, you asked me what I brought to the table. My answer was: money and connections.”

This isn’t the opening I thought he’d go for. What’s he trying to say?

My family is watching him closely, like they can sense he’s about to reveal something very important.

“What I didn’t tell you is that I also bring a lot of ugly, messy baggage,” Edgar says. “To put it plainly, my family is broken. There are so many articles written about us. But what they don’t always mention is that one of my brothers, Tony, accidentally shot our baby sister in a hunting accident. She…didn’t survive.”

A collective gasp goes up in the room. Air clogs my throat. The magnitude of the tragedy is staggering. Hearing it from Edgar’s lips is so much worse than reading about it on my phone screen.

“He was only twelve at the time. Our mother blamed him, and he was exiled from the family soon after. He became a forbidden subject—we weren’t allowed to think of him, speak of him or have pictures of him around. Defending him would earn you a swift punishment. To her, the only thing that matters is that she lost her daughter. And our father let her do whatever she wanted because he loves her.”

Jesus. She abused her sons. Just because she didn’t smack them around doesn’t mean she didn’t leave scars with her neglect and emotional brutality. This explains a lot about Edgar’s excessive seriousness. And his desire to be a good father to his kid. He doesn’t want to be like his parents.

Shock, grief and sympathy tangle in my heart, and I hurt for the younger Edgar and his brothers.

Edgar continues, “When Tony came back to Louisiana after graduating from college, he met and fell in love with the woman who is now his wife, Ivy. But our mother didn’t want him to be happy.

“When someone purposely drove Ivy off a bridge, our mother looked the other way. She refused to report it to the police…even though she knew who did it. She also knew Ivy didn’t die, but she hid that too, purely to torment Tony.

“When it was brought to light, she blamed him again. People died because of her actions.”

I put my hand over my aching heart. This is terrible. Edgar’s unembellished, emotionless tone makes the tragedy of the story worse. It’s like the events are already so horrific that you don’t need anything other than the facts.

“Is she in jail?” Papa asks softly.

A corner of Edgar’s mouth dips. “No. Regardless of how reprehensible she is, nothing she did was illegal. I looked.”

“Well, that’s good, right? I mean, at least she’s not in jail,” Hugo says.

No, it’s not, I realize, looking at Edgar’s face. He’d rather have his mother pay for what she did.

“Our father didn’t like the scandal,” he answers in the same flat voice. “He also didn’t like being painted as a villain, even by association. He was complicit the entire time by looking the other way, no matter what she did, but this time he divorced her. He had to show something to the people in our town, especially those who knew more than they let on. The family’s position and tradition demanded we maintain a certain…moral superiority over the town.

“But public divorce or not, he still loves her. And now he wants her back. He believes it’s safe enough to try, since it’s been a while and the family reputation is going to stay intact if he couches it in terms of forgiveness and reconciliation. He doesn’t care how we feel about the situation or that it might hurt us.” Edgar’s gaze slides in my direction, but he doesn’t look at me for long, like he’s afraid I’ll reject him. “I didn’t grow up like Jo. I don’t know how to be a warm person. I’m terrible at being a member of a family as supportive and wonderful as yours, even though I want to be very badly.”

I feel tears form in my eyes. I wish he’d told me all this earlier, then maybe I would’ve understood him better. And realized there was more to his “Jo’s perfect because I’ll never love her” talk.

“Every time my father did something he shouldn’t have, he always said he did it out of his love for Mom. So to me…love is what makes people blind and foolish. And I never wanted it…or even wanted to feel it.” He looks at me helplessly. “I’m sorry, Jo.”

His apology soothes the pain the words I overheard caused. So it wasn’t about me. But at the same time, I’m sad that he’s never going to learn what it’s like to love and be loved in return. “Me too,” I say.

Pablo bristles. “So does this mean you’re not going to marry Jo?”

Mama and Papa look concerned and let down. I’m sure this isn’t what they ever thought to hear from Edgar.

And my uncle, aunt, brothers and cousins all wear identical scowls, their eyebrows pinched together, mouths pursed tight.

“I want to,” Edgar says, answering Pablo.

“But you don’t want to love anybody. I’m not marrying for anything less,” I say, needing to clarify what I require from Edgar in case he doesn’t understand it yet.