She, the Kingdom (She #1)(65)



“But you enjoy it.”

“The hospital is just beginning to head in the right direction. I do enjoy that. But, I enjoy spending time with you more. We’ll make it work.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” He leaned over to kiss my forehead, and then stood. “I should go. Enjoy your children. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I thought you’d probably stay up late with them.”

Conflicting emotions swirled inside of me. I wasn’t used to being the whiny, needy girlfriend, but part of me worried that if he stayed away too long, it would all disappear. I also wanted to do exactly what Max had predicted: stay up late, watch movies and eat popcorn, listening to the kids re-hash camp and their entire summer as if it was the first time I’d heard it, hanging on to their every word.

“It’s strange loving someone other than them.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “It’s possible to love more than one person if it’s in different ways. Call me later, if you have time. I’ll try to stay busy so I don’t call you. I tend to obsess in the beginning. You’ve been warned.”

“Noted,” I said with a grin. “You should call John. I think Amelia said he’s golfing today.”

“I’ll do that.” He winked at me, and then turned to leave.

I pulled my tangled hair from its twisted bun and let it fall. I rubbed my scalp with my fingers, massaging away the soreness before tossing the covers and swinging my feet off the bed. I thought about John and Max golfing together, and that led me to imagine what it might be in the future for us four to go to a gala or anywhere else in public. Max was used to having the most beautiful woman in the room on his arm. The drastic difference made my stomach feel sick. I shook my head, angry at myself for allowing those awful insecurities to infiltrate. I wasn’t an ogre, but Sophie’s confidence that Max would never be attracted to me—a thought Max himself had once—was hard to let go.

I showered and brushed my teeth, spread lotion all over my skin, combed my hair, and dressed, feeling new carpet and tile beneath my bare feet. The new bathroom in the mirror wasn’t fogged when I emerged from the shower, a feature the designer had no doubt decided on.

The sinks all had new fixtures, the walls had a fresh coat of taupe paint. The stain in the corner of my bedroom ceiling was gone. All the ceilings had been painted white, the new light fixtures creating beautiful shadows and patterns across the pristine paint. I padded down the hallway, my feet sinking into the softest, plushest carpet I’d ever felt. The kids’ rooms had new beds, dressers, and nightstands, along with new bedding. Josh had a new television with an Xbox console, his walls painted a soft lime green, his covers were navy blue, and his sheets were white. A red-orange throw pillow matched a wooden letter J hanging from his wall. Two wooden pallets made up his headboard, and his walls were covered in black and white photos of our family. Hannah’s twin bed had been replaced by a white wooden daybed. Her walls were now a mint blue, a soft white tree with long branches extending across one wall, from floor to ceiling. Her bedding was mint blue, white, and rose pink floral. A new, white bookshelf sat not far from her matching dresser, filled with all of her favorite books and even more new ones. The light on the ceiling looked like a white candelabra. They were going to go crazy, making it even harder to wait for their arrival.

In the living room, I noticed my old sofa and recliner had been replaced with a small but plush sectional. The beige fabric wasn’t at all kid-friendly, but the microfiber would help. A gray throw hung over the overstuffed arm of the sectional. The decorator had been busy, filling the surfaces with books I’d never read, stacked at different levels, on tables and shelves on the walls. Shabby chic bird cages with candles inside, a vintage clock, and small figurines were placed perfectly, all in muted, natural tones. It was like I’d moved into a magazine, but I still felt at home. I assumed Max had given the designer some direction, and I stood in awe, wondering how much consideration he must have put into planning it all in such a short time.

An envelope was on a white wooden side table, anchored by a brand-new metallic lamp that had both gold and silver tones. The letter was typed by the designer, with instructions on care for the sofa and rugs.

I walked into the kitchen to turn on the Keurig. It was already on, with a small sticky note attached with only a scribbled heart and the letter M written in Sharpie marker. I peeled away the paper and held it to my lips. He was also romantic.

The brown and green granite had metallic flecks that I rubbed with my thumb while the coffee poured through the K-Cup into my mug. The house smelled like fresh paint and new carpet, and now, coffee. I smiled and hugged myself, in complete disbelief.

I raised my mug to my mouth, blowing on it once before taking a small sip. I fantasized about drinking coffee in the mornings with Max while the kids shoveled pancakes in their mouths. It seemed so far away and unattainable, but then again, I was standing in a newly-remodeled house, debt-free, with a brand new, dependable car in the drive, and I was loved by the wealthiest man in Kills Cross—maybe by one of the wealthiest men in the country. I hugged myself, shaking my head at the utter insanity of it all. If someone had told me six months before that what was happening would be my life, I’d have laughed them out of my stained, broken-down home.

My cell phone pinged, and I checked the display. A message from Max.

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