Brave Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #3)(46)

“Whatever he said, I’m sorry. I never wanted our marriage to bring you pain,” he says kindly.

Liar! I want to shout. But I don’t. I let my eyes tear and my chin tremble and I just nod at him, keeping my mouth shut until I can say the word aloud. However long that might be.

With a sigh, I turn onto my side, away from Tag, until I hear him creep quietly out the door and pull it shut behind him.





TWENTY-FOUR


Tag

“Is she okay?” my mother asks when my foot hits the bottom step.

“I don’t know.”

Mom’s brow furrows into a frown. “Do you think she knows?”

“No, there’s no way she could. I think her * of a father said something to upset her.” I run my fingers through my hair, getting angrier. “I just wish I could do something about it.”

I feel protective of my wife. Men like William O’Neal don’t deserve the love of women like Weatherly. He doesn’t deserve to be able to hurt her, to be able to affect her the way he does. He shouldn’t be allowed to dictate her life, to manipulate her the way he does. And yet he does. As wrong as it feels that he gets some part of her heart, he does. He has it. And he obviously doesn’t give a damn how he treats it. Seething, I grit my teeth. I could happily wrap my hands around his throat and throttle the shit out of him for whatever he said to upset her.

But then that would be hypocritical. I’m hurting her, too. Maybe even worse than he is. She may not know it yet, but I do. I know I’m keeping things from her, things that would possibly change the way she feels about me. Even though I’m doing it for the right reasons, it still churns like acid in my gut that I have to. This is not who I am. I don’t hurt people and not give a damn about it later. Even the women I’ve been with, I’ve always treated with respect. That’s who I am. That’s who I was raised to be. That’s who I want to be. The type of man who deserves the love of a woman like Weatherly, not the kind who breaks her heart and then walks away with some of the pieces stuck to his shoe.

Small, cool hands grip my forearm, jarring me from my thoughts, and I look down into my mother’s worried eyes. “She’s in love with you, son. You take care with her. She trusts you and you’re . . . you’re . . .” Her eyes well with tears.

“Mom, I’m not going to hurt her. I will make this right.”

“You’re lying to her. You’re already hurting her. You just don’t know it.”

“She’ll understand when it’s all said and done. She’s not a cold woman. She’ll understand. And then she’ll forgive me once she realizes why I’ve done the things I’ve done.”

“That’s a big gamble. If you break her heart, you might not ever get it back.”

It’s my turn to frown. Although my insides clench at the thought that she might hate me when this is over with, however small the possibility, I still think Weatherly will understand when I tell her everything. She’ll understand why I had to keep some things to myself until just the right time.

But hearing my mom tell me that I might not ever get my wife’s heart back gives me pause. I haven’t had it nearly long enough. I’m not ready to give her up yet. Maybe ever. But the problem is, I’ve come this far, too far. How can I make it right without going back in time and being honest with her from the start?

That’s the rub. I don’t think there is a way. I think I’ve come too far to turn back now.

“But it’s already done. How the hell am I supposed to change it now?”

Immediately, I feel guilty for snapping at Mom. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s just trying to help. Hurting her was never part of my plan either. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for her. So she’ll never have to leave her home, so she’ll never have to worry about medical care. Whatever happens to me in my life, with all the crazy turns it’s taken, she’ll be okay. Even if I lose everything, she’ll be taken care of for the rest of her days.

“You could tell her. Before it’s too late.”

I bite my tongue, agitation and frustration welling up inside me. I was going to tell her that morning on the balcony, but other things got in the way, other things like her little moans and the hot, wet feel of her body gripping mine. After that, I just didn’t think about it again. Weatherly and her delectable body are very distracting.

But they’re not distracting me now. Damn it. And I get the sinking feeling that my window has closed. But maybe I should try anyway.

“Let me get a few things in order, then I will. I’ll tell her.”

“I just hope she understands. Trust and honesty are so important in a marriage. I just wish—”

Guilt and the fear of losing Weatherly forever is making me feel defensive, like I need to explain to my own mother that I’m not the monster here. I still feel like the bad guy. At least Weatherly was honest with me. I can hardly say the same.

“Ours wasn’t a regular kind of marriage, Mom. You can’t forget that she originally agreed to this out of convenience, too. She’s not the clueless, innocent here. We both did what we had to do,” I defend vehemently.

“But you knew her reasons. You didn’t give her that same courtesy.”

“I couldn’t. And you know why.”