Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(45)



“I’m fucking married. I don’t touch other men.”

“Oh really?” I scoff, but even I can tell it’s weak. The righteous indignation in his voice is very clear.

He sucks in a breath. “Joe, I swear to you on everything that I hold dear that I was never unfaithful to you.”

“And what do you hold dear?” I scoff. “Your company? Your car?”

“You.”

The simple words strike me dumb. “Pardon?”

His eyes are dark and fierce. “You are what I hold dear. Just you. I was an utter twat when we got married.”

I let these words sink in. “And you really didn’t cheat?”

“No.” His word is forceful. “Never. I’m so sorry you even thought that.” He frowns. “Is that why you wouldn’t see me? Why you sent divorce papers? I thought you left me because I went away on business.”

“What? Why the fuck would I do that?”

He shrugs. “I’d have deserved it. I never put you first.” He meets my gaze. “What does this mean?” he says and he sounds almost lost.

I want to reach down and hug him, to kiss him, to feel him against me again, that sturdy strength at my disposal. The fact that he didn’t cheat is making my head reel and playing havoc with my former steely resolution.

All the things I thought about him aren’t true. He never cheated. I keep repeating the words in my head, feeling the jubilation there. But I make myself calm down. All of our other problems haven’t disappeared.

“I’m glad you didn’t cheat,” I finally say. “I’m really glad about that, Lachlan.” He makes a move to hug me, but I hold up my hand. “But the fact remains that I still believed it.”

“But now you know it’s not true,” he says hoarsely. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

He slumps in evident relief.

“But I wouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion if I’d known you.”

He watches me, his body completely still.

“I don’t know you any more now than I did when we met.” I shake my head. “You say you take marriage seriously, but you were drunk when you proposed, and I was drunk when I accepted. It was all a colossal mistake.”

His face twists. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s the truth. We’re complete and utter opposites who had fantastic sex with each other and that’s it.”

“It bloody isn’t.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, then. What’s my favourite colour?”

“And does that actually matter?” he says cautiously.

I’d almost want to laugh if I didn’t feel like crying. I don’t want to do this. As stupid as it seems, I’d felt like we were back together for a moment. But now we’re back to square one. Falling into his arms without talking everything through wouldn’t be fair to him or me.

“Our favourite colours don’t have world-shattering importance, but maybe it’s something we should know.”

“So, what’s mine?”

I spread my hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know what your favourite food is. All I know is you sleep on the left, you prefer it when I ride your cock, and you go wild when I lick your ears.” I shrug. “That’s not what would win us the Mr and Mrs quiz night at the Red Lion.”

He stands up, folding his arms, and a stubborn look comes over his face. “I might not know your fucking favourite colour or which type of cloud you prefer and there may be more to get to know, but I do know you’re funny and brave and completely wonderful.”

I gape at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You’ve never said that before.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well, that makes me an idiot, but it certainly doesn’t make you one. I didn’t let you in. I was an utter idiot when we got married. I thought I was clever and for some reason your life should fit around mine. Why the fuck should it?”

I feel like the carpet has been pulled from under my feet. The passion and honesty are vivid in his voice.

Someone knocks on the door. “Joe?” Erica’s brother calls.

“Be right with you, Noah,” I shout. I sigh and scrub my hand through my hair. “I have to go.”

“I know,” he says softly. “It’s your job, and you’re amazing at it.”

“I am?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you doubt it?”

“No,” I say tartly. “I just didn’t think you ever noticed.”

“Well, I did.” He pauses. “And I am sorry that I’ve intruded on that. I just needed to —”

He trails off and I open my mouth to question him but then the knock comes again. “One minute,” I call. “Go and wait in the bar and I’ll meet you in there.” I look at Lachlan and sigh. This is going nowhere. He might be saying all these nice things, but at the end of the day we’re completely different people.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He scans my face, his eyes sharp, but then his face shutters and he gives an easy shrug. “Okay.”

“Just like that?”

He regards me with alarming stillness. Then he gives me a crooked smile. “I can’t make you stay married to me.”

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