Page 37 of Falling for the Wife

I couldn’t stand there any longer, enduring their pitying stares or fake notions of friendship. Some even had the audacity to wonder how much of my father’s estate I’d be inheriting. Why should I withstand their presence when I could barely stand my own company?

It was the second night after the funeral. School was in five days, and for the life of me, my addled brain was too unfocused to even fathom going to Stanford. I was majoring in Computer Science, minoring in Psychology, but at the rate my brain fog was progressing, I doubted anything could register and absorb in my head. Heck, it was so beyond disconcerting that even reading a nutrition label felt as though I was deciphering morse code. The idea of overloading my mind with database systems, algorithms, and software engineering would unquestionably overload my seemingly incapacitated brain. Aggravating, it guaranteed setting off all the stressors in my body.

Then again, as much as I dreaded the thought of school, I knew my father would be highly disappointed if I used his death as an excuse to miss classes. He rarely demanded things from me, but missing school triggered his wrath. My father never raised his voice even when furious. Instead of yelling, Peter Weber would properly use a chilling voice—one encumbered with silent threats—successfully implementing it with a cutting glare, shriveling any happiness in me. I comprehended since first grade that pretending to have a fever wouldn’t cut it with my parents. Unless I was close to dying, missing a school day was out of the question. According to my father, it was as good as betrayal could get for him. Rather unconventional, but he disciplined me not to surrender when the going got tough.

Five days to train my mind. Surely, the timeframe was enough to accomplish such a task, right?

“You really need to start eating, Gisele.” Jared’s concerned tone broke me out of my reverie.

I blinked a few times.

“I’m trying,” I said without glancing at him. The formal dining area felt too barren of warmth. He rigidly sat across from me. My father’s empty chair left a gaping hole in our little dynamic. It sucked the energy out from between us. And I knew we simply couldn’t go on like this. Something had to be done. Tomorrow, I’d like to suggest to Thomas that I’d truly appreciate it if we could dine in the kitchen, instead. He’d be displeased; he loathed impropriety, but what the hell? It was either that or I’d request a tray in my room. The latter did not appeal to me at all.

“You had a bite of a sandwich all day. That’s hardly considered a meal,” he grumbled. Nothing ever escaped his hawkish attention to detail.

“You can’t force me to eat.” Eyeing him waspishly, I was about to blow my gasket when his worried face truly dawned on me. Did he believe I intended to kill myself through starvation?

I’m in mourning, not suicidal!

For the first time in days, cerulean blues sparked fire again. “I won’t have to. I’ll bring in the big guns to force feed you.”

Big guns? Yeah, nice try, Aussie man. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Try me.” His menacing eyes didn’t waver from my sullen appearance. “I’ll warn Blair and Vivienne if you don’t finish half of your dinner.”

Big guns, ha. He was beginning to grasp the simple makings of my life. He knew my friends meant the world to me. And he understood after spending time with them that they could be downright insufferable when given leverage. They’d been pestering me, and Jared’s call for emergency assistance would only fuel their over-the-top smothering.

Halfheartedly, I began to lift the fork, pierced a piece of lamb chop, and brought it to my mouth. The thought of food made me want to hurl, but if I didn’t get my act together, Jared surely would exhibit how he could easily make my life hell. Not that I didn’t love my friends, but I could do with some solitude and much needed silence.

“Good girl.” His pleased tone merely grated on my nerves.

“You’re annoying me.”

“Call me whatever you like. As long as you eat, I honestly don’t care.” He threw me an arresting smile, loving the irritated look on me as I grudgingly chewed another bite of lamb.

I inwardly sighed. Even when vexed, his gorgeous smiles still made me feel faint. Grieving or not, Jared’s effect hadn’t dissipated. It was strong as ever. “You think you can throw me a gorgeous smile and it would make me less annoyed? You can think again.”

His maddening grin widened before he guffawed. “Gorgeous you say?” he intoned. It made his Australian accent much more pronounced. “If you think you can flirt your way out of this, you can also think again. You’re cute, but I’d rather have you cute and satisfied.” His face lit up, and for a second, he and I shared a moment, one that said we were grateful to have each other to console with.

My inner bitch began to dissolve. Pacified by faith, I trusted everything would eventually fall into place. Then the heavy ache in my heart would ultimately vanish, and I’d learn how to be ecstatic again.

“I forgot to say thank you for everything you’ve done. I hope you don’t deem me ungrateful. There’s been a lot on my mind...It’s been tough.”

Jared cast a thoughtful gaze. “I don’t need your thanks, Gisele. You’re family. We’re a unit. We’re business partners as well as friends. And at the end of the day, I’m also your husband. It’s my obligation to catch you when you fall. When you’re blinded with pain, it’s my duty to be your pillar of strength. Ours is unconventional, but the last few days led me to believe we’ll do fine. We have a legacy to uphold, a company to protect, and I won’t be able to accomplish that without you. Once you find your footing, I hope you’ll try to come twice a week so I can show you what our purpose is. There’s a mammoth task ahead of us. But so long as we’re on the same page, we can conquer whatever difficulties are headed our way.”

I merely nodded, understanding his plight. Jared would be in my life through thick and thin, through heaven and hell. Come what may, we were going to work together. His positivity somehow made me feel less down and out. He showed me a glimpse of a future, one that entailed I actually be a part of my father’s company. Why hadn’t that thought truly entered my mind? Maybe it was due to my father. He never did broach such a subject with me. Well, apparently Jared thought otherwise. The idea of being a part of their world, my father and Jared’s, made me feel as though I could somehow feel my father’s presence. The brightness of hope, of the future, and I craved more of it.

After dinner, I headed upstairs to shower before bed while Jared went into the library for a quick conference call to our Hong Kong headquarters. The hot shower calmed my nerves. Once finished, I changed into a slip before lighting a candle. The scent of plumeria was heaven to my deprived senses.

Feeling quite satisfied, I padded across the room and slid under the comforter. I made use of my time responding to messages. A couple of them included Wyatt and Dexter Berg.

After quickly replying to Wyatt’s inquiry about my present sad state, I hastily read Dexter’s message. His conveyed the same sentiment as Wyatt’s, but it added how glad he was to be back and how he hoped to see me soon. We were childhood friends, but after the rift between our fathers, I only saw him through social gatherings and private parties through friends we had in common.

I pondered a moment before finally deciding that it was best to respond to him tomorrow. The thought of entertaining old friends so soon after my father’s passing was just too much to comprehend for the time being. Carefully placing the phone back on the side table, I heard Jared enter the bedroom.

“I hope you’ve dried your hair this time,” I muttered my blatant protest of his wet hair dripping on the back of my neck. The man had a habit of loving to put his wet hair on my skin after he showered in his suite, one that I wasn’t such a huge fan of.

“Why do you do this to me, woman?” he groaned in the background, making me secretly smile. Though he wasn’t thrilled, I could hear him towel his hair dry in the bathroom. “You’re becoming a nightmare,” he loudly mused upon joining me in bed before gathering me in his arms. An action he’d freely indulged in on a nightly basis. At first, it was rather odd, but as the nights wore on, it became a normal thing between us.