Page 37
Story: The Rejected Wife
"To Felix." The rest of us toast him.
Then, Knox places his glass on the table and rises to his feet. He heads toward the house, where a woman steps out onto the porch. She’s tall, willowy, and wearing a green dress that reaches below her knees. It’s sleeveless, baring her gorgeous shoulders. Her auburn hair is a waterfall of health that flows down her back. Her eyes are almond shaped, her skin creamy, and so pale the sun seems to be reflecting off of it to bathe her in an ethereal light.
My heart slams into my chest with such force, I’m sure I’ve broken a few ribs.What. The. Fuck?What is Priscilla doing here? And why is Knox leading her over to the table?
He seats her on his left.
I drink in her features, unable to believe it’s her.
That creamy expanse of her neckline, those pink rosebud lips, the pert upturned nose, the thick auburn hair which is longer than it was when I last saw her—I can’t take my gaze off her. It feels like I’ve been rewarded with a ray of sunlight after scrambling in the dark for six months.
Taking care of a child subsumes your own life, as I've discovered. So, it was easy enough to tell myself that I didn’t miss Cilla. That I was too busy with my new reality. That she was better off without me. But seeing her now, in all her glory, is a gut punch. One that turns my heart into a live volcano and my blood to molten lava. I draw in a breath, and the oxygen seems to inflame my desire, my need, my yearning for her. I’ve missed her. Missed her smile, her spirit, her curves. I’ve missed having her in my life.
In a matter of hours, she wormed her way into my heart, dissolved into my soul, her scent embedded in my skin in a way that I haven’t been able to shake off. And the time and distance bring home just how much I’ve wanted to see her.
I will her to look at me, but she avoids my gaze.
Her eyelids are lowered, and she folds her hands in her lap, her expression almost serene. It’s only the pulse beating at the base of her neck which gives her away. She’s nervous. And the way she holds herself stiffly, with her spine erect and shoulders squared, I have an inkling that she knew she’d see me here today. And she’s prepared to ignore me. Not that I blame her. Not after how I told her to get out of my life.
"Can I do the honors?" Arthur glances around the table.
Knox shrugs. "By all means."
"This is Priscilla Whittington, Toren Whittington’s sister." Arthur nods in her direction. "Toren and I agree that the best way to resolve our family feud and join our collective fortunes is through an arranged marriage."
An arranged marriage?My heart drops into my stomach. My guts heave. No fucking way. Does he mean her and Knox? My dream woman and my brother?No!This can’t be happening. My throat closes. I squeeze my fingers around the wineglass holding the spritzer.
"Of course, you did." Brody snorts.
Arthur ignores him. “Tor couldn’t be here, but he was happy for us to go ahead with announcing?—"
"To cut a long story short, Priscilla has agreed to be my wife," Knox cuts in with a bored eye roll.
There’s the sound of a glass breaking. I glance down to find the water glass I was holding has shattered. Water drips down the side of the wooden table. Blood drips from my palm. I can’t feel the pain. I push back from the table. Instinct draws my attention back to Priscilla. She watches me with a stricken look. Her brown eyes are filled with pain and regret. I glance from her to Knox’s considering look. He tilts his head, looks from me to Priscilla, and a look of understanding comes into his eyes.
I rise to my feet and stalk off.
* * *
I take a sip from my tumbler of whiskey and stare out from the window of my living room. It’s dark outside. The lights of the city twinkle in the distance.
Serene is asleep. It took hours for her to drop off. Likely, she picked up on my disquiet. I’ve learned how sensitive she can be to how I feel. And likewise, I’m tuned into her enough to know when she’s hungry or wet or wants attention. It helps that she’s already able to communicate her basic needs. But even before that, I became an expert in picking up on her unspoken cues. It’s strange how quickly we bonded… Or maybe not. She’s an adorable child. And I found myself falling for her very quickly.
After I walked out of the lunch at Arthur’s place, I went to Saint’s home to pick her up.
His wife, Victoria, and Sinclair’s wife, Summer, are the only two people Serene is happy to be with. They’ve helped to babysit when needed, advised me on everything from feeding to changing nappies to potty training—a phenomenon I never thought I’d spend so much time obsessing about.
When I told them about my experience with the last nanny and why I had to fire her, they insisted on drawing up a shortlist of nannies for me to contact. They advised me that it was a matter of continuing to search until I found the right one.
How I wish I had someone in my life with whom I could talk these things over. Someone with whom I could share the delight in Serene’s growing and crossing important developmental goals, like walking. Or when she said her first word. I miss having a confidante, someone living life with me who will understand my concerns and offer alternative viewpoints.Someone like Cilla.Clearly, she’s on my mind because I saw her earlier. Nothing prepared me for that.
I asked her to get out of my life—and today, she showed me just how much she took that to heart by appearing in my life as my brother's fiancée-to-be. That's a curveball I had not anticipated. Damn. I feel the need to toss back the whiskey I’m holding, but with a child in the other room, I’m limiting myself to one drink. I need to savor this one.
Patience… That’s what this entire gig as a parent has taught me. Perseverance. Persistence. The three Ps in my life.And what about Priscilla?
I shove the thought away. Since Serene came into my life, everything has become more complicated. If Priscilla were here, she’d have been dragged into the chaos too. No — asking her to leave was the right choice.
I couldn’t, in good conscience, ask her to treat my problems as her own. I would never have been able to give her the kind of attention she deserved; not when I’ve spent almost every waking minute learning how to be a dad. But to have Priscilla turn up six months later and engaged to my brother? Fuck. That’s same crazy shit.
Then, Knox places his glass on the table and rises to his feet. He heads toward the house, where a woman steps out onto the porch. She’s tall, willowy, and wearing a green dress that reaches below her knees. It’s sleeveless, baring her gorgeous shoulders. Her auburn hair is a waterfall of health that flows down her back. Her eyes are almond shaped, her skin creamy, and so pale the sun seems to be reflecting off of it to bathe her in an ethereal light.
My heart slams into my chest with such force, I’m sure I’ve broken a few ribs.What. The. Fuck?What is Priscilla doing here? And why is Knox leading her over to the table?
He seats her on his left.
I drink in her features, unable to believe it’s her.
That creamy expanse of her neckline, those pink rosebud lips, the pert upturned nose, the thick auburn hair which is longer than it was when I last saw her—I can’t take my gaze off her. It feels like I’ve been rewarded with a ray of sunlight after scrambling in the dark for six months.
Taking care of a child subsumes your own life, as I've discovered. So, it was easy enough to tell myself that I didn’t miss Cilla. That I was too busy with my new reality. That she was better off without me. But seeing her now, in all her glory, is a gut punch. One that turns my heart into a live volcano and my blood to molten lava. I draw in a breath, and the oxygen seems to inflame my desire, my need, my yearning for her. I’ve missed her. Missed her smile, her spirit, her curves. I’ve missed having her in my life.
In a matter of hours, she wormed her way into my heart, dissolved into my soul, her scent embedded in my skin in a way that I haven’t been able to shake off. And the time and distance bring home just how much I’ve wanted to see her.
I will her to look at me, but she avoids my gaze.
Her eyelids are lowered, and she folds her hands in her lap, her expression almost serene. It’s only the pulse beating at the base of her neck which gives her away. She’s nervous. And the way she holds herself stiffly, with her spine erect and shoulders squared, I have an inkling that she knew she’d see me here today. And she’s prepared to ignore me. Not that I blame her. Not after how I told her to get out of my life.
"Can I do the honors?" Arthur glances around the table.
Knox shrugs. "By all means."
"This is Priscilla Whittington, Toren Whittington’s sister." Arthur nods in her direction. "Toren and I agree that the best way to resolve our family feud and join our collective fortunes is through an arranged marriage."
An arranged marriage?My heart drops into my stomach. My guts heave. No fucking way. Does he mean her and Knox? My dream woman and my brother?No!This can’t be happening. My throat closes. I squeeze my fingers around the wineglass holding the spritzer.
"Of course, you did." Brody snorts.
Arthur ignores him. “Tor couldn’t be here, but he was happy for us to go ahead with announcing?—"
"To cut a long story short, Priscilla has agreed to be my wife," Knox cuts in with a bored eye roll.
There’s the sound of a glass breaking. I glance down to find the water glass I was holding has shattered. Water drips down the side of the wooden table. Blood drips from my palm. I can’t feel the pain. I push back from the table. Instinct draws my attention back to Priscilla. She watches me with a stricken look. Her brown eyes are filled with pain and regret. I glance from her to Knox’s considering look. He tilts his head, looks from me to Priscilla, and a look of understanding comes into his eyes.
I rise to my feet and stalk off.
* * *
I take a sip from my tumbler of whiskey and stare out from the window of my living room. It’s dark outside. The lights of the city twinkle in the distance.
Serene is asleep. It took hours for her to drop off. Likely, she picked up on my disquiet. I’ve learned how sensitive she can be to how I feel. And likewise, I’m tuned into her enough to know when she’s hungry or wet or wants attention. It helps that she’s already able to communicate her basic needs. But even before that, I became an expert in picking up on her unspoken cues. It’s strange how quickly we bonded… Or maybe not. She’s an adorable child. And I found myself falling for her very quickly.
After I walked out of the lunch at Arthur’s place, I went to Saint’s home to pick her up.
His wife, Victoria, and Sinclair’s wife, Summer, are the only two people Serene is happy to be with. They’ve helped to babysit when needed, advised me on everything from feeding to changing nappies to potty training—a phenomenon I never thought I’d spend so much time obsessing about.
When I told them about my experience with the last nanny and why I had to fire her, they insisted on drawing up a shortlist of nannies for me to contact. They advised me that it was a matter of continuing to search until I found the right one.
How I wish I had someone in my life with whom I could talk these things over. Someone with whom I could share the delight in Serene’s growing and crossing important developmental goals, like walking. Or when she said her first word. I miss having a confidante, someone living life with me who will understand my concerns and offer alternative viewpoints.Someone like Cilla.Clearly, she’s on my mind because I saw her earlier. Nothing prepared me for that.
I asked her to get out of my life—and today, she showed me just how much she took that to heart by appearing in my life as my brother's fiancée-to-be. That's a curveball I had not anticipated. Damn. I feel the need to toss back the whiskey I’m holding, but with a child in the other room, I’m limiting myself to one drink. I need to savor this one.
Patience… That’s what this entire gig as a parent has taught me. Perseverance. Persistence. The three Ps in my life.And what about Priscilla?
I shove the thought away. Since Serene came into my life, everything has become more complicated. If Priscilla were here, she’d have been dragged into the chaos too. No — asking her to leave was the right choice.
I couldn’t, in good conscience, ask her to treat my problems as her own. I would never have been able to give her the kind of attention she deserved; not when I’ve spent almost every waking minute learning how to be a dad. But to have Priscilla turn up six months later and engaged to my brother? Fuck. That’s same crazy shit.
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