Page 47 of Barging In

V ictoria closed her eyes, not only to block the view of her husband, but to distract herself from where she was. She always hated using the lift, but climbing the stairs to the penthouse wasn’t an option.

“What happened to your old driver?” she asked, eyes still tightly closed.

“He asked for a raise, so I fired him,” Drew bragged.

Victoria’s eyes shot open in alarm. “He had four kids.”

“Five.” He grinned smugly as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “His wife had another a few months ago. You’d think he’d have been grateful to have a job instead of trying to extort more money from me. The new driver is single and very grateful for the opportunity.”

Victoria sighed inwardly at yet another arsehole move by her husband.

She’d watched him all night, puffing out his chest, name-dropping, laughing at his own jokes, clapping people on the back.

Clem was right about him; he’d make a great politician.

Drew’s effortless arrogance was second nature and utterly hollow.

What was she even doing there, hanging off his arm like a devoted wife, making him look good? She wanted more than this.

Her mind drifted back to Clem. She was probably asleep by now, curled up in her comfy bed on Florence .

The memory of her scent returned, floral and spicy, filling her nose from nowhere.

It was so vivid it filled Victoria’s mouth with the taste of her, making her chest ache.

She pushed it away. It hurt too much to keep recalling that kiss, no matter how fiercely it made her burn.

The lift doors finally slid open, revealing the dimly lit expanse of the penthouse lounge.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a dark blue sky dotted with city lights that twinkled like distant stars.

The view made her knees weaken. She clicked a button on the wall control to close the blinds, then kicked off her heels.

Drew pressed his lips to a gleaming bronze award shaped like interlocking beams, mounted on a slab of polished granite.

He placed it reverently on the coffee table, then shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the sofa.

A small table in the corner by the window held a vast array of bottles.

She watched as he filled two with whisky.

She wasn’t sure she needed any more, and he certainly didn’t.

“Thanks for coming, Hannah,” he said as he picked up the glasses.

Victoria froze. What the hell! Okay, he spent more time with her.

Was it only natural for him to slip? What was she thinking?

She was his wife — his wife — not some floozy he’d been screwing for who knows how long.

There was her feeling guilty about kissing Clem, and he couldn’t even remember her fucking name. She definitely deserved more than this.

He turned, whisky glasses in hand, and caught the look on her face. “Vic, I mean,” he corrected. “Fuck! Sorry.” Walking over, he handed her a glass and sank onto the sofa.

“I kissed someone,” she blurted out. God, it felt good to say it aloud.

“What?”

His tone sounded more like he wasn’t listening than that he cared.

“I kissed someone,” she repeated.

“Oh, right,” he said slowly. “I kind of assumed you saw other people, too.”

“No. I haven’t. Until recently, the thought never crossed my mind. I’m not proud of what I did; unlike you, my wedding vows meant something to me. I wouldn’t bring someone back to our home.”

He sighed, as though she were a child failing to grasp a simple concept. “We were heading to Bristol for a meeting, and since we were passing by, it seemed sensible to stay. I didn’t think you’d mind since you were at the spa.”

“A rule is a rule. No exceptions,” Victoria stated, unflinching.

“I did mind. I had to wash everything. It made me feel physically sick that she’d been there.

You arrived late to my party and left early.

We agreed we’d show up for each other when needed — like I have for you tonight — but you couldn’t do that.

You even had her sat in the car waiting for you. ”

The look of surprise suggested he thought no one had noticed.

“Yes, Jasper saw you kiss her,” Victoria growled. “Others saw you. Do you know how humiliating that was? That was another rule broken — that others don’t find out.”

“I thought we agreed on seeing other people,” he protested. “That was how we wanted things to work.”

“We did. But if I hadn’t agreed, you would have done it anyway. So, was it a choice or capitulation? At least by agreeing, I got to set some ground rules, most of which you’ve broken.”

“What are you getting at, Vic?”

At least he finally got her name right.

“I want a divorce,” she announced flatly, staring down at him as her heart pounded in her chest.

“That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?” He shot up off the sofa, drained his glass, and headed back to the drinks table to refill it.

Her throat tightened at his dismissal. “We don’t love each other, and we barely see each other. It’s hardly a marriage.”

“We can work this out, Vic,” he said casually, crossing the room to her side. “We don’t need to divorce. Let’s start again. Come back to London. We’ll sell the wharf and the house.”

She knew she didn’t want that — there was nothing she wanted less — and she was pretty sure he didn’t want that either.

There was a rattle in his throat, a slight shake in his hand, and beads of sweat on his skin.

Drew wasn’t fighting for their marriage; he was afraid of the consequences of it ending.

The thought that he was terrified filled her with determination: She was going to get what she wanted.

“Or we could divorce,” she said, standing with arms akimbo. “I’ll keep the house and the entire wharf — the business and the building — and take nothing else.”

He looked up. At first his tired, slightly drunken expression was inscrutable. Was he upset by her lack of emotion? Puzzled? But then relief flooded his face; to Victoria, he looked like a man getting a last-minute reprieve from death row .

“Deal.” And then he put his hand out, like he expected her to bloody shake on it.

Victoria’s stomach churned. Her blood boiled. How fucking typical of Drew. “This isn’t one of your business transactions,” she growled. “This is our marriage we’re ending — a contract we made to each other.”

He sheepishly withdrew his hand as she took a breath.

Clem had been right; Drew was full of fear. Scared she’d take him for half of everything. A small voice wondered if she still should, to punish him, but that wasn’t like her. As much as she liked the sudden flicker of power, she didn’t want revenge.

“What happened to us? What happened to you?” she said softly.

He shrugged as he collapsed onto the sofa, sloshing whisky over the rim of his glass.

“Knowing I couldn’t give you — us — a child, when you so desperately wanted one. It…”

“Changed you? Yes, I noticed.”

He glared at her. “Do you know what it felt like? Not being able to have kids?”

“Yes, I do,” she snapped. “I knew exactly what it felt like. I was there. It happened to me, too. But that’s always been your problem, Drew: You never notice anyone but yourself.

It didn’t only happen to you. It happened to us.

And we went through it alone. I needed support, too, but it was all about you.

No one ever asked how I felt. No one saw my pain. ”

“You should have divorced me when we found out,” he replied wearily. “No one would’ve blamed you. I was always surprised you stuck around. I was grateful you did, though. I couldn’t afford to divorce you.”

“I loved you,” she choked. “What else was I going to do but stay? ”

“ Loved ,” he sighed. “We did love each other, didn’t we? A long time ago.”

“In a different life,” Victoria mused.

“You might not have walked out, but you did leave,” he accused. “Those bloody buildings became your obsession.”

“They weren’t the reason I left,” she replied, eyes fixed on the floor. “And they weren’t the reason I didn’t come back. There wasn’t anything for me to come back to.”

He nodded.“I guess our marriage was over a long time before I realised.”

That was typical Drew, not noticing the really important things until it was too late.

She wondered if that was why he’d never tried to fix their marriage — he was too wrapped up in himself to see there was a problem in the first place.

But then again, she’d never spoken up, always convinced it was selfish to let others know she was hurting, too.

Maybe they were both to blame. The truth was, she didn’t care anymore.

“So, why now?” he asked.

Victoria looked at her feet and sighed. “I’m tired of pretending.”

“You said you kissed someone. Is it serious?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “but I’d like to find out.”

She slipped her wedding ring off and placed it gently on the table in front of him.

“Thank you for agreeing,” she said gently.

He stared at the ring for a moment, then gave a drunken, dismissive shrug. She hoped he wouldn’t change his mind about their agreed terms in the cold light of day.

“The house is my personal asset, so I can transfer that to you,” he said.

“However, the company owns the freehold over the wharf. I can’t hand it over so easily, but I’m sure I can find a way to make it happen.

Keep in mind that you’ll be responsible for all the upkeep, including repairs, maintenance, and insurance.

I strongly recommend you hire a property management company to handle it all. ”

Victoria nodded. It was as she suspected — at least in part, realising she would become an unwitting landlord. But at least she would be the owner of the beautiful building that felt like her very heartbeat.

“I could have my team continue what they are doing now,” he offered.

“No,” she replied quickly, keen to cut all ties with this man. “I’m sure I’ll work it out.”

He shrugged again and stared into the distance. “Hannah will want us to get married now.”