Page 59 of Between Commitment and Betrayal

My name would be attached to hers when the marriage license came out, my name would put her in the limelight and shine a spotlight on whatever she was trying to keep in the darkness.

She shrugged and opened her door. “Honestly, I’m fine with the press writing whatever they want. I’ve seen it all, really. I don’t want your name dragged down, though. So, I recommend you and Piper do what you have to.”

“Me and Piper? Everly, this isn’t about me and—”

“Good night, Declan.” She cut me off and slammed the car door on the way to the front door.

I let my car idle in front of the guesthouse for too long, wondering if I had any right to go in there. Although it was mine and I knew I could go in any time I liked, it felt intrusive.

Her living room light glowed like it did every night, and I sighed and pulled my car into my garage. As I got ready for bed, a smaller light flickered on. It stayed on most of the night.

I worked over numbers, signed deals and contracts, but mostly, I watched those fucking lights that night.

I even went to my pool for a swim in an attempt to clear my head, but instead, my mind wandered to those damn lights.

I called my brothers to discuss more business. Yet, I paced and watched the stupid lights.

* * *

We didn’t talkto one another the next morning either, not until the compact tractors with backhoe attachments came through the gates. I watched as the started to dig up the gardenia bushes, one by one, and I smiled when she came out to stare at them, her mouth agape.

She didn’t come up to my house though.

She pulled her cell out of her leggings pocket and sent a text instead.

Everly: You’re ruining the whole perimeter of your guesthouse.

Me: Ruining? I’m making it better.

Everly: People love gardenias.

Me: Yes, but according to my wife’s safe word, she hates them.

Everly: It’s going to take forever to get new plants in there, Declan. Those gardenias look like they’d been there for years.

Me: I’m not concerned. Feel free to open your windows tomorrow and smell the fresh air.

I didn’t wait to get another text from her. Instead, I went to stand by her side as she looked on and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. We watched in silence. Maybe we knew our time was limited, that the press was about to rip us apart the way I was ripping apart the boundary of our guesthouse, but the moment between us was sacred.

As she watched, one tear drop rolled down her cheek. She patted my chest and then backed away. “I’ll appreciate the fresh air, Declan. I’ve missed it for quite a while.”

She walked back into her house and I watched her go, not sure what she meant but sure it had something to do with her past. It took every ounce of restraint not to look her up, not to dig through the internet to find exactly what happened to her back home. But it felt like an invasion of her privacy, an invasion she hadn’t done to me. I know she hadn’t looked up what happened to my wrist, knew she’d wanted the story straight from my lips.

20

DECLAN

The restof the afternoon and into the night, I did the same damn thing I’d done the night before.

I watched her lights.

Tried to work.

And miserably failed.

I even ended up pushing myself harder in the gym than I intended to.

I’d looked forward to getting her in my car the next morning and having a talk with her on our way to work. Yet, when the sun rose, I was ambushed by Anastasia and Melinda at the crack of dawn, both of them doing exactly what Clara said they would.