Page 25 of Pretend Wife (Angels of the Secret Order #4)

NINETEEN

Danielle

I’d known something was wrong from the second the blond bombshell had called Hayden’s name.

Tension had crowded his shoulders, and his emotions became a chaotic mix of negativity.

That was what had prompted me to step in front of him and introduce myself as his wife.

I just wanted to protect him from the woman who’d caused him to feel so much hurt, dread, and bitterness. And it was technically true, after all.

But then she’d shoved that phone in front of our faces with a picture of her son, who was coincidentally the perfect age to be conceived when she and Hayden had been “very close.”

And if that wasn’t bad enough, Hayden had looked downright nauseated when he saw the picture.

But there was no surprise in his aura, no indication that he didn’t know about the child.

He knew. And he hadn’t told me—not when we dated for a year, not when he asked me to fake marry him, and not earlier today when he told me he wanted me back.

“I don’t have a son,” Hayden said softly. “He’s not mine.” Pain so bright it was almost blinding wrapped around him like snakes that were trying to strangle him.

I reached over and threaded my fingers through his. I couldn’t help the urge to offer him some kind of comfort, to lend him whatever strength I could. Even if I was still kind of mad at him for making me feel like a fool in front of Jacqueline.

His hand squeezed mine as he stared off into space.

“I’d been dating Jacqueline for less than a year when we found out she was pregnant.

I was only twenty-two, had just started working at Blake Hotels, and didn’t feel at all ready to start a family.

But I wanted to do it right, to raise my kid in a good home…

or as good as possible. I’d actually bought a ring and planned the proposal dinner, but I was a little early picking her up and walked in on her with some other guy.

After that, I insisted on a paternity test. The baby wasn’t mine. ”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand.

“The stupid thing is that I didn’t even care that she cheated and slept with someone else—losing her didn’t even hurt.

But finding out her kid wasn’t mine felt like finding out my child had died.

It was a loss I had no idea how to get over.

” He tugged at his hair with his free hand.

“I tried. I spent three years in Europe just to get away from everything. But nothing really worked. It was like trying to fix a stab wound with a Band-Aid. It just got infected and has been festering for close to seven years. ”

I wanted to hug him, to find some way to take his pain and grief away and bear it myself. It didn’t matter that the child had never been his. That didn’t change the reality of how it felt for him. He’d believed he was going to be a father and then he wasn’t, and he’d been grieving for years.

“It’s okay to hurt,” I murmured. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

He smiled without any real joy. “You of all people shouldn’t be saying that.

Me not being okay is what ruined us last time.

I thought I was getting too attached to you, and I didn’t ever want to feel the pain of losing someone I cared about that deeply again.

I was so terrified of losing you that I pushed you away. ”

“We all do things we’re not proud of when we’re in pain.” I’d never been through the kind of loss Hayden had, but I’d made a lot of choices out of fear, and those choices were inevitably going to hurt the people I cared about. Hayden included.

I understood what it was like to watch your life spin out of control in front of your eyes and helplessly wonder where it all went so wrong.

I knew how it felt to obsess over a situation, looking for a way you could have done things differently and finding nothing.

Sometimes things happened to us, and there was no way to avoid it.

At least now I understood why he’d left last year, why he’d erased me for no apparent reason. Hayden’s trust issues ran deeper than I’d realized. He let them rule him as much as I let my fear rule me.

“Don’t make excuses for me, Danielle,” Hayden said in a low voice. “Don’t you dare forgive me easily just because I’m in pain. You were too.”

I swallowed hard. “That may be, but you never promised me anything. We weren’t official.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay.”

Silence descended over us for the rest of the car ride back to Hayden’s penthouse.

When Caleb pulled up outside the building, Hayden came around and opened my door for me. I placed my hand in his, and he pulled me into his chest with one swift tug.

“Thank you,” he murmured into my hair.

“For what?”

“Having my back with Jacqueline even though you didn’t know the situation. I don’t deserve you, but I want to.”

“I’m not a saint, Hayden.” I leaned back so I could look up at him. “Don’t give me more credit than I have a right to.”

He didn’t let go of me as we took the elevator up to the top floor, but I peeled myself away as soon as we were inside the penthouse.

The guilt was starting to catch up with me. Hayden had shared some of his darkness with me; he’d been vulnerable and trusted me with one of the worst moments of his life. I wanted to share my secrets with him too, to tell him the truth about my angelic heritage and my family. But I couldn’t .

Not with Beelzebub’s threats hanging over my head like the blade of a guillotine .

Hayden was wrong. I was the one who didn’t deserve him . Not the other way around.

“Morning.” Hayden greeted me when I walked into the sweet-smelling kitchen Sunday morning. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine? You know, you’re always welcome in my room if you’d prefer it. The bed is a king, so we could even pretend we’re going to stay on our own sides.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. “Because that worked so well at the beach house.”

“Hey, we made a very valiant effort. What happens when we’re unconscious is not our fault. Maybe.” He grabbed two mugs from the cabinet, set one beside the coffee maker, and filled the other with water before sticking it in the microwave.

I rested my elbows on the kitchen island, leaning over to try to see inside the oven from which the delicious scents were coming. “What are you making?”

“Pumpkin muffins. I’ve never made them without eggs before though, so I can’t make any promises that they’ll be good.”

“Was this another recipe from your Europe travels?”

“Nope. Freddie’s mother taught us how to make them when we were little kids. She’s an amazing cook and cared more about letting us help than the food turning out perfect.”

“Does your mom cook? ”

“Not much. Dad prides himself on being able to afford having someone to cook for them.”

The microwave dinged, and Hayden turned away from me to dump two tea bags into the tall mug of steaming water. Not only did he know which brand and flavor I liked in the morning, he knew that I put two bags in.

“Did I do it wrong?” he asked, raising his dark brows at me.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head slowly. “It’s perfect.” And yes, I sounded surprised, but he was almost always gone before I got myself tea in the mornings.

He moved around the island and pressed the mug into my hands, following the action with a kiss to the top of my head.

My lips parted in surprise. It felt like I’d been transported to a year ago.

But also entirely different. It was like the wall that had always existed between us was weaker.

It wasn’t gone by any means—I was still holding on to my secrets—but there was a level of understanding between us that was new. Hayden felt warmer, more relaxed.

“Thank you,” I murmured, taking a sip of my tea.

Hayden didn’t move to put space between us. He was close enough that his pine scent enveloped me, and I inhaled him in with every breath. He wasn’t saying anything, but he was watching me with keen attention, like I was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

“What?” I asked when I couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Does it bother you to miss church?”

“What? ”

He reached out, and my breath caught in my throat as his fingers ran over the chain of my cross necklace. “You’re Christian, right?”

“You could say that.” Christianity was a human religion, based on a gift Father had given exclusively to humans, and it didn’t really apply to me. But it wasn’t like I could tell Hayden I was an angel.

“You haven’t been to a church service since we got married.” His fingers fiddled with the pendant.

“Neither have you.”

He dropped my necklace and shrugged. “I haven’t been since I was a kid. Once I was old enough to decide what I believed for myself, I left that behind.”

“You don’t believe in God?” I asked.

“No, I do. I just don’t believe he gives a fuck about me.”

A deep ache spread across my chest. In a way that seemed more painful than not believing in a higher power at all, to believe you meant nothing to your Creator.

“Do you want Him to?” I asked.

“I used to. Before I got sick of talking into a void.”

“So now you don’t want Him to?”

“I already have one father who doesn’t listen to me or care about what I want. I don’t need another one.”

“Your father cares about you,” I said softly. And I was confident God did too.

“I didn’t say he doesn’t care about me. I know he does. He loves me. And somehow that makes it worse that he doesn’t care about my likes and desires. He loves me as his son but doesn’t seem to give two shits about who I am as a person.”

“Have you tried telling him how you feel?”