Page 43 of Pretend Wife (Angels of the Secret Order #4)

THIRTY-TWO

Hayden

Ten days.

That’s how long it had been since I left Danielle standing outside her brother’s apartment.

I’d spent the first night in a hotel room, but then I came home to the penthouse, where everything reminded me of her.

Her tea was in my cabinets, her scent lingered in the air, her beanbag chairs were in my living room, her clothes were in my closet, and her shampoo was in my shower. The only thing missing was her.

She hadn’t come back once, not even to get her stuff. I’d gone so far as to check the security footage to make sure I hadn’t missed her that first night.

She didn’t text me or call. At least not in the week before I shattered my phone against the wall when I got sick of it going off with messages and calls from everyone except my wife. Would she even be my wife much longer ?

I’d screwed up. I hadn’t handled anything well, and now she was gone.

I didn’t know where she was, but it wasn’t here with me, in our home. My brother probably knew where she was… just like he’d known she was an angel. It seemed Miles knew all sorts of things about Danielle before I was privy to the information.

“Fuck!” I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes. Those were the thoughts that had gotten me in this mess in the first place.

Ten fucking days.

Where the hell was she? Was she ever coming back? Had I lost her for good?

What would I do if she never came home? I couldn’t exactly stay in the penthouse forever, waiting for her to walk through the door.

I wasn’t an idiot—okay, I was, but that wasn’t the point—I knew I owed her an apology. I’d left when she begged me not to, and I’d accused her of lying to me. She deserved a chance to tell me her side of the story. But I couldn’t give her an apology without seeing her.

She said she wanted to talk. But now she was nowhere to be found.

I leaned back in the beanbag chair I was currently sitting in and stared at my living room ceiling two stories above me.

Had this place always been so empty? So lonely?

I couldn’t remember ever caring before, but now all I could hear and see was the lack of Danielle’s presence.

She’d changed this penthouse from an apartment to a home.

I was pretty sure I used to like solitude, loved having my own space where no one bothered me. Now I’d give anything to have Danielle barge in and ruin my peace and quiet.

A knock on the door had me jumping to my feet in half a second, before reality caught up to me. Danielle’s knock was softer, less pounding, and she wouldn’t knock in the first place. This was her home too.

I dropped back onto my beanbag. I wasn’t in the mood to see or talk to anyone who wasn’t my wife.

The knocking came again, even louder this time. It sounded like someone was trying to beat the entire door down.

Whatever. I didn’t care. The whole building could be on fire and I wouldn’t bother to move. What would be the point? I’d already lost everything that mattered to me.

The pounding on my door stopped, and a second later there was the click of the lock turning.

I could count on one hand the number of people who had a key to my place. Danielle, Sierra, my housekeeper, Maggie, and Miles.

Based on the banging, my money was on my brother, who was just about the last person I wanted to see.

The door opened and closed, followed by the sound of footsteps. A few seconds later Miles appeared in the doorway. I watched him take in the state of the room, from my broken phone on the floor to the beer bottles that littered the coffee table and floor around me and finally to me.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Sleeping on a beanbag chair and surviving off alcohol for more than a week will do that to a person .

“Is there a particular reason you’re drowning yourself in beer while your wife sleeps on her friends’ couches?”

“Which couches?” I couldn’t help asking.

“That’s not really the important part of the equation.”

“Is she okay?” I hated asking him, hated that he knew and I didn’t, but my pride had abandoned me sometime in the past ten days. If Miles wanted me to beg for scraps of information about Danielle, I’d get on my damn knees.

“You’d know if you made an attempt to talk to her.”

“Just answer the question.”

“No, Hayden, she’s not okay. She’s hurting, and you’ve been MIA since you left her crying on the floor.”

“She lied to me,” I whispered.

“News flash, asshole, she lied to all of us, even her brothers.”

“Not to you.”

“Yes, she did.”

“But you knew. She told you she was an angel.”

“No, Kylie told me. I’ve known for more than a year that Danielle and her brothers were angels, but Danielle never said anything to me about it, so I never brought it up. I was waiting for her to be ready to tell me herself. Now I understand why she never was.”

His words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. Danielle never told him. I’d accused her of lying when she told me as much. I’d been so hurt, so stuck in my own head, that I hadn’t considered Miles could have heard it from one of their other friends.

Fuck.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Pretty sure she’s staying at Nate and Sierra’s now. ”

“Now? Where was she before?”

“She was at Kylie’s for about a week. I haven’t seen her since she left for her brother’s.”

“You saw her?”

“Of course I did. She’s my best friend, and I wasn’t going to let her suffer by herself.” His words were sharp as a blade, designed to cut.

And they did.

Each one sliced me open and added to the guilt I was already drowning in.

I reached for the nearest beer bottle, but Miles snatched it away before my fingers could make contact.

“No. Alcohol is not going to fix this for you.”

“Nothing can fix it.” I tipped my head back and let my eyes fall shut.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to give up?”

“What can I do?” I lifted my head to look at him. “She’s a fucking angel . How am I supposed to be good enough for her now?”

“You do realize she was always an angel, right? This isn’t something that just happened to her. If you were good enough two weeks ago, you’re good enough now.”

“I wasn’t good enough then either.”

“And you don’t think that’s up to her to decide? You don’t get to sit there and play the martyr and claim you’re doing all this for her sake.”

“I was just fooling myself into thinking that I could be the husband she needed.”

“And now what? You’re going to sit here and let some other guy claim your girl?”

A growl slipped past my lips before I could stop it .

“That’s what I thought.”

“It doesn’t matter what I do if she doesn’t want me back.” Even I could hear the defeat in my voice.

“Who said she doesn’t want you back?”

“She hasn’t come home. That kind of implies she doesn’t want to see me.”

Miles stared up at the ceiling like he was praying for patience.

“You really are an idiot. First of all, this was your house before she moved in, and she doesn’t think she’s welcome here right now.

Second, this is one of those moments when you’re supposed to fight for her even if she doesn’t want to see you. ”

“I don’t know how.” How do you apologize to the love of your life for being a world-class dick and abandoning her when she begged you to stay?

“You can start by taking a shower—you smell like a brewery. Then you have to decide what you’re willing to do to get her back.”

Anything. I didn’t need to think about it—I’d do fucking anything for that woman. I just wasn’t sure it would be enough.

While Miles cleaned up the empty bottles and pieces of my broken phone in the living room, I took a shower and attempted to make some kind of plan.

Danielle had never cared about material things or big romantic gestures—it was one of the things I loved about her, but it meant I couldn’t use either of those things as an apology.

I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles while water poured over my back.

Memories of the times I’d been in here with Danielle assaulted my mind and made my chest ache.

She should be with me now. Maybe she would be if I hadn’t been such a hotheaded jerk.

I’d promised her she wouldn’t lose me no matter what, and I’d failed to keep that promise at the first obstacle we came across.

Now I had no idea how to prove to her that I was sorry, that I loved her and I’d find a way to do better. A part of me was still tempted to give up, admit defeat. I couldn’t be worthy of Danielle. She deserved better. But she was my wife, and dammit, I wasn’t letting her go without a fight.

“What do I do?” I whispered, feeling just desperate enough to call out to the God I’d once told Danielle I didn’t believe cared about me.

“I know I’ve given you no reason to help me in the past few years, but I’m not asking for me.

I’m asking for her. I hurt her, and I want to make it right.

Even if she never forgives me, I need her to know that she means everything to me, that I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I wasn’t just talking about Danielle anymore. I’d made far more mistakes in my life than walking away from my wife ten days ago. I’d spent years running away from every situation that was hard or painful.

I’d literally run to Europe when I’d learned that Jacqueline’s baby wasn’t mine. I hadn’t even waited around to make sure the baby I’d already fallen halfway in love with was going to be okay and cared for.

I didn’t want Danielle to be the next scar on my heart. I didn’t think I’d survive it this time. Losing her would destroy me.

And then it hit me. I knew what I needed to do. It might get me killed, but so what? She was worth that risk .

When I made it back downstairs, my brother had cleared out all evidence of my pity party, and there was a new phone waiting for me on the coffee table.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do it for you.” His glare implied he’d prefer to be punching me in the face. Couldn’t say I blamed him.

“I can still be grateful. Listen, I know you’re mad at me, but I need you to promise me something.”