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Eighty-three
“You handled that well,” Joshua says.
A yawn escapes me, I cover my mouth. “You think?”
Bren apologised to every one at the table. Even Wyn. I’m not sure why I told her to apologise to her twin when she was the only person she favoured during her outburst. But I’m glad she did. I rest my head on the table. He laughs. I look dead. Dark circles have become a constant. I haven’t had good sleep in days.
He drums his fingers on a folder on the table. I prop my chin on my palms. “Are you going to call her?”
Mother is in the room she spent the night after the twins birthday party. Joshua insists he’s not sleeping over but he’s not ready to leave. I can do with a hot shower and cuddles with her right now. But yeah.
“I don’t think she will pick.”
The bottle of juice in his hand almost drops, he takes a sip and passes it to me. “Did
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Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Eighty-four
I am scared. No, I’m worried. I think it’s a mix of both. I twist the knob and the door creaks. She’s home.Nervousness tightens my muscles, my steps falter as I push the door to the mansion open. The last time I was here was to cause trouble. Now, I don’t know if peace can reign. If she will allow me into her life.The house is quiet. If her car wasn’t outside, I would assume nobody was home. I take the stairs two at a time. The anxiety returns when I’m in front of our bedroom. We made so many good memories in this room.Sweat rolls down my temple and a lump forms in my chest. What if she doesn’t want to see me?Has she changed her mind about the divorce? We haven’t seen a mediator so technically and legally, we are still a couple. El is my wife and I want her to love me the right way. I want to be the only man for her.On entering, I spot El curled on the couch with a quilt pulled to her
Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Eighty-five
I love love.I love the feeling of knowing I matter to someone as much as they do to me. I love the excitement that rushes through me at the thought of that person. The assurance that they will always be there for me.I hate love.I hate the vulnerability that is considered part of loving. I hate the ache and loneliness that follows when you realise they no longer love you like they did. I hate to have my happiness tied down to one person.Love breaks as much as it heals and I think I am at my breaking point. Maybe El still loves me but she’s doing a great job of masking it. Moving here has improved the girls mood, it’s the reason I’m hanging on.Bren pokes me in the side with her elbow. I groan before she even asks the question.Not again.“Are you and Mummy back together?”If I have to hear this question one more time, I will stuff my ears with wax. Christ. She rolls
Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Eighty-six
Locking the door behind me, I set El gingerly on the bed. I push her shoulders down when she attempts to get up. Her lips part and my head shakes. If talking will ruin the moment, then I will take her silence. “Shh,” I whisper. I capture her lips in a kiss. My tongue parts her lips to explore hers and a throaty moan escapes her. El kisses me back with an urgency I’ve missed, a thrill goes through me and my fingers weave into her hair. Her hands spread on my chest to feel me up and our lips remain locked in a passionate kiss. She tastes like oranges. I nibble her lower lip, feeding my senses with the taste of my woman. She whimpers. I swallow her cries, moans and whispers, causing her to writhe under me. I groan as she caresses my bulge, briefly blinded by the heavy waves of desire that crash over me. I have missed her—us. I have missed this. Our breaths mingle when we come up for air, foreheads meet as we smile at each
Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Eighty-seven
I wake before El. My fingers trace the curve of her lips, she whines in her sleep but stays asleep. I reach for my phone, the alarm bells in my head trip off when I peep the time. Shit. The girls will be fucking late. “El.” I shake her gently. I can’t move with her on top of me and I don’t want to ruin her sleep. I love our position but the girls need to get to school. “Elna. Baby,” I murmur into her hair. She moans. “Wake up.” Her eyes open, she holds my gaze for about five seconds and falls right back to sleep. Chuckling, I lower her to the bed as gently as I can. She doesn’t wake. I pause to observe her, is she fine? She doesn’t sleep this much. I plant a kiss on her forehead. She moans, I push a pillow towards her and my lips spread in a smile when she cuddles it. Good to know I wasn’t the only one who missed cuddling. After throwing on some clothes, I rush downstairs to check on the twins. There’s barely enough time for them to bathe
Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Eighty-eight
Brianna gets off in fifty minutes. Until then, I have no idea what to do with myself. I should return home to my wife but there’s no guarantee I’ll be willing to leave when it’s time to pick Brianna for the meetup. Thinking of the devil, my phone vibrates on my desk. Vincent’s name appears on my screen and a text pops in. He wants to be sure we are still up for today. I mean, I don’t want it but it has to happen. Not for his sake but Brianna’s. She’s aware El isn’t her mother, I think she is because I mentioned it a few times. Elbows propped on the desk, I clasp my hands behind my neck. My eyes water from staring hard at my screen, the words blur and I hit send on the short text before I change my mind. My stomach growls. I haven’t had anything to eat all day. For someone who complained about his wife’s feeding, I am doing a terrible job of taking care of myself. A peek at my wristwatch and my intestines knot. It’s past twelve. I am starving. I ma
Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Eighty-nine
I watch through the window as Brianna takes her first steps without help. She has a hand on the railing and the other stretched out for balance. Her instructor sticks close to her, murmuring what I hope are words of encouragement. They reach one end of the wall and grin at each other, then Brianna resumes.They look up at the same time I enter inside, Brianna waves. I wave back. Hand deep in my pocket, I cross my legs at the ankle and lean on the wall. I give her a thumbs up. She is making so much progress.The hall is like a ballet room with silver railings attached to the white walls for stretching. The duo stop at the end of the room, Brianna turns and I cross the distance. My princess beams at me. I take her hand so she can lean on me for support while her instructor goes to get her Rollator. Her palms are clammy.“Hey.” She looks up. “You did good today.”Her brown eyes remain on my face a minute longer like she do
Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Ninety
Vincent’s message snaps the little restrain I have on my temper. I don’t bother with a reply. Holding his gaze, I place my phone face down so he knows not to send another text. The wanker thinks we are best friends now. Not in this life. I only brought Brianna here. I don’t give a rat ass what he wants to tell me.“Brandon,” he says when my gaze redirects to Brianna. I help her up and my arm slides down her back. He palms his glass of water, his food untouched. No idea why he ordered it. “Please. It’s important.”Brianna tugs on my sleeve, I believe that’s the main reason I pause. I sigh. “What is it, Vincent?”His jittery gaze scrolls over Brianna’s face, he picks his phone and mine pings again. I stare out the window. I can walk out right now and nothing will happen. Brianna groans. I finally pick my phone.Vincent: I’ll only be a minute. It’s important and we need
Mrs Reluctant Billionaire Ninety-one
Brianna insists on using her Rollator to get inside the house. It relieves me because the last thing I need is any form of body contact. Numb, I help her to her room and rush past El but barely get past the twins.“Daddy,” they scream and jump on me, forcing me to stop.El stares at me worriedly but I don’t offer her an explanation. I barely remember hugging and kissing my babies, everything is a blur as El ushers them away.I jog up the stairs to my room and stop in front of the wardrobe. A second, two second, I’m not sure how many seconds pass. Vincent’s confession plays in my head like a broken record and my breath hitches.Oh, God.I grip the door of the wardrobe.I didn’t do it.His words soak my being. It can’t be. The death certificate stated the accident as the cause of death. My hands run through my hair, I should have put my fingers in his mouth th
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