The Rejected Wife: Chapter 20

‘Are you okay?” Zoey looks at me over her cup of brew. “You don’t look okay.’

‘I’m okay.’ I dip my head to avoid my friend’s scrutiny and take a sip of the chai I ordered. We’re at the Fearless Kitten, our favorite coffee shop in Primrose Hill, run by Zoey’s friend Skylar, where we agreed to meet.

I’m partial to coffee, but she ordered this particular concoction for me. I took a sip and the flavors bounced off my tongue.

English breakfast tea, star anise, cinnamon, nutmeg, topped off with frothed milk, and then, something bitter, which elevates the taste to being electric. ‘Whoa, what is this?’ I glance down into the frothy concoction like I can discern the contents. ‘What did you order me?’

‘A dirty chai tea latte,’ she says in a sly voice.

‘A dirty chai tea latte?’ I take another sip. Yep, it definitely has a sting at the end. A bite which lifts my entire mouth. ‘How is that different from a normal chai tea?’

‘It’s got a dash of espresso,’ she says in a conspiratory tone.

I shoot her a surprised look. ‘A dash of espresso? In my chai tea?’

‘Nice, huh?’

‘That’s the one new thing I learned today.’ I manage a small smile.

She chuckles. ‘I remember, you did that in university, too.’

‘Some habits—’ I shrug.

‘And you still have Post-it notes with inspirational quotes stuck all over your room?’

I shake my head. ‘I’ve restricted it to the surface of my refrigerator.’

She laughs.

‘I’m still the queen of self-help books, while my life is barely held together by dry shampoo and good intentions. Only, I’m in my twenties instead of my late teens.”

“Oh man, I know the feeling. Sometimes, I feel like I’m making the same mistakes over and over again, instead of learning from them.” She toasts me with her cup of chai, then takes another sip. “My way of dealing with it is to have lots of friends.”

“I was…am still amazed at how many people you manage to keep in touch with. As for me? I’m better at having a few friends with whom I have deeper relationships. Not that you don’t,” I hasten to add.

She laughs. “I need to meet people. I thrive on the interaction.”

“It’s what makes you a good editor.”

“Maybe.” She tilts her head. “It’s easier to find perspective on other people’s lives than my own.” She stares at me meaningfully. “This is my way of asking if you want to talk about it. I’m a good listener, as you know.”

“You mean, the part where the daycare I’ve worked at for over two years is about to shut down—and I might lose my job?” I hunch my shoulders, a knot tightening in my chest. “And that I’ve had to report not one, but two child safeguarding cases, where the kids were taken from their families? That was brutal. I know I did the right thing, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Their lives were changed in the most traumatic way imaginable.” I shake my head, voice low. “God, listen to me. I’m complaining. The one thing I swore I’d never do.”

“You’re allowed. Working with children is not something I could do for a living. I’d be too emotionally involved with them to take care of them properly. All credit to you for doing it.” She purses her lips. “Also, it’s your prerogative what you decide is right for you, and whether you want to talk about it or not.”

I know what she’s alluding to. And I do want to talk about it. “You mean, why did I agree to this so-called ‘arranged marriage’ with Knox, only to not go through with it?”

She waves her hand in the air. “I’ve seen shorter engagements. Yours lasted almost a month, so there’s that.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I snort.

She sets her cup on the table, then reaches over and places her hand over mine. “I’m sure you have your reasons for doing this.”

I give her a grateful smile. My friends are always in my corner. Lord knows what I’d have done without them. “You’re sweet and thank you for that. But I’m aware of how it looks from the outside.”

“It doesn’t matter how it looks to the world. You’re the one going through it. As long as it makes sense to you⁠—”

“It was Tor who suggested it.”

“Toren? Your brother?” She frowns.

They’ve never met, because I’ve been on my own since I met Zoey. She and the girls have become my quasi family, in that sense.

“He’s on an ambitious growth path for the Whittington Group of companies. He and Arthur Davenport, the patriarch of the Davenport Group got together and decided they wanted to bury past differences by having a Whittington and a Davenport marry. In return, the Davenports would use their business influence to support the Whittingtons, et cetera, et cetera. Get my drift?”

Her forehead scrunches up. “An arranged marriage seems to be all the fad with these moneyed families.” Then she pauses. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course.” I toss my head. “You don’t have to restrain yourself on my behalf. I might still have Whittington on my passport, but I left my family and all the riches they stand for to pursue my own life when I turned eighteen, as you’re aware.”

Her scowl deepens. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you don’t particularly care for the Whittington name, why did you agree to this arranged marriage?”

“W-e-l-l.” I squirm around in my seat, then take another sip of the fortifying chai tea. “When Tor suggested that I marry a Davenport, of course, I thought he meant Tyler.”

“Tyler Davenport?”

I nod, then proceed to tell her about my almost one-night stand with him, and Serene’s arrival that night, and how he then asked me to leave.

“Shut up.” She stares at me with a what-the-fuck, expression.

I resist the urge to giggle, because unfortunately, this is my life we’re talking about. I’ve lived it, and it wasn’t fun at all. “Told ya, it’s complicated. Especially since I didn’t really sleep with him.”

“What do you mean?” she nearly shrieks.

“I mean, I did everything but sleep with him, actually.”

“Bish, he must be very talented, especially since you’re still thinking of him.” She leans back in her seat. “It’s been, what? Six months since you met Tyler?”

“Almost seven.”

She raises her hands in a I-rest-my-case gesture. “He must have made a hell of an impression on you.”

“Yeah.” I uncross my legs then cross them again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about what happened with him earlier.”

“Ya think?” she drawls.

“In my defense, I couldn’t even think about it without crying, never mind talking about it. It was a lot packed into one night. I’m still unpacking it, to be honest. I know it was even more stressful for Tyler. A part of me understands why he didn’t want me in his life right then. And I did want to get over him. Truly.”

“Then your brother comes along and suggests you marry a Davenport, and you get excited because you think he means Tyler. But he means Knox, so you turn him down, but then you change your mind?”

I blush a little. “I know, it sounds crazy when you put it like that.”

“Not crazy, just”—she hunts around for the right word— “intense.”

“Thanks.” I half-smile. “I figured it would be a good way to put myself in front of Tyler and provoke a reaction, discovering, once and for all, if he had any feelings for me.”

“And did it? Force a reaction?”

“Oh, it was… Interesting.” I chuckle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, first, Knox’s assistant, now wife, made it clear this was unexpected, and she was not happy about it. Meanwhile, I know Tyler was upset about seeing me with Knox. First, he crushed his water goblet in his hand, which did not go by unnoticed, then he marched out of the lunch where our engagement had been announced. After that, I kept expecting him to track me down and demand I break off the engagement, but⁠—”

“He didn’t?”

I shake my head, anger and confusion squeezing my chest. “I could have sworn he seemed like he was on the verge of marching up to Knox and punching him, but he simply left. That was a month ago.”

“And you haven’t heard from him since?”

I shake my head in frustration. “Nope. Nothing. Not a phone call. Or even a text message in the month since.”

“That cad,” she says with feeling.

I shoot her a grateful look. “Of course, I’m not about to approach him and tell him I’m tired of waiting.”

“And are you? Tired of waiting?” She looks at me closely.

“Yes! Of course I am. And I want to say to hell with Tyler Davenport and move on with my life. But”—I look away, then back at her— “I keep thinking of him and Serene and wondering how they’re coping. I shouldn’t care. Not after how much of an asshole he’s been. But something inside of me feels like there’s something unfinished here. I mean, for a few hours, I thought I’d met ‘the one’…” I trail off.

She nods but doesn’t say anything, for which I’m grateful. I’m not expecting her to have any answers, but speaking my mind aloud helps clarify things in my head.

“So, with no reaction forthcoming from Tyler, you broke off the engagement?’

I nod. “No way was I going follow that charade with Knox to its logical conclusion. Especially not when Knox was, clearly, in love with his assistant.”

“June.”

I nod. Knox’s assistant is also known to Zoey, so I’m not surprised she has an inkling of what’s happening. It’s another reason I didn’t want to share all of the gory details. I didn’t want to put Zoey in the position of deciding which friend she wanted to support. But given Knox and June are getting their HEA, and I’m interested in another brother, there’s no conflict of interest in sharing now.

“So, Knox and I decided this engagement wasn’t working out for either of us. We agreed to break it off.”

“You did the right thing. You shouldn’t marry someone you don’t love.”

“Agreed. Which is why I’m confused that Tyler didn’t react the way I thought he would. The man’s possessive. I know that from the time I spent with him. But maybe I misjudged him. Maybe the emotions are one-sided.”

Zoey opens her mouth, then hesitates.

“What?”

“Look, I’m not defending the guy. I think he’s acted badly with you. The least he could have done was explain his actions fully, which, from what you’ve said, he didn’t. But—” She seems to choose her words carefully. “But, and this is not an excuse, by all accounts, he’s now a single dad, and a really good one. Perhaps he’s struggling with doing his best by the little girl. Perhaps he’s unsure what it means to bring a woman into the mix? Perhaps he does have feelings for you, but he’s not sure now is the time to act on it?”

I tap my fingers on the table. “My sense is, you’re right. There is a bit of his new status as a parent that’s probably stopping him. And believe me, I work with kids. I understand they come first, but⁠—”

“But you also want him to not shut down the possibility of you being in his life?”

“And of his being in mine… I’m a nanny; I can deal with having a kid in his life. She must be nearly nineteen months now.” I feel myself soften thinking of Serene. “There’s this pull toward her which I can’t explain.” I rub at my forehead. “It’s another reason I can’t simply just let things go.”

She gives me a small smile. “Maybe he felt it wasn’t fair to expect you to take on both of them in the relationship?”

To be fair, I considered and discarded that option. “That would be very noble of him, don’t you think?”

She taps her fingers on the table. “I mean, all of this is supposition. Unless you meet him and talk to him, you won’t understand what happened.”

“Only, my attempt at getting his attention didn’t pay off. In retrospect, getting engaged to Knox was a stupid thing to do. Except for the fact it helped him realize he was in love with someone else, after all. So perhaps something good came of it.” I shrug.

Understanding filters into her eyes. Once again, she doesn’t interrupt my train of thought, for which I’m grateful.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

I glance down at the dessert she ordered and which I’ve ignored so far. It looks enticing. I take a bite of the cake. ‘Mmm, this is heavenly. What does Skylar call it?”

“C!itasaurus, complete with the exclamation point, instead of an ‘l,’ so people can take a photo and tag the shop without begin dinged.”

I chuckle. “It’s genius to have a coffee shop inspired by Booktok. I saw the notice for the book club meetings held here. You go to them, don’t you?”

‘I do. And don’t change the topic, Bish.’ She waves a finger under my nose. ‘You’re not over this guy. Hell, you’re not even one-fourth of the way to forgetting him.’

“Tell me about it.” I discard my fork and pick up the delectable dessert with my fingers, then take a huge mouthful. ‘Oh, my God,’ I moan as the juicy, moist morsel melts on my tongue. I chew, swallow, and all but stop my eyes from rolling back. ‘You’ve got to tell Skylar that her desserts are delish.’

When she doesn’t answer, I look up to find she’s staring past me with a funny look on her face.

“What?” The hair on the back of my neck rises. I’m not surprised when she says, “Don’t look now, but Tyler Davenport just walked in.”

I begin to turn, but she shakes her head. “No, don’t do that.”

I slowly lower the half-eaten slab of cake to its plate, then wipe my fingers on a tissue. “What’s he doing now?”

“He’s heading for the counter. He’s ordering something. Now, he’s joking and laughing with the woman behind the counter.”

Some emotion I’m not going to name squeezes my chest. What do I care if he’s laughing with some woman?

“Is he flirting with her?” As soon as the words are out, I regret them. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t care if he is.”

“Actually, it’s her who’s flirting with him. Not the other way around.”

“What a bish.” I toss my head. “Anyway, I don’t care.”

“Guess he hasn’t seen you yet.” She uses her spoon to scoop up some of the cake and eats it. Her gesture is casual. Meanwhile, she keeps a running commentary. “He’s looking at his phone. Now his watch. Now he’s got his coffee to go. Now he’s turning— Oh no.”

“What?” I ask, panicked. “What’s happening?” A shiver grips me.

It’s with a dawning sense of the inevitable I hear her say, “He saw you.” Her gaze widens. “He went all still. And he’s staring at the back of your head.” She nods. “He seems to be coming to a decision.”

“Don’t tell me he’s coming this way.” I curl my fingers into fists.

“He’s coming this way,” she confirms.

“Oh, no. No. No.” I look around wildly. “I think I’m going to leave.” I begin to rise.

“Thought you wanted to talk to him and ask him why he asked you to leave abruptly.”

“I did.” I sink down. Not a coward. I’m not a coward. “It just seems better as a concept than when I’ve really been given an opportunity to do so,” I confess.

Chin up. Man up. Or woman up. You can do this. What are the chances he ends up at the same coffee shop as me, huh? But he’s here. So am I. Guess this is my chance to find out how it feels to talk to him face-to-face.

I’m expecting him, but it’s still a physical shock to my system when he steps up to stand at our table. “Priscilla, what a surprise.”