The Rejected Wife: Chapter 42

‘That was rude,’ my wife whispers as we head in the direction of our villa.

‘Sinclair and Summer won’t be offended.’ I twine my fingers with hers, and it feels natural. We step onto the path that winds through the gardens and toward our temporary home for the next week.

‘It’s wonderful that Serene trusts them so much.’

‘When I realized I wouldn’t be able to manage on my own and that Serene doesn’t do well with strangers, Summer and Sinclair stepped in, as did the rest of the Seven.’

‘The Seven?’

I chuckle. ‘That’s what they call themselves—friends of mine who met in elementary school and went through some significant challenges that bonded them for life. Edward is one of them. They’re at the heart of our community in Primrose Hill. It’s why I moved there. I now have a support network in place.’

Her forehead is furrowed. “A part of me will always wonder why you didn’t ask me to take on the role of Serene’s nanny the day she arrived on your doorstep. It might have meant that you didn’t have to expose her to so many strangers in her short life.”

I slow my steps and turn to her. ‘Meeting you, then Serene, within the same day overwhelmed me. First, this intense attraction to you, which was a surprise. I was falling for someone I just met, which was totally out of character. I knew we had something special. I knew I had feelings for you, even though you were virtually a stranger. I knew the connection I felt for you was powerful. I was trying to accept it, but before I could come to grips with it, we found Serene on my doorstep.”

I shift my weight from foot to foot.

“Saying my mind was blown doesn’t even come close. It hit me—back-to-back emotional punches. I didn’t stand a chance. I was gutted. Spinning.” I let out a breath and try to smile, but it comes out crooked.

“One day, I was a playboy with nothing more to worry about than how to make my next million and possibly, some easy sex on an upcoming date. In less than twenty-four hours, I met someone who I knew was significant and found out that I was, possibly, a father.”

I roll my shoulders.

“My instinct told me that, even though I didn’t remember who Serene’s mother was, chances were good, the baby was going to be part of my life. I would have to devote myself to being a father. It felt like, in an instant, all the familiar goalposts in my life had collapsed. I felt unmoored. Detached. Incapable of thinking clearly. I needed to do something—anything—to regain a sense of control, some measure of sanity. I couldn’t exactly ask the child to leave and⁠—”

“So instead, you asked me to?” She lowers her chin, hurt flickering in her eyes.

“I knew I had to focus on Serene first. And I wanted you to have the kind of attention you deserved, which I couldn’t give while I tried to make sense of everything else.” I glance off to the side, jaw working. “Even in that confusion, I knew that if you stayed, I would have gladly handed Serene’s care over to you and passed up the chance to be a real father to her.” I drag my fingers through my hair, trying to organize my thoughts. “And I was afraid the connection between us would turn into a situation where I ended up trapping you.”

Her brows draw together. “Trapped? I was a nanny. Helping you take care of her was literally my job. Why would I have felt trapped?”

“Exactly.” I nod. “You were already forming an attachment to Serene. If you’d stayed, I would’ve taken the easy way out and relied on you. I would’ve used your ability to care for her as a crutch.”

She rubs at her temple. “You’ve lost me. How would that be taking advantage of me if it’s something I would’ve enjoyed doing?”

“Don’t you see? I would’ve off-loaded my responsibility and let you take over without even realizing I was doing it. I wouldn’t have used the opportunity to learn how to be a father. I’d have used you—and you wouldn’t even have known.”

She stares at me, frustration building. “So, this wasn’t about me. This was about you worrying you wouldn’t be a real father unless you did it all on your own?”

‘That’s part of it, although you did a much better job of explaining it.’ I chuckle. ‘A part of me felt like I’d been given this chance to step up. After leaving the Marines, I was drifting. With Serene, I had the chance to find a purpose. And that stubborn part of me—the Marine in me—believed I had to do it on my own.”

She chuckles, not unkindly. “If only you’d realized that no one can take care of a child alone. You need all the help you can get. It’s not a cliché when they say it takes a village.”

I bark out a laugh. “I know that now. Back then, I was drowning. My thoughts were a mess. Life as I knew it was slipping through my fingers. Part of me wanted more than anything to ask you to stay. But I knew if you did, my attention would be split, and that didn’t feel right. You deserved my full focus. So did Serene. I felt torn, and I had to prioritize. It had to be Serene.”

“Which I completely understand. Of course you should put your daughter first. But—” She presses her lips together. “You didn’t have to cut me off completely.”

“You’re right. I should have handled it better. But I wasn’t in the right headspace. I had a lot going on and couldn’t ask you to stay when I wasn’t capable of being committed to a relationship with you. And a part of me truly believed I might end up trapping you—tying you to me by making you fall in love with Serene. If I’d kept you around to care for her, and if I continued the relationship, I thought we could have… You might wake up one day and wonder if you were with me for me or, for Serene. You might resent me for springing a ready-made family on you and putting you in the position of being a mother to a child who wasn’t yours.”

She firms her lips, like she doesn’t trust herself to speak.

‘I know. I should have talked to you about it, but I was afraid I might subconsciously, try to convince you to stay.’ I take a step closer, needing her to understand. “I didn’t want you to stay and then end up resenting us for taking your freedom. I needed to face this on my own. Prove I could do it. I thought I had to set you free. I needed time to get my head together. Space to figure things out. That’s why I asked you to leave.”

“Oh, my God, you were thinking like a typical man.” She throws up her hands. “You were feeling hemmed in. You panicked and did the easiest thing possible—you pushed me away. You took away my choice, thinking you knew better.”

Heat suffuses my neck as I realize, she’s right. But I don’t look away. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking straight, at all.”

“You bet your gorgeous tush, you weren’t.” She snorts.

I allow myself a small smile at that. “Damn, I’ve missed your spirit. There have been so many times over the past year when I’d find myself in a particularly difficult situation with Serene and wonder what you’d have done. It’s what got me through.”

She swallows, blinking rapidly, as if overcome by what I’ve told her.

“Asking you to leave was a knee-jerk reaction. It was the obvious thing to do; so obvious that my instincts warned me not to. But I ignored them.” I swallow around the ball of regret in my throat. “I was numb. Closed off. Trying to assert some semblance of control over my situation. Little did I know that I was going into parenthood where the default position is a lack of control.”

Her soft brown eyes turn bleak. ‘It was so hard to walk away. You seemed so cold, so uncaring. It was as if nothing we’d talked about mattered anymore. You just wanted me gone, and I couldn’t understand it.’

I cup her cheek. My heart expands until I’m sure it’s going to burst out of my rib cage. ‘I’m sorry; I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I felt like I was unraveling; I was incapable of explaining my thought process. I needed time. But Cilla, you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. The most gorgeous, beautiful, kind-hearted, sexy-as-fuck woman. I knew when I met you, I was not going to escape unscathed. And maybe that’s why I had to send you away that time. The assault of emotions on my senses—between you and my daughter coming into my life the same day—was too much. I see that now.”

So, tell her how you feel. Confess your feelings for her.

What am I waiting for? Why do I not feel ready to confront the depths of my longing for her? How right she feels in my arms. In my life. With my daughter.

I shake my head to clear it of the buzzing thoughts. I have her with me—and for a few hours, at least, we’re alone, and I’m going to make the most of it. I’m going to show her, with my body, how important she is to me, even if I’m unable to use my words to express my feelings for her yet.

I bend and scoop her up in my arms.

She laughs breathlessly. ‘Tyler!’

I laugh and quicken my pace, following the path that winds through the gardens until I reach our villa. The pool backs onto a private beach—just like I asked. I tap the contactless wristband the hotel gave us against the reader, then shoulder the door open and step into the cool, quiet air inside.

The living room of the villa is a seamless blend of comfort and nature. Soaring bamboo ceilings and floor-to-ceiling glass doors let in streams of golden sunlight. At the center is a deep, oversized linen sofa, its soft white cushions made for sinking into. A low teakwood coffee table holds a tray of fresh tropical fruit.

Against one wall is a custom-built, wooden bookshelf that holds a mix of books. Nestled beside it is a handwoven, rattan reading chair, draped with a soft cashmere throw, perfect for getting lost in a story during a lazy afternoon. Next to it is a table.

‘That reading nook is divine,’ she exclaims.

Directly in front of the living room, stretching toward the ocean, is the infinity pool. Beyond it is a private beach which can be accessed via a short, wooden staircase. Wrapping around the back and side of the bungalow is a lush tropical garden providing privacy.

‘Wow,’ she breathes.

I walk toward the floor-to-ceiling doors that open onto the pool. Lowering her until her feet hit the floor, I slide the doors open, and the wall between the inside and the outside disappears. The scent of frangipani blossoms drifts in on the warm breeze. The muted sound of waves in the distance adds to the impression of paradise. The polished teakwood floors are cool beneath my feet, while woven jute rugs add a touch of warmth.

‘This is gorgeous.’ She sighs.

I pull her close, and she leans into my chest.

‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

I kiss the top of her head. ‘I’m glad you like it. How about a dip in the pool?’

I lean back against the side of the infinity pool. The water is just the right temperature. My wife, on the other hand…is smoking hot in the white bikini I bought for her. I reached out to Karma West Sovrano’s team at her atelier. She was one of Europe’s most famous designers, until she passed away three and a half years ago.

Of course, there’s some mystery surrounding her death because Michael, her husband didn’t let anyone see the body. Nor did he hold a funeral. He then whisked away his children to Italy and has since turned recluse. Summer was—and still is—heartbroken. She lost her sister and her sister’s children, all at once.

There have been reports in the media that Karma is still alive, but that’s probably wishful thinking. All the speculation has added to her mystique and contributes to the label’s popularity. Because of my relationship with Summer, my needs were prioritized by the atelier.

I gave them Cilla’s measurements, then told them to deliver everything she’d need for our honeymoon. They delivered it to the plane, and it was delivered to our room without Cilla’s knowledge. She was shocked when I had her open the trunk—which she was convinced had been mistakenly delivered to the wrong room—and she saw all of the goodies inside. When I saw the bikini, I insisted she wear it, and I have to admit, her curvy figure in that bikini puts my most erotic dreams to shame. It also turns up my need to a fever pitch.

She swims slowly toward me. At the last moment, she changes course and heads toward the edge of the pool a few feet away. She leans back and looks at me from under her spiky lashes. ‘You’re staring’ she says in a low voice.

‘You’re beautiful… And a coward.’

‘A coward?’ She scoffs.

‘Come ‘ere.’ I crook my finger at her.

‘Oh no.’ She bites down on her lower lip, and of course, my cock wishes her teeth were digging into a completely different part of my anatomy.

‘Like I said. Coward.’ I tilt my chin up in her direction.

‘No, I’m not.’ She frowns.

‘Then come on over.’ I allow a smirk to curve my lips.

She seems entranced by it, then shakes her head. ‘No, thank you.’

She steps up and out. I watch her squeeze the water from her hair. Her bikini sticks to her body. It’s one of those barely-there bikinis: triangles of fabric held up by insubstantial ties. She’s a wet dream… Literally.

My dick lengthens, and a pulse springs to life in my balls. Fuck. It’s as if my brain has descended to my cock. When I’m with her, I retreat to the most basic of my instincts. I haul myself up onto the ledge of the pool. When I straighten, the water pours from me and splashes to the ground.

She looks at me over her shoulder. Draws her gaze down my chest to where my cock tents my swimming trunks. Her cheeks turn pink, and it’s not just from the sun. I stalk toward her…slowly…slowly.

She lifts her gaze to mine, and whatever intent she sees in them has her drawing in a sharp breath. She slowly lowers her arms, and her thick, auburn hair falls in ropy strands down her back.

I stop when I’m less than a foot away from her by the sun lounger. I pick up the bottle of sunscreen and take another step in her direction. She freezes. Her lips quiver. Wearing an almost transparent bikini, she resembles a pagan sacrifice.

My muscles tense. My nostrils quiver as I draw in a breath, the scent of her mixed with that of chlorine from the pool and the sunscreen lotion. Hunger digs its claws into my belly. And it’s not for food. Her. I must have her.

Something in my stance must make my intentions clear to her, for she straightens and sets off for the villa.