By His Vow: Chapter 59

Unsurprisingly, we’re the last people down for breakfast.

I’m a mess as we walk in, my emotions all over the place, my body tender, my eyes sore from lack of sleep. Having everyone’s eyes turn on me the second Kian helpfully announces our entrance to the huddle of tables waiting for us only makes the war carrying out inside me worse.

“You okay?” Kingston whispers, noticing my hesitation.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I hold my head high and continue walking forward.

“Of course,” I lie, moving toward the empty chairs waiting for us.

I’m confident that I’m hiding how I’m truly feeling—until I meet my best friend’s eyes.

She frowns, the smile on her lips faltering as she reads the truth in my expression.

“You okay?” she mouths, echoing Kingston’s question. Only, when I nod in a pathetic attempt to pacify her, she doesn’t believe it. She knows me better than that.

So does my big brother, who looks at me with a similarly concerned expression.

I don’t meet his eyes. I can’t. Not after what I did with his best friend in our bathroom less than an hour ago.

Can he see the marks around my throat from where Kingston’s fingers were?

My cheeks blaze.

I’m not a prude—I’ll happily wear my sexuality with pride—but I also don’t want my big brother to know everything.

“Would you like a coffee?” a server says, having rushed over with a coffee pot.

“Yes,” I cry, immediately reaching for the mug that’s waiting to be filled with some liquid gold. “Thank you.”

“Sir?” she asks, turning to Kingston.

“No, thank you. I’ll take a green tea.”

Someone scoffs on the other side of the table, and when I look up, I find Kieran mocking Kingston’s morning drink of choice.

I always liked Kieran. It was obvious from a very early age that he was going to be the rebel of the family.

I guess if you’d have made me predict which Callahan brother I might have ended up marrying, I’d have said him.

He’s always been the most easygoing, fun brother. And much like me, he’s put his middle finger up to the things expected of him and followed his own path instead of the one laid out for him.

While I respect Kingston and Kian for everything they’ve achieved, I have a special level of respect for Kieran.

“Right? What kind of monster did I marry?” I mock, happy to turn the attention to my new husband in the hope of surviving this breakfast unscathed.

Or at least that is my intention until Kian announces, “You should know. I assume he’s the one who left those marks on your throat.”

“Kian,” Kingston snaps as Michael’s wife gasps in shock and my mom drops her fork. The knot in my stomach gets even tighter as I focus on my coffee. “Not the time or place.”

Kian doesn’t so much as cower under Kingston’s burning stare. It’s probably not the first time, or the last, that he’ll experience it.

“It was your wedding night,” Kian says simply. “If you can’t indulge then, what’s the point in the wedding at all?”

“Romantic,” Lori scoffs from a few seats down.

Kian shoots her a glare but doesn’t say anything further.

Thankfully, everyone begins to return to their previous conversations as the server comes back to take our orders, but that doesn’t mean I lose the attention of Miles or Lori.

Once we’ve finished, most of our guests begin to bid us farewell and check out of the hotel.

By the time it’s only Kingston’s brothers, Miles and Lori left, I’m exhausted.

There have been many times in my life when I’ve been forced to pull on a mask and pretend that everything is okay. Hell, I used to wear it every time I was in my parents’ house, but it’s been a while since I’ve had to wear it for quite so long.

I’m sure most brides want to drag out every second of their wedding—even those who are lucky enough to be heading off somewhere exotic to celebrate with their new husbands. But all I want to do is go home, crawl into bed, and hide in the dark under the covers for the foreseeable future.

But I can’t.

I don’t get to go home, because it’s no longer where I live.

Home is now Kingston’s fancy penthouse.

Sure, he’s tried to make it nice, and a little less like a billionaire’s bachelor pad. But it’ll always be his home, not mine.

I’ll always be on edge, worried that I’m going to break something or move something I shouldn’t touch.

All I want to do is kick back and relax before the insanity of the week ahead of us begins.

While we know about my father’s wishes where the future of Warner Group is concerned, nothing has been announced yet.

Kingston and Miles decided—rightly or wrongly, I’m not sure—to wait until the wedding was done before they made a public statement about the merger.

I’ve tried to keep to myself at work and encouraged my team to focus on their jobs, but I’m not naive to think that the gossip isn’t rife.

The employees of Warner Group may not predict the merger, but Kingston, Kian, and Michael have spent a lot of time in meetings on the top floor of the building since Dad passed, so it’s obvious that something is happening.

I don’t know the details, and as much as I might want to hope there won’t be huge changes to Warner Group in the coming weeks, months, and years, I fear that might be wishful thinking.

Dad wouldn’t have handed the company over lightly.

I’m sure he put much more thought into that than he did handing me over.

I shake my head, forcing the thoughts out. No good comes from those kinds of thoughts.

There is something bigger at play here than him wanting to hand over his company to his oldest and closest friend. I’d put everything I have on it.

I’m still not interested enough to ask or dig, though.

It’s not my issue, or my problem to try and fix.

My time following my father’s orders now has a timestamp on it. Twelve months from today, I’ll be free, with the only thing I’ve ever wanted in my possession.

I don’t get a chance to talk to Lori or Miles before Kingston and I retreat to our suite to pack up our things. I decide that’s a good thing for now.

The less I’m forced to attempt to vocalize how I’m feeling, the better.

I pack up my things in a daze, and the journey back to Kingston’s apartment is a blur.

He attempts to make conversation with me, but most of his questions go unanswered.

We walk through the front door and find our wedding flowers, and more gifts and cards than I can even comprehend, waiting for us in the living area. Ignoring them, I scoop Griz up from the couch and carry her up to the bedroom with me.

Kingston watches me go without saying a word, although that doesn’t mean I can’t feel the weight of everything he wants to say hanging in the air around us.

The second I’ve closed the door behind me, I press the button to lower the blinds, plunging the room into darkness. I walk blindly toward the bed and climb on with Griz still in my arms.

“Have you been a good girl?” I ask as I lie down with her.

She’s the one part of this place that now feels like home, and I need that right now more than I ever have.

Griz purrs and nuzzles into my neck, letting me know that she missed me as much as I had her.

With her warmth against me, it doesn’t take long before I drift off to sleep. Although, it’s not as peaceful I as would hope for. Instead, it’s full of fanciful images of a future I’m not going to get.

Soft and sweet child’s laughter fills the air as the warmth rushes over my skin. The scents of summer float around me as I sip on a cool drink while staring out over the lush English garden.

Flowers of all varieties and colors fill beds and hanging baskets.

It’s the perfect summer haven.

The sun continues to warm my skin, turning my usually pale complexion, a rich golden color I love.

Footsteps move toward me, and I look over in time to see Kingston emerge from the cottage wearing only a tan pair of shorts. His torso is bare and delicious, sending an entirely different wave of heat through me.

“Everything okay?” I ask. He disappeared a little over thirty minutes ago to take a call from Kian.

“Yeah, nothing he can’t deal with,” he says before ducking down to kiss me.

With the squeals and laughter far enough away, he doesn’t immediately pull back. Instead, his tongue teases the seam of my lips, seeking entry.

The second my mouth opens, he groans, eagerly pushing his tongue past my lips in search of my own. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, angling me exactly as he wants me.

For long, blissful minutes, I lose myself in my husband while our children play happily.

There’s a bark, our pup playing with them before a loud scream brings our kiss to an abrupt end.

We’re both on our feet in a heartbeat and running toward the end of the garden to discover our daughter climbing to her feet, having obviously fallen from the monkey bars of the play set they love.

I hang back as Kingston rushes toward her and sweeps her off her feet, checking her over as if she’s the most precious thing in the world.

“I told her she couldn’t reach,” our boy points out. I glance over, meeting his green eyes and smiling.

“Sometimes we have to make our own mistakes.” Or at least, headstrong girls like us do.

When I wake a few hours later, the images from my dreams continue to linger despite my best attempt at banishing them.

Thinking about a future where Kingston and I are still together and have brought children into the world is as terrifying as it is unrealistic.

My destiny may well be that cottage and being able to watch my kids grow and play in the garden, but it won’t be with him.

A year from now our time will be over, our commitment to each other fulfilled. He’ll continue to focus on building the Callahan and Warner brand and I’ll…well, who knows.

Maybe I will get on a plane and start over in England, or maybe I’ll hang around here for a while longer. I guess only time will tell. But one thing I know for sure is that whatever we do, it won’t be together, no matter how much it hurts my heart to think about it.

“How do you feel about opening an obscene number of wedding presents?” I ask Griz when she looks up at me with her large, dark eyes. “No. I don’t really feel like it either.”

Leaving her in bed, I pad through to the bathroom to clean up before mustering as much courage as I can and heading downstairs.

No sooner have I pulled the door open does my stomach start growling. The scent filling the air is out of this world, and it ensures I take the stairs a little faster than I was anticipating.

‘Oh my god,” I gasp when I find Kingston standing in the middle of his kitchen, surrounded by an array of home-cooked Mexican food.

He spins around at the sound of my voice, his eyes softening the second they land on me.

“Hey, did you sleep well?” he asks.

I shrug one shoulder, unwilling to lie to him, although I have no intention of telling him the reason for my fitful sleep. The fact I remember so vividly is bad enough.

“Well, I hope you’re hungry. I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I made a little bit of everything,” he confesses, and I swear there’s a little shyness in his expression I’ve never seen before.

“It looks amazing. When are the rest of the guests arriving?” I tease.

“Just you and me, baby. Our first night in our home as a married couple.” The smile that follows his words is so genuine and sincere that it makes my heart seize in my chest.

“You don’t need to do that,” I mutter as he pours me a glass of wine.

He pauses and looks back. “You don’t want⁠—”

“Oh no, I do. I meant you don’t need to pretend that the rings on our fingers change anything between us when we’re alone.”

Wine sloshes ungracefully from the bottle as my words hit him before he puts it back on the counter, taking a moment before he turns his focus back to me.

“No, I guess we don’t,” he mutters almost…sadly.

No more words are said between us as we take a seat at the kitchen counter and fill our plates with his incredible food, although the atmosphere between us is anything but relaxed.

Does he…does he want us to play the part of loving husband and wife, even when we’re in private? And if he does, why? He can’t stand me. Why would he want to put that much effort in?