By His Vow: Chapter 75
By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance
Time is meant to be a healer but as the days pass, the pain never recedes. In fact, it only gets worse. So does my guilt over keeping this secret. It grows and grows inside me and my concern over the fact Iâve done nothing but a pregnancy test to this point is building.
I thought time out here would help clear my head, but so far, I havenât felt anything close to clarity.
Everything is just as big a mess as it was when I left Chicago, only now, Iâm alone.
A couple of days ago, I finally replied to one of Loriâs emails. I couldnât take it anymore; I needed to talk to someone.
After a few emails back and forth, I finally plucked up the courage to face her and we video-called on my computer.
I cried the entire time.
If I was hoping to convince her that everything was okay, then I failed massively.
I didnât tell her the truth. I wanted to, but she canât be the first person I tell. It has to be Kingston, no matter how painful that experience will be. Facing him will be heartbreaking. Confessing will be agonizing.
She put all my pain down to heartbreak, and she cried right along with me.
I managed to get a little more sleep that night. Unloading at least some of what Iâm feeling on my best friend helped, even if only for a few hours.
I havenât spoken to Miles yet, although I have replied to his emails. They were becoming more and more frantic with worry. He already has enough on his plate; I donât need to be added to his stress. Just another thing to feel guilty about.
Iâm fucking everything up.
My life, obviously, has gone to hell in a handbasket, but Iâm dragging those I love right along with me, and I hate it.
I just want everyone to be happy.
The only one who seems to be rolling with the punches is Kingston.
Lori hasnât seen him; Miles hasnât so much as mentioned his name. So I guess his life is business as usual, as if I never existed.
Finally, the cold spell that was holding part of the country in its clutches seems to have passed, leaving behind beautiful warm spring days that are full of hope for the future.
With a cup of decaf tea in hand and a bag of fresh pastries I picked up on my morning walk, I take myself out to the small courtyard-style garden. It sits at the side of my rental, allowing me to see both the street and the fields behind. Lowering myself into the swing chair that Iâve moved so itâs in the sun, I let out a sigh of contentment as I relax.
There is nothing but the sound of the birds in the trees nearby.
Itâs the perfect haven, but no matter how peaceful it is, the knot thatâs been getting tighter and tighter inside me never relents.
I sip my tea, willing it to release, to give me some kind of relief for even just a few minutes, but it never does.
Instead, all I can think about is him.
Kingston Callahan.
My husband.
Itâs been two weeks since I looked into his eyes and felt his touch, his warmth. While those two weeks feel like a lifetime ago, it also feels like only yesterday. I can still viscerally remember how my entire body lit up when his fingers grazed my skin.
No one else has ever left me with this kind of longing.
Iâve always been able to separate sex from feelings, and I truly thought Iâd be able to do the same with him.
A man I thought I hated.
Really, it shouldnât have been a challenge. But then, I didnât expect to find that hidden side of him. The sweet, romantic side that made me swoon harder than I ever had before.
I shake my head, silently chastising myself for even thinking about him, about the effect he has on me. That isnât what Iâm meant to be using this time for.
Iâm meant to be putting distance between us, planning my future.
But honestly, I have no idea what my life looks like after Kingston.
Right now, it feels bleak. Lifeless. Unfulfilling.
No man should have the power to rip all those things away from me. Itâs not fair.
A single tear trickles from the corner of my eye and I swipe it away angrily.
I glance at my tablet thatâs sitting on the cushion beside me. The urge to call Lori burns through me, but itâs too early. She wonât be up yet.
Miles willâ¦
Before I know what Iâm doing, Iâve logged into my video chat app and my finger is hovering over his contact.
Nerves assault me out of nowhere.
Will he even want to talk to me?
I was a coward, leaving my resignation on his desk and running.
A strong woman would have handed it over and then walked out with her head held high.
Before all of this, I have every confidence that Iâd have done exactly that.
But Iâm struggling to grasp the woman I was before all of this. The one who stuck her middle finger up and said âfuck the worldâ. I hate it. I hate being this fucking broken and vulnerable.
âFuck it,â I mutter before tapping my finger against the screen.
Not a second later does the dial tone fill the air as I wait with my heart in my throat to discover if my big brother will answer or not.
I startle when the screen freezes, but then the most incredible thing happens.
Milesâs sleepy face fills the screen.
His hair is a wild mess, sticking up in all directions. His eyes are barely open and surrounded by dark, swollen circles, and there is a thick pillow crease in his cheek. He looks exhausted, confused, but kinda cute, in an annoying big brother way.
âTate,â he rasps. âFuck. Are you okay?â He pushes himself up, letting the sheets fall from his body.
âEw, dude. Put it away,â I tease when his toned torso comes into view.
I immediately feel better being able to tease him.
âYouâre just jealous because itâs hotter than anyone youâve ever been with.â
âDangerous territory, Miles,â I warn.
âShit, yeah. I need coffee.â He glances to the side and balks. âDo you know what time it is here?â
âIâm sorry, I can go. I justâ ââ
âNo, no,â he says, propping himself up against his headboard and resting his cell on his knees. âIâm here. How are you?â he asks a little hesitantly.
âYeah,â I sigh. âYou know. Processing, I guess.â
He stares at me. Really stares at me. It makes me want to recoil and hide.
âYou look good,â he says, forcing a bitter laugh to spill from my lips.
âI donât, but thanks for the confidence boost, Bro.â
âNo, I mean it. I think the English countryside is doing you some good.â
Still unconvinced by his assessment, I change the subject, although not to anything less painful.
âTheyâve sold the cottage.â
âShit,â Miles hisses, dragging his hand down his face. âI know, Tate. Iâm so fucking sorry. As soon as KC got those papers, everything justâ ââ
âItâs okay,â I lie. âI knew what I was doing when I instructed Richard to initiate our divorce. Itâs the right thing to do.â
His expression turns sad, reverent even.
âMiles,â I warn. âDo not tell me that youâre going to argue about this. You hated the idea of us being together.â
âYeah,â he agrees. âI did hate it. But thenâ¦I dunno,â he says with a shrug. âI saw the two of you together and I guess it all just kinda made sense.â
A laugh full of disbelief and amazement bubbles up.
âYouâre kidding, right?â
âNo,â Miles says firmly. âI saw it, Tate. You really liked him.â
Tears burn my eyes as the cold hard truth in his words slams into me.
âMiles, please. Donât do this. Talk to me aboutâ ââ
âWork?â he asks with wide eyes, already predicting that Iâm not going to want to go there either.
âShit,â I mutter. âIâm sorry.â Iâve already said it in the email, but itâs not enough. Iâm not sure sorry will ever be enough for the way I left.
âI know you are, T. Itâs okay. I understand.â
âIs everythingâ¦going okay?â I donât want to know, but also, I do. Warner Group is Milesâs entire life now, and I want to know how heâs doing, how heâs coping.
âItâs⦠going,â he says, his chest decompressing as all the air rushes from his lungs. âItâs fucking hard, T. I knew it would be, but fuck. Letting people go is really fucking hard. Every day something is changing; itâs hard to keep track of everything.â
âItâll be worth it,â I promise him.
âI wish I had you beside me.â
âYouâve got King, you donât need me.â
âDonât we?â
We.
Fuck, if that one word doesnât slice my chest clean open.
âMiles,â I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.
âSorry, but itâs true. Iâm not the only one who needs you.â
Itâs the first bit of evidence that maybe King isnât as okay with all of this as I assumed he was. But while I might have thought that hearing he was suffering too would help me, it really fucking doesnât.
I donât want to hurt him.
I donât want to hurt either of us, but I feel like Iâm bleeding out right here on the swing seat.
âI-I canât hear this, Miles.â
âWhat happened, Tate?â
I shake my head, closing my eyes and trapping the truth behind my lips.
âIt all just got too much. Dad, King, the wedding, work. Everything justâ ââ
His eyes narrow, making me wish I could put a barrier up between us so he canât see the truth playing out in my eyes.
âItâs more than that. My little sister can cope with more than whatâs been thrown at her recently. It takes a hell of a lot more than that to break her.â
Emotion bubbles up faster than I can control.
âShit. No. Donât cry,â he soothes.
âIâm sorry. I justâ¦I canât keep it up anymore,â I confess weakly.
âI wish I was there,â he says sadly. âI hate that youâre alone.â
Steeling myself, I wipe my eyes and hold his through the screen. âIâm okay. I need to be alone right now.â
âBut you donât have to be,â he says, detecting my lie the second it falls from my lips.
Silence falls between us. Itâs not uncomfortable, but the unanswered questions lingering in the air between us ensure I donât fully relax.
âIs there anything any of us can do to change your mind?â
âAbout King or work?â
âBoth, either. Anything. I miss you.â
I shrug. âI donât know what I want or where I belong right now.â
âHere, Tate. You belong here. You always have.â
A sob erupts. I hate how lost my big brother looks.
I want to be there for him. I do. But I canât. Itâs not my place.
Although, what I just said is true. I have no idea where my place actually is.
I thought it was here. But something is missing.
Miles yawns and guilt rushes through me that Iâm stopping him from sleeping when he so clearly needs it.
âI should let you go.â
âNo, itâs okay. I donât need to be at the office for a few hours.â
âThen you need to sleep. Iâll call you again at a more sensible time.â
He stares at me.
âI promise. I might not be there, but Iâm still here, Miles. If you need me, no matter what itâs for, Iâm here.â The words fall a little flat considering that I ran from him only two weeks ago with no warning or any way to really contact me, but I lay them out regardless.
âI know. I love you, T.â
âI love you too, big brother.â
âIâll see you soon, yeah?â he says with more hope glittering in his eyes than I think he should have.
Can I go back to Chicago anytime soon? Iâm not sure.
But then, do I want to stay here? No, Iâm not certain I want that either.
The cottage has already been sold.
I did this. I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.
The second we hang up, coldness rushes through me quickly followed by a wave of homesickness so strong, I think for a second that I might actually vomit.
Abandoning my tablet, I push to my feet and walk into the cottage with my now cold cup of tea.
After using the bathroom and giving myself a talking-to in an attempt to get my head straight, I make myself a fresh drink and head back outside. Iâm halfway to the swing seat when I stop dead on the spot.
In the middle of the small outside table is a massive bunch of flowers.
No. Not just flowers.
The exact same ones that were in my wedding bouquet.
Oh my god.
He came.