She’d been stupid to hope that her fairy tale would end happily ever after. They were from different worlds. What did a sophisticated mogul want with a blue-collar girl who liked pizza and beer and quiet evenings at home? Gia had always thought of Jason as her gorgeous prince. His demeanor might be a little sharp and definitely Dominant, but he had so much to give besides money.
Sadly, no matter how much she loved him and always would, they would never have a happy ending.
“I wanted to talk to you, and you didn’t leave me any choice.” Anger sharpened his tone.
Gia tried not to wince. She hated disappointing him. “You’re right, and I fully accept that responsibility.”
He didn’t say anything for an uncomfortable minute, just stared expectantly. “Then would you care to explain why my own wife ceased speaking to me?”
The explanation brought up so many painful memories, but he deserved to understand. “I was going through a lot and—”
“I would have been there for you, but you cut me off at the balls. I couldn’t help you since you didn’t tell me what the fuck was going on.”
“My life changed completely, and you didn’t sign up for all that. I didn’t think it was fair to drag you through my muck. We’d been married for, like, five minutes, so—”
“Five minutes or five decades, we were still married. My number one job was to give you what you needed, and you didn’t give me the chance.”
She felt his rage thick in the air between them, sizzling across her skin, pulling at her chest. Gia had to fight not to plead with him, to point out that he’d made mistakes, too.
“You’re right. Let me explain.” She paused, bracing herself to relive the last terrible year. “My sister-in-law, Mila, had given birth to my niece, Bella, just a month before Tony was killed. She was already showing signs of postpartum depression, but the evening after the funeral, she tried to commit suicide by shooting herself in the heart with his gun. Another inch to the right and she’d be dead.”
He sat back, his expression shocked before he softened. “I’m sorry. Is she all right now?”
“Better. We covered up her attempted suicide so that she wouldn’t lose the kids. She still struggles with depression, so I live with them and try to provide stability. I have since last December.”
“I wish you had told me all this.”
“I didn’t because there was nothing you could have done. You would only have driven yourself crazy trying.” His lips tightened, and Gia prayed he would understand. “I had two children under the age of three in my care. My nephew didn’t understand why his dad was suddenly gone and his mom wasn’t the same. My parents were too grief stricken to handle the demands of two little kids, and my mom isn’t as mobile as she used to be. I had to handle everything while still holding down my job. Thank God for daycare. But I needed another pair of hands and I didn’t expect you to provide them.”
“Why not? You were overwhelmed, and I would have helped you.”
“How? I didn’t picture you changing diapers and warming bottles for two a.m. feedings.”
His expression went from remote to downright chilly. “What had I ever done to make you believe that I’d leave you to deal with everything alone?”
Nothing. Maybe it was unfair, but his playboy image hadn’t given her the idea that he was prepared to cope with kids. The one time she’d been to Jason’s condo before their marriage, she’d been struck by how spotless—and cold—the place looked. Black, chrome, glass…everything that would show fingerprints. Floating stairs a child could easily tumble down. Walls of windows with a balcony that a curious toddler might be able to scale and fall twenty-four stories to his death. Unfair, perhaps, to judge Jason’s ability to take care of children by his condo, but in her mind it had been an indication of his lack of readiness.
“Have you ever even held a baby?” she challenged.
“I could have learned.”
True. He was brilliant, and helpless was the last word she’d ever use to describe him.
“Or I could have hired someone qualified to help you. I might not have any experience with kids, but I’ve got a fortune.”
Gia knew that. She’d even thought of asking him for monetary help at the time, but… “I didn’t expect you to take on my family crisis. It wasn’t your responsibility.”
His mouth tightened. “You are my responsibility. As your husband, your problems are my problems. Instead of giving them to me, you shut me out and shouldered everything yourself. Stubborn, independent…” He clenched his jaw. “You’re making my palm itch.”
She hadn’t allowed herself to think about how much she’d missed his discipline, his touch. Now, her womb clenched. Her clit throbbed. Her heart ached.
“Who’s been taking care of you?” he demanded. “The bags under your eyes suggest you never sleep through the night any more. Your loose clothing tells me you’ve dropped fifteen pounds you didn’t have to lose. Your hair has grown at least three inches, as if you haven’t had time to cut it. You have a broken fingernail and a shoe that needs resoling. I’m going to guess your pedicure is months old, as is the wax job on your pussy.”
Gia gasped. Jason had always been observant, but his attention to her every detail left her speechless.
He leaned closer, intent. “Stop acting as if I don’t know you. I see you. Just like I see that no one has given a shit about you in the last year as I would have.”
She couldn’t refute him. God knew she’d been horrifically lonely. She’d missed Jason so damn much that sometimes the pangs had been every bit as wracking as the physical ache of withdrawal.
“A million times, I stared at my phone, needing so badly to hear your voice.” She’d yearned for his steadiness and calm control to soothe her.
“But you didn’t,” he bit out.
“Between work and caring for the children, I didn’t have anything left to give. I knew that wasn’t fair to you. I couldn’t take without giving back. Besides…” How did she put this into words that he’d understand? “Some nights, I’d rock Bella to sleep, tuck Tony Jr. in, then spend half the night trying to reach Mila, but she’d just lie pitifully on a mountain of pillows in her bed and stare out the window as if her world had fallen apart, refusing to speak. Guilt crushed me. Why should I have what my heart desired when everyone around me was suffering so much?”
“You felt guilty for wanting to be happy?”
“That’s part of it. The other part…” She teared up. “What if I hadn’t been in Vegas with you that night? I probably would have heard about the shoot out sooner. He called for backup.”
“You weren’t on duty that night.”
“But maybe I could have gotten there—”
“That’s a lot of ‘what ifs’ and ‘mights,’ and you’ll never know the answer. Stop beating yourself up for failing to prevent what you couldn’t foresee.”
“I’ve told myself that logically. But I can’t seem to get past the feeling that I let Tony, Mila, my parents, and the kids down.” Gia pressed her lips together to hold tears at bay. After nearly a year, she’d hoped the grief would abate, but she still felt her brother’s absence every single day.
On the other hand, she’d be lying if she said that missing Jason hadn’t compounded her sorrow.
Her husband reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “You’ve endured a lot this year. If you thought you were saving me, you thought wrong. I would have been there for you. We would have faced it together.”
His tender, emphatic words nearly undid her. Tears stung her eyes.
All these months, she’d felt horrible about cutting him from her life, but tried to tell herself she’d done it for his own good. Now… Had she done him a terrible disservice? After all, he’d always seen to her welfare. On their trip to Vegas, he’d treated her like his queen. Maybe he would have stood beside her and found some way to deal with the kids and the chaos. Maybe.
But Jason had betrayed her, too.
The waiter came by and took their drink orders. For a moment, they perused the menus. Gia wasn’t hungry. In fact, she hadn’t had an appetite all day. Her nerves about this meeting had been eating her up inside. Still, she knew from experience that Jason would insist on feeding her. In the past, he never let her skip a meal. God, she’d missed his exacting care.
By the time she yanked herself from her thoughts, the waiter was setting down their drinks and asking what they’d like to eat. Gia ordered a taco salad, then sipped at her iced tea. Jason frowned and ordered fajitas. After the waiter read back their order, he departed. The sounds around the restaurant nipped at their cocoon, but silence hovered between them.
Gia broke it. “I should have explained everything sooner. I was lost and bottled up. I’m sorry I left you hanging. I was honestly trying to figure out how I could be with you again in some way without my problems swallowing your whole life. Then your phone calls to the brass forced me to ride a desk. After that, I was just furious.”
“You weren’t communicating, and I needed answers. Once I got them, there was no way I was going to let you put yourself in the path of your brother’s killer. I understand you were grieving. You were angry at the world and wanted revenge. You wanted to bring this thug down for your parents and your sense of justice.”
Gia sat back. Sometimes, she wondered if Jason knew her at all. Other times, like now, he understood her so perfectly that he scared her.
“As a husband, I was worried. As your Dom, I was giving you hard boundaries the fastest way I could.”
“You jeopardized my ability to support my family,” she accused.
“I would have taken care of them.” He clipped every word insistently.
“But they’re my responsibility.”
“Don’t start that again. We’ve covered that ground.”
“Fine. You blemished my career.”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I brought your actions to light. You made the choice to go after that scumbag all on your own.”
“Someone has to. And thanks to you, I’m still stuck behind a desk,” she spit, her anger clawing its way up from her belly to her chest.
“You’re still alive,” he countered, sitting back and crossing his arms.
His stare assessed her, his irritation vibrating in the air between them. How could she be so angry with him at the same time she yearned to fall to her knees and obey his every illicit command?
“And Tony will never have justice. A killer is still on the loose. My brother’s children will never really know their father. My parents won’t ever be complete again. My sister-in-law doesn’t say a word, but I know she’s tormented that I haven’t caught Ricky Wayman and made him pay for Tony’s murder.”
Not that Gia had given up. More than once, she’d gone to the thug’s crime-ridden neighborhood alone to seek out Ricky. She didn’t plan to stop until she brought him in. Confessing that to Jason wouldn’t be smart. At this point, she didn’t know exactly what his reaction would be, but she didn’t think it would be pleasant or accepting.
“What if you got yourself killed? How would your parents take that? What would your sister-in-law do without you?” he challenged.
She couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Since I’m in no danger of being on the streets anytime soon, I guess it’s not an issue.”
Jason sent her a hard stare. “You’re safe.”
“I feel useless.”
“I would still make those same phone calls again.” He grabbed his beer and took a long swallow before setting the bottle far too carefully on the table. “What do you want to happen next? With us, I mean.”
Now came the conversation she’d dreaded and feared, but they had to air this out. “I’m assuming you want a divorce.”
She hadn’t been any sort of wife to him, so that seemed logical.
Instead, he just looked pissed off. “You’re assuming?”
“We can’t go on this way.”
“Finally. Something we agree on.” He leaned in again, elbow braced on the table as his stare snared hers. “So I’m going to give you a choice: Spend between now and our anniversary with me—and I mean twenty-four/seven with me, in every fucking way I deem. If the twenty-fourth rolls around and you still want a divorce, file. I won’t fight you. In fact, I’ll not only honor the terms of our prenuptial agreement, but I’ll give you the amount stipulated if we’d remained married five years. If you want a divorce now, I’m filing tomorrow, and you get nothing.” He raised a brow at her. “Decide.”
Gia sucked in a breath at his proposition. “This instant?”
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