23. Jaclyn

Chapter 23

Jaclyn

A lex and I sleep in, missing his morning run before the sun comes up. His discipline for it still baffles me. As I drink my coffee and watch him jog down the beach away from the villa, it clicks why he does it—this time is just for him. It's quiet, except for the waves crashing or occasional bird. I soak in the serenity that's a stark contrast from Washington. The stress of the wedding and everything that followed melts away as I sit out here, enjoying the cool ocean breeze whipping around me.

With the gala rapidly approaching, I open my laptop, checking and double checking the details. Everything seems to be in order, except for the bachelor auction—we need two more. The gala is still a few weeks away; plenty of time to find a couple of eligible men of the right caliber. Chris typically participated, even when we were engaged. "It's for charity," I'd remind myself each year, only for him to come back from his ‘date' liquored up, with lipstick on his collar. Thankfully, my dry cleaner assumed it was mine, despite my never wearing those shades of lip color in my life. Then again, he didn't need a gala auction to come home with the excuse that his mother hugged him earlier.

After spending an hour agonizing over the event and texting Ileah as mid-work procrastination, I head inside to make myself a third cup of coffee. It's been ages since I've had to prepare my own that didn't include pods, and I take pleasure in filling the pot with water, pouring it into the machine, scooping the grounds into the filter, screwing up the brew time, trying again and resetting it…

I'll need to make a point of insisting that I make my own coffee when I get home. Though, the thought of returning to Washington, and spending half the year in Florida, fills me with dread.

The smell of freshly brewed goodness fills the small kitchen, and as I'm pouring the coffee into my mug, the sliding door opens. "That was fast. Would you like a cup?" Topping my coffee with vanilla creamer, I hum as Alex kisses my shoulder and snakes his arm around me, pulling me against his soft chest.

Soft chest?

No.

"I'd love one, wife ." The dark voice sends a chill down my limbs, and all the air leaves my lungs. My heart is stuck in my damn throat .

"Well, husband , would you like cream and sugar?" I manage with a shaky breath.

With a feather-light touch, Chris traces a pattern along the side of my neck and chuckles, "Someone's been busy."

"Oh, yeah, curling iron burns. From the wedding," I lie, though he has no room to judge me after what he did. He doesn't get to waltz in here and accuse me of anything. He was the one who broke us. "I was doing a touch up before the ceremony and should've had a professional do it. Ha-have you seen Alex?"

"No, but it's just as well," he replies knowingly. "We have so much to catch up on."

I'm able to step out of his hold to grab a second mug from the overhead cabinet. "Oh, my dearest husband, we definitely do." I finally turn and face the man who ruined my life with a fucking blowjob. If I'm being honest, perhaps he saved me. I married the one man I've wanted for years. A blessing, not a curse. I keep my posture straight and an emotionless expression, even while I'm screaming inside. "I'm happy to see you've recovered quickly."

As I set the cup next to mine, I pour coffee into his, but don't bother with adding sugar or cream. Instead, I take a seat at the small dining table—if he wants to doctor his coffee, he can do it himself.

Following my lead, Chris joins me with the coffee he wouldn't drink in a million years. His steps are slow; the pain is likely getting the best of him. I bring the mug to my lips for a small sip, keeping my eyes on him, and as he's about to take a drink of his, he thinks better of it and sets it down.

His sinister tone from earlier is gone as he says the one thing I expect, "I'm sorry, Jaclyn."

"For?" I ask flatly. This is just like the hospital; it isn't as if I'll get an iota of truth from him.

"I told you, our wedding."

"And what about before the wedding?"

His jaw tics. "Alex told you, didn't he?"

"I'd like to know what happened, from you."

"An accident," he doubles down on his omissions.

I take another sip of my coffee, contemplating my next move. While I've never loved him, it still hurts that he cheated on me for years… including our wedding day, nonetheless. He's been doing it for as long as I can remember, but it's the blatant lack of respect that has scorching heat creeping up my neck. I'd love nothing more than to toss my coffee into his lap.

It's only a matter of time before we'll get a replacement marriage certificate, and I'll be tied to Chris for the rest of our lives. The pressure from my family was the only reason I entertained the idea of being married to Chris in the first place. I never should've allowed Alex to stand in for him.

If I could walk away, I would've years ago .

With a sigh, I groan, "Since you won't give me an honest answer, what now?"

Chris reaches across the table, offering me his hand. I reluctantly take it, curious about what will happen if I play along with whatever he thinks is happening. "You want honesty? I need you, Jackie. We're going to make me the next President Blake."

I inwardly cringe at the nickname, keeping my expression neutral. "And if you lose? What will happen then?"

"I won't lose." A cocky grin appears, and I want to slap it off his smug face. If he went up against Alex, there is no way he would win, but I doubt I could convince him to run against Chris.

The sliding glass door opens, and we both turn to find Alex carrying a bouquet of cornflower blue roses. I suck in a breath—they aren't a generic bouquet of a dozen red roses you'd find at a supermarket. There's also beautiful, lush green filler… and not a hint of lavender in sight . Stunning, in comparison to my wedding flowers. My heart swells as tears threaten to fall, and I quickly blink them away.

Alex closes the door behind him, only taking a single step before he spots Chris. Stopping in his tracks, he glances between Chris and me, his surprised expression quickly shifting to a glower directed at his brother. "Christopher. When did you get here?"

With Chris' attention focused on Alex, I give Alex a quick shake of my head, afraid of what might happen if he shows me the slightest bit of affection. Heeding my warning, he sets the flowers on the kitchen counter and casually leans against it, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

How can he remain so calm when I'm a damn ball of emotion?

Chris doesn't answer Alex's question, not that I would expect the King of Deflection to. "Thank you again for standing in for me on my big day, but I've got it from here," he sneers, squeezing my hand tightly. I hiss, and Alex pushes off the counter.

"He's right," I rush out, and Alex freezes. Keeping my tone even, my heart breaks into a million pieces as I add, "You've been so helpful in ensuring everything went smoothly. I appreciate all that you've done for us." A stray tear escapes my eye, and I refuse to let a second fall—I don't want to give Alex a reason to worry, or Chris the satisfaction.

Chris releases my hand and tosses his wallet on the table with a sly smirk. "Here. You can have your identity back. There's a ticket at the airline counter in your name for a flight that leaves in a few hours. You should be able to make it if you pack quickly."

"Don't you think it would be a bit suspicious to fly to and from Hawaii in twenty-four hours?" Alex grits out.

"I landed yesterday," Chris finally answers Alex's initial question and sits back in his seat, entirely too proud of himself. Has he been spying on us? My eyes widen briefly, but I quickly school my expression. "You can tell them you came to visit your brother—since you missed our wedding—and there's urgent business back home."

"The story is I was in an accident!" Alex's arms fly wide. "How am I supposed to explain traveling so soon?"

"There's a wheelchair in the back of the rental." Chris throws his car keys at Alex, who catches them with ease.

Alex pins Chris with an icy glare. "Are you fucking kidding me? And what about Jaclyn?"

"You mean my wife? " Chris chuckles darkly, and bile rises in my throat at the label. "I'm sure you've done quite enough." He gestures with a nod toward the flowers. "I suppose I don't have to worry much about you two getting close. Her favorite color is red, not blue."

Alex contains his smile, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him. "Is that so? Well, it's a good thing her husband is here to set things straight. Here I was, trying to be a good friend." Calling me his friend stings more than Chris insisting I'm his wife. Alex shrugs and walks toward the bedroom, calling over his shoulder, "Give me ten minutes, and I'll be out of your hair."