Chapter Eight

Derek

I'm utterly miserable without Grace.

It's been less than a week since she went back to living at her own place, and yet I feel like I've gone through decades of desolation without her by my side.

I didn't used to be like this. I've had girlfriends before, but none of them ever phased me like this. Then again, none of them were like Grace. No other being on the planet is. She's truly one of a kind.

And I let her walk out of my life.

I didn't want to. As soon as I saw her leaving, I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her to stay. But how could I? I meant what I said – I don't want her as a prisoner. Her happiness is more important to me than my own could ever be.

I keep thinking back to what I heard her tell my mother. Her cheating fiancé may have been part of the act, but I doubt it. It makes too much sense. Her pain drove her to my nightclub and straight into my arms. Even though I didn't know, it's hard not to feel like I took advantage of her.

The thought of what he put her through lights a fire in my chest. I want to hunt the bastard down and make him pay. How dare he hurt a goddess like Grace? How did he have the gall to throw away the greatest gift a man could receive?

But I'm not sure I'm that much better.

I replay her declaration of love over and over in my mind, desperately searching for clues to whether or not she meant it. She said it with so much conviction… but that didn't make it true. I'd hired her for an acting job, after all. It would be stupid of me to take something she told my mother at face value.

No matter how much I want it to be real.

I've just come back to my cold, empty house when I get a call from a number I don't recognize. I think about ignoring it, but what excuse do I have? It's not like I'm busy.

I answer in the gruffest tone I can muster. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mr. Derek Sawyer?" a businesslike woman's voice asks.

"It is."

"I'm calling from Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Your mother was just admitted after a seizure. She's currently stable and recovering, but our doctors still need to run a few tests to see what caused it. She asked us to give you a call to let you know that she may be staying overnight."

I'm already grabbing my keys and running out the front door. "Give me her room number. I'm on my way."

I hang up as I jump into the driver's seat. Without thinking, my fingers start tapping out a message to Grace. Maybe it's naive of me, but I feel like she'd want to know.

"Mom's in hospital. On my way to check on her. I'll keep you updated."

And with that, I'm zooming off toward the hospital, my heart pounding a mile a minute.

The first thing Mom says when I walk into her room is, "You really didn't have to come all the way down here."

"Of course I did." I sit next to her and take her hand. "How are you feeling? Any word from the doctors yet?"

She shakes her head. "I really am feeling fine now. You should go home. Go be with Grace."

I drop my gaze. "Grace is… out," I say, my throat tight.

"She is?" Mom's tone is casual. "Is she staying at her place right now?"

I gawk up at her. Did I hear that right? "What?"

She chuckles. "Did she really move in already? My goodness. I suppose you are taking it fast."

"But she's my wife. Where else would she live?" I stammer, taken aback, and she just laughs harder.

"Derek, you can stop all that. I know she was never your secret girlfriend. You just met her a few weeks ago, didn't you?"

"I-I didn't…" My weak protest dies in my throat. Instead, I ask, "How long have you known?"

"Oh, I guess right away. You really thought I wouldn't find it strange that you had a girlfriend you never told me about? You're my son, dear. I think I know you a little too well for that."

I lean back in my chair, gob smacked. My mother – my careful, responsible, practical mother – had knowingly watched me marry a stranger and said nothing about it. How could that be? She was hardly a shrinking violet; she spoke her mind loud and proud. There was no way she was happy that I had been trying to trick her.

"And you weren't… upset?" I ask slowly.

She shakes her head. "No. I was a little worried at first, but then I met Grace, and I knew you were making the right choice." She chuckles. "You always did need to do things your own way. I should've known you'd be the same way with love."

"It definitely felt like the right choice." I sigh. "But now I'm not so sure."

Mom folds her hands in her lap. "Do you love her?"

I scrub a hand over my face. "Of course I do, Mom. More than anything in the world. Hell, more than I ever thought possible. But she doesn't feel the same way."

She smiles. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, dear."

Against my better judgment, I feel hope start to swell in my chest. Maybe Grace hasn't fallen for me yet, but that doesn't mean she never will. Maybe I still have time to make this marriage into something real.

The door opens, and in walks a stern-looking man in a white coat who asks me to step outside so they can do their tests. I assure Mom that I'll be waiting before I go out to the hallway. I pull my phone out of my pocket and shoot Grace a quick text. "Mom's okay for now. I'd like to talk soon." I hesitate before I add, "I miss you."

I hit send. A second later, I hear a familiar ding.

I look down the hall and see Grace standing in front of the elevator, looking windswept, worried, and absolutely beautiful.

I run to greet her, and she throws her arms around my neck. "What are you doing here?" I ask, as delighted as I am bewildered.

She steps back, her cheeks pink. "I got your text, and I just had to come. I didn't want you to have to do this alone."

Warmth spreads through my chest. What would I ever do without this wonderful woman? All I can do is stare at her in wonder.

My silence must scare her, because she fixes her gaze on the ground and mumbles, "I'm sorry. I overstepped. I should…"

Her voice falters when I drop to one knee. "What are you doing?" she asks, her voice shaking.

"I'm doing what I should have done in the first place." I take her hand and run the pad of my thumb over the rings on her finger. "I love you, Grace. I've loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. And I want you to be my wife. Not for a contract. Not to make my mother happy. I want this to be real."

Tears well up in her stunning hazel eyes. She presses her other hand to her heart. "Derek…"

My heart is fluttering like a hummingbird. I'm offering my heart, my life, to this woman. And I'll keep offering it again and again.

Tears spill down her cheeks as her face breaks into a brilliant smile. "I'm glad," she says. "Because it's already real."