Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

Being a billionaire's wife has its perks.

Just like our wedding, Olivia has managed to plan, arrange, and execute a full-scale celebration, only this time, it isn't a small, intimate wedding. Over five hundred guests have been invited. String lights run the length of the long driveway. They run in rows over the expanse of the backyard facing the ocean. It's the third time I've been to this house, and I have yet to see it this lively. This bright.

Hundreds of tables are set across the yard covered in white linens. They blow with the warm summer breeze coming off the ocean beside us. The sound of the waves crashing against the large, jagged rocks below the cliff are muted by the music playing through the outdoor speakers. Caterers and wait staff circle the tables, offering our guests appetizers and drinks. I'm standing on the balcony overlooking the entire yard.

My simple black gown blows in the breeze, the slit parting over my thigh. I've noticed this style of dress is Lennon's favorite. Maybe because it reminds him of my wedding dress. Or it could be the easy access, knowing I never wear any underwear when I know I'm going to be around him.

Two large hands meet my waist. They slide around to my front until his arms are wrapped around me, tugging me back against his chest. His mouth meets the hollow shell of my ear. I melt into him as my heart flutters.

"Don't you think we should greet our guests?" His deep, velvety voice reaches the space between my legs. "We've already kept them waiting long enough."

"We should," I breathe out, my eyes scanning the sea of people below. "I was just admiring the view."

I'm not being entirely truthful. I'm waiting for Roe. I'm expecting her to pop up somewhere in the crowd wearing her favorite red dress, with Steven on her arm. I have yet to see her and wondered if she'd show up at all. It's been a few months since she started her treatments, and I've asked her time and time again when her surgery has been scheduled, but she's reassured me they haven't told her yet. Worry and fear has embedded itself in my bones. As the days pass with ever increasing silence from Roe, the more worried I feel. But I'm at a standstill, caught between wishing I could do more and wondering if I'm overanalyzing. I can only help Roe as much as she's willing to receive it. I've tried. I've offered to stay with her, but she's always told me she has Steven there for the physical support. She needs me for the emotional. The distance she's placed between us has only grown over the past several weeks. Torn and hurt, I'm shocked our relationship has taken this turn. We've always been close. I used to think sharing the same birthday, two years apart, was a coincidence, but as we grew older, I think it was meant to be. I think the stars aligned and we forged a bond that went deeper than sisterhood.

Now, it's as if all of it has deteriorated. Instead of her diagnosis bringing us closer, we've grown apart.

I hate it.

Lennon tightens his arms around me. I cross my arms, placing both of them over his, biting back the tears building.

He towers over me, bent low enough to keep his mouth near the hollow of my ear. "This was my mother's house."

I hold my breath, keeping my focus straight forward. He's talking about his mother. I anxiously wait, blinking away the need to cry. I know Lennon has sensed something off with me, and maybe now he's feeling like him opening up to me will help me open up to him. I want to. My heart is aching to be free of this burden I carry, clawing and digging with its talon, begging to be free.

"It was?" I ask around the lump of emotion caught in my throat.

"Yes," his voice deepens. "My mother didn't gain her wealth from my father. My grandmother was a fashion designer, and my grandfather was a renowned architect in Boston. They built this house after they got married, and this is where my mother was born. After my grandparents died, they left this house to my mother. But when she met my father, he convinced her to have his name added to the deed as well. After years of putting up with my father's affairs and drug use, they separated, and my mother moved back here. But even though they were separated, she remained married to my dad. She spent the last years of her life here going through her chemotherapy treatments. She had staff here, but otherwise, she was alone. Jude and I were drowning in schoolwork and doing whatever we could to please our father, so we didn't come out here as often as we wished we would have."

I spin around in Lennon's arms. He looks down at me with tears lining his dark lashes. One slips, spilling down his cheek when I reach up to cup his face. My hands mold to his sharp jawline, the scruff lining his jaw pricking my skin.

His bottom lip quivers. "My mother was here, at this house when she'd collapsed. She was alone for hours before someone finally found her. It's why she'd lost all brain activity when she was brought to the hospital. Her brain was starving for oxygen for far too long. After she died, I hadn't been able to bring myself to come here. Or stay here. Until my father, in his own sick twisted way, arranged for his funeral to be held here. In her house."

"Oh, Lennon…" Words fail me. I don't think there's anything I can say in this moment. All I can do is feel and let my husband know I'm here for him.

"I needed you to know," he says, running his thumb across the bottom of my plum-stained lip. "I needed you to know so you could see me. You could see all the pieces of me that are broken and ugly. Every facet at every angle. The darkest parts of my soul that I keep hidden from the world behind an even uglier mask. I needed you to know that was the reason I didn't want to stay here the night of our wedding. I wasn't ready to face my demons just then, but I am now." He wraps both my hands around my full cheeks and looks me in the eye. "I need to tell you something."

I swallow hard, inhaling a shaky breath. His blue eyes cloud over, a storm of emotion swirling inside them.

"I know you're keeping something from me." His words filter through the night air between us. "I have no clue what it is, but I see the sadness you hold in your eyes. This burden you carry with you all day, every day. I still don't know your reason for agreeing to marry me. I want to believe it has something to do with the way you feel about me, because I don't think your feelings for me are new. I think, just like me, you've kept them suppressed, living out your daily life, thinking you don't deserve to be happy. But you do, Laurel. Now, I'm not sure if that's the case or if there's another reason, but I want you to know I'm here whenever you're ready to tell me." He lowers his hand and wraps it around mine, pulling them to his chest. He slides it under the opening of his black button-down shirt, gently pressing my palm over the Beatles quote tattoo. Concern and worry are etched into the three lines creasing his forehead. His dark eyebrows knit, pulling between his gorgeous eyes. "You have my ear and my heart."

"Lennon…" My bottom lip quivers. "I want to tell you but…" A sob escapes my chest. He's pried open the windows I've forcibly kept shut. The secret I've been holding is screaming to be free. But a flash of red coming from below stops the words from leaving my mouth.

Roe is here. She glides slowly and smoothly between the crowd. Her skin is pale in the golden hue of the string lights hanging above. My heart skips a beat and then stops.

Lennon's fingers hook under my chin, tugging me back to face him and look me in the eye. "I love you, sweet nothings."

My mouth pops open. It's everything I ever dreamed of hearing Lennon say. He loves me. I want to tell him I love him, too. The words rest at the tip of my tongue, eagerly waiting for their chance to leave. Because the truth is hanging between us, staring me straight in the face. I do love Lennon. I've always loved him.

The words almost leave my mouth when he places his finger over my lips. "You don't have to say anything back right now. Trust me, I'm not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know, so whenever it is that you're ready to share what's going on, I'll be here." He cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him, then crashes my lips to his, tasting me before slowly pulling away. When I open my eyes again, his blue eyes are all I see. "I'll be downstairs, waiting for you. Come down when you're ready." He kisses me on the cheek before turning on the heel of his black shoe. He shoves his hands in his pockets and glances over his shoulder one more time before disappearing through the open French doors and down the elegant grand staircase on the far end of the hall.

Once he's no longer in sight, I cover my mouth, muffling my cries. My heart is bursting with love for Lennon. I wanted nothing more than to tell him I love him back, but I know he's right. I can't be honest about my love for him when I can't be honest in sharing all the pieces of me. Like he was with me just now. Here I was thinking he was the one hiding half of himself in the shadows. But it's me. I'm the one turning half my back to him.

I stand alone on the balcony and look around with watery eyes. My vision blurs as I take in the exterior of the house. Lennon's mom was here. This was her home. I can see how this was her favorite place. It's beautiful and peaceful. I place my arm over my stomach and bend over in a sob. My shoulders quake, and I hate that I'm feeling this way right now. At a party thrown to celebrate and honor mine and Lennon's marriage. Even if I married him to secure funds to help my sister with her cancer treatments.

The truth is I love Lennon.

I've loved him ever since I was nineteen.

I lower my shaking hand and stare at the ring on my finger. The large diamond flickers under the golden lights, and the barbed wire wrapped around my heart tightens. I look over my shoulder and off the balcony. Lennon is standing in a circle, talking to other men dressed in black suits and black ties. They all look the same. Except none of them aside from Lennon keep lifting their gaze up to where I'm standing on the balcony every five seconds. I catch Roe slowly walking toward the house, craning her neck side to side as if she's looking for someone. She pauses as she passes one of the small circular tables on the outskirts of the crowd. She grips the edge and wraps her arm around her middle as if she's going to be sick. I search for Steven in the groups of guests closest to her, but I don't see him.

I gasp and frantically wipe at my cheeks. Sniffing, I quickly leave the balcony. I allow my feet to carry me without much thought to the speed I'm walking. I'm wearing six-inch stilettos, which aren't exactly the best for running. Nearly having broken my ankle ten times by the time I make it to the top of the grand staircase, I place my hand on the marble railing to steady myself. I lift the bottom of my dress and take one step before stopping dead in my tracks at the sight of the person waiting for me at the bottom.

I narrow my eyes, unsure if I'm truly seeing him or did I suddenly step into a dream?

Oxygen is greedily stolen from my lungs when I hear his voice for the first time in years.

"Beautiful house you have here." His voice is like poison. "I guess congratulations are in order, Mrs. Harding."