Chapter 20

20

Edward

"The fuck am I doing?" I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Arthur made sure to get me a brand new suit, in the style I favor, and it fits me, too. The bastard thinks of everything. I knot my tie, then swear when it comes out wonky. I untie it, try to knot it again, fail. Anger squeezes my chest. I curl my fingers into fists, and am about to let it fly when I hear a familiar drawl. "The cool emotionless Priest losing his temper? That’s a first."

Sinclair draws abreast and meets my gaze in the reflection. "Need some help?" He nods toward my tie.

When I don’t answer, he steps around between me and the mirror and begins to fasten my tie. "There; all done." He nods in satisfaction.

"Thanks," I murmur.

"Do you remember when I got married?"

"That was what, two years ago?"

"Nearly three." His lips curve. "Remember how nervous I was?"

"I’m not nervous."

"Of course, not," he says in a soothing voice.

"Don’t humor me, Sin."

"I wouldn’t dare, Priest." He raises his hands. "All I’m saying is, it’s natural to feel unnerved. A man doesn’t get married every day."

"I shouldn’t be getting married in the first place." I glance away.

"You deserve to be happy. You deserve a second chance."

Do I? I pivot and walk to the window of Arthur’s manor. No other way to describe it. It’s a ten-bed Victorian home perched on a hill in the center of Hampstead Heath. It has its own private driveway and swimming pool, and underground parking garage. Also, a home theater, a gym, and a den, which is where my half-brothers retired to wait for the ceremony to start. My entire life has turned upside down in the space of a few months. A family who largely hates me, except for Arthur—and he has his own selfish reasons for wanting me to take on the business. A fiancée who I should have never put in this situation. The only blessing is I have the company to focus on. Power and money—the two things ingrained into me as wrong when I was a priest. The two things I crave more than anything else now.

Wait. I can't lie. Now, there's her. She's quickly becoming my new obsession. It doesn’t take rocket science to tell me I was wrong to offer her a job, in the first place. I wanted to keep her close, in the hope of controlling the damage she could do to my focus; but this time, I calculated wrong. I should have walked away from her. Instead, I invited her into my life, and she accepted. And I'm going to pay the price for it?—

No. Once we’re married, I can put distance between us, and everything can go back to being the same.

"You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened," Sinclair’s voice sounds over my shoulder.

"Is that your expert opinion?" I scoff.

"When I met Summer, I was a heartless bastard." He stands abreast.

"Still are," I point out.

He ignores my comment and nods toward the city. "My only goal then was to amass as much money and power as I could, hoping to fill that void inside of me."

His words are so close to my earlier thoughts, I stiffen.

"Then, Summer swept in, with her pink hair and her optimistic nature, no matter that she’d been dealt some tough cards in life. She showed me it's okay to not always be uber-focused on my goals. She made me realize there's more to life than chasing the next billion. The thrill of seeing her smile is more satisfying than the next merger, more exciting than another acquisition. She's the only person who knows the truth about Max."

"Max, your Whippet?" I shoot him a sideways glance. "What about him?"

His mouth kicks up. "That’s between us."

I shuffle my feet. A sliver of tension coils in my belly. I’m not jealous of his happiness. I’m not envious about his contentment. Or his absolute certainty that Summer is his soulmate. I had mine and I lost her. And Belle?

She deserves better than a man who’ll never be able to love her the way she should be loved. Only, I’m not selfless enough to let her go. I can’t have her. But I will not let anyone else have her, either. Does that make me a selfish bastard? I never claimed otherwise. I have more in common with my grandfather than he’ll ever know.

"The reason I’m going all emo on you is because you need to pull your head out of your arse and recognize the good thing you have here."

"I’m not cut out for marriage." I rub the back of my neck.

"Who is? But then, the right woman comes along, and you willingly tie yourself to her, clip your wings, and remind yourself she's always right."

"Sounds torturous." I wince.

"With the right woman, there’s a certain contentment, a peace of mind, a knowledge that she’s your better half, that she rounds out your edges, compliments your strengths. It’s the two of you against the world. A unit. And then you have kids, and everything changes again."

"Sleepless nights, and all the bullshit that comes with it." I roll my shoulders.

"You’re only looking at it from the outside?—"

"It’s all I can do."

"You’re choosing to ignore the obvious upsides."

"There’s none— Oh, wait… In my case, I get to consolidate my role as the CEO of the Davenport group, so there’s that."

"Money was never your motivator." Sinclair frowns.

"It is now."

"You’re the last person to be power-hungry."

"People change."

"The Edward I knew was the most loyal, the most ethical of all the seven of us."

"And look where that got me."

"So, you got your heart broken. Shit happens. You deal with it and move on."

I squeeze my fingers at my sides. "You’re beginning to piss me off," I growl.

"Good. I’d rather you feel those emotions you’ve bottled up inside since the incident."

"I don’t want to talk about the incident."

"Or the fucking betrayal you feel you committed in leaving the church?"

"I had my reasons." I set my jaw.

"And have you shared them with anyone?"

I glance away.

"Thought not. It’s not healthy to go through life without sharing what happened with someone else."

"Baron knows what happened." I swallow. It’s difficult to talk about the man who was my best friend once without that familiar pit opening up in my belly. I thought I’d gotten over what happened, but the ghosts were merely lying in wait under the surface.

"Have you spoken to him or Ava since you returned to London?"

When I don’t reply, his forehead creases. "You have to meet them at some point."

"Not if I can help it."

"We move in the same circles. He’s one of the Seven; it’s unavoidable."

"I’ve managed to avoid them this far."

"You can’t do it forever," Sinclair points out.

"I don’t see why not."

He sighs again. "Perhaps, being married will help you move on."

If being torn apart inside is how it feels to do so, then I’m not so sure.

"It will get better, Edward." He puts a hand on my shoulder.

If it were anyone else but Sinclair, I’d shake it off. But after I decided to limit my interactions with Baron and Ava, I ended up spending more time with him. The rest of the Seven are busy with their wives and families, and while they went through the same experience as Sinclair and I did, there’s always been a kinship between us because Sinclair, like me, has other demons to deal with.

"They have a child." I swallow.

There, I’ve said it aloud. It’s the first time I’ve acknowledged it to myself. I want Ava and Baron to be happy. I wish them well— I do —but when I found out Ava was pregnant, it gutted me. That’s when I realized I might not get over what happened for a long time. That’s when I knew every time I felt I was healing, it was merely my emotions lying in wait to ambush me again. That’s when I vowed to find myself a new focus. Something to channel all my energies into, so I could occupy my every waking moment with something other than my past.

I need to move on. I know that, and the only thing that seems to help has been throwing myself into something bigger than me. First, as the General Manager of the London Ice Kings, and now, as CEO of the Davenport group. It’s a temporary solution, but if it helps me move forward, I’m not complaining. It’s also why this marriage is important. It’s the only way for me to ensure Arthur hands over the decision-making power to me.

"I know you’re hurting Ed, and I wish you didn’t hide it. It’s not healthy for you."

I snort. "You’re beginning to sound like one of those new-age self-help gurus."

"And you’re ignoring the obvious."

"Which is?"

"You need her, Edward, more than you realize."