Chapter 57

57

Mira

He had me followed. He invaded my privacy. He’s known who I was for a while. He knew everything about me when he asked me to work for him. It was all preplanned, including asking me to marry him. My head swims. And yet, somehow, I’m not overly surprised. It explains why, when I met Edward I felt like I knew him. I felt like I had seen him. It’s why it always felt like he was hiding something from me. I just never thought it would be something so big.

"Everything you told me was a lie." I begin to inch toward the edge of the bed.

"Do the last few days seem like a lie?" He raises his hand as if he’s going to reach for me, then lowers it. "I’m not good at expressing myself through words, Belle."

"Don’t call me that."

"You can’t negate everything that's happened between us just because the way it started was a little unorthodox," he growls.

I rise to my feet. "You stalked me. Bugged my devices. Had cameras on me. Had me followed. You manipulated me into working for you, knowing I didn’t want to work in the role of a personal assistant. You knew I worked in a preschool. If you had so much information on me, you’d have known I’ve always wanted to work with kids, yet you offered me the role of your PA."

"I wanted you close to me."

"I was right outside your office, and you still had a camera trained on me."

His jaw tics. "You have to understand, I'm not good at sharing what’s mine. Left up to me, I’d have had you locked at home, and not allowed anyone to see you."

I glance around the space. "Is that why you brought me here? So you could hide me away? I’d question whether you also arranged for a snowstorm, but not even you could do that."

His eyes flash, then he glances away.

I raise my hands to my mouth. "Oh, my god, you knew there was a storm on the way."

"I might have heard about it on the weather forecast, yes."

"So you planned it so that we’d be here and unable to leave."

He drags his fingers through his hair. "It’s not like that."

"It is exactly that. You had it all planned. You knew my every move. You knew my past, who my father was—" I lower my arms to my side. "You knew he was going to arrange my marriage. Did you also arrange for his business to go under so you could use it as leverage?"

When his left eyelid twitches, I know I’m right. He must see the realization sink in, for he slides his legs over the side of the bed and stands.

When he moves toward me, I throw my arms up. "Don’t touch me."

His features twist. A haunted look comes into his eyes. He seems helpless and forlorn, and so lonely, and… I cannot let that get to me. I cannot let the devastation in his gaze soften me. I can’t allow him to get close to me again. Not after everything he just revealed.

He looks away, then back at me. "When we return, you can lead on the initiative to set up childcare facilities in the office."

It’s not what I expected him to say, so I stay quiet.

"I’ve wanted to set up childcare services in the office for a while, and you would be the perfect candidate to drive that." He lowers his chin to his chest. "You know you want to help with this project."

"I do." I put more distance between us. "But it doesn’t change what you did. Things which I may never be able to come to terms with."

Color drains from his features. "Don’t say that." His voice is hoarse like he’s been yelling, or maybe it’s all the lies he’s told me.

"You did something unforgivable. You betrayed my trust."

"I didn’t have a choice."

"You could have come out and told me you liked me."

"Liked you?" He pronounces the words like they are something foreign.

"And maybe, we could have gone on dates."

"Dates?" The furrow between his forehead deepens.

"You know. Dinner, a movie…? Like normal people."

"Normal people." There is a strange look in his eyes, something I can’t quite place. A mix of surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, normal people. People who respect boundaries and know they can’t just plant cameras and listening devices on others. People who think of more than running a company, and who don’t earn billions and make more in one day than most of the planet does in a year. People like me."

"You’re wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"You’re not a normal person," he says through gritted teeth.

"Of course, I am."

"You’re the most genuine person I've ever met. The most honest, the most generous, the most empathetic. You care about others more than yourself, and that is not normal. Not even faintly normal. People are selfish and cruel and hurt others to get what they want."

"Like you hurt me?"

He winces. "I… I didn’t want to hurt you. Quite the contrary. I wanted to make sure you got everything you wanted."

"I didn’t ask for all this." I wave a hand in the air. "All I wanted was a home of my own, a family, a man who loves me."

"I—" He swallows. "I…care about you, Belle."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"It’s the only way I know."

"And I’m sure you’re going to use the incident to justify the way you turned out. You’re going to tell me the incident is the reason you're an uncaring, unfeeling, calculating person…who I hate."

"You don’t hate me."

"I do now." I pull the sheet off the bed and wrap it around my shoulders.

His features take on a dissatisfied look. He seems like he’s about to say something, then draws in a sharp breath. "Everything I did…was from a place of wanting to woo you."

"Clearly, we differ on that definition," I scoff.

"Give me one chance." He shuffles his feet. "Just one chance to win your heart."

"Why should I, when all you’ve done is lie to me and make me believe in a relationship which doesn’t exist?"

"But it does. Everything that's happened between us—all of it is true. From the first moment I saw you, I knew there was no one else for me but you. I recognized you, Belle. I knew we had a connection. I knew I had to have you in my life."

"And me? What about me? You didn’t think about what I wanted, or what I needed?—"

"Only every second. I knew you didn’t want to marry a perfect stranger?—"

"You were a perfect stranger."

"I was your boss; you’d gotten to know me. You knew there was chemistry between us."

"Oh, so that makes it all justifiable. That you gave me a job under false pretext, a job I was woefully unqualified for?—"

"And which you performed well."

"—and just because we were attracted to each other doesn’t mean I wanted to marry you."

"Marriages have been built on less. And you have to admit, the physical connection between us is mind-blowing."

"But I want more." I turn on him. "I understand, you express yourself through your actions. I think it’s why you wanted to tie me up. It’s how you showed me you care for me, in your own way. It’s how you wanted to share with me what you feel for me. But if you can’t give words to your sentiments… If you can’t open your mouth and elaborate what it is you feel for me… Then, I’m not sure we have a future, especially after—" I tug the sheet tighter. "After everything you just told me."

"I’m sorry, I hurt you. I’m sorry, I couldn’t play by the rules. I’m sorry, I wasn’t open about my intentions. But if I had been, would you have given me a chance?"

I stay silent.

His throat moves as he swallows. “I know what kind of a person I am. I know I’m not good enough for you."

"What are you talking about?" I frown.

“I spied on you, yet I couldn’t tell your stepmother and half-sisters were not treating you well. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

I rub at my temple. “They were subtle about how they hurt me. Oftentimes, their remarks almost seemed like compliments, but I knew they were meant to be hurtful.”

"I should have paid more attention.”

“It’s not like you could have intervened,” I point out.

“I’d have found a way. If I had been a better man, not so focused only on my own needs, I’d have stepped in. It’s why you should have married someone better, someone who could be more open with his emotions and give you the emotional security you deserve. Someone 'more normal.' Someone who’d give you a white picket fence and a house in the suburbs and?—"

"And you’re wrong. Those are external trappings. I just want someone who loves me."

His chest rises and falls. A fleet of expressions crosses his face. He opens his mouth, and I’m sure this is it. This is when he'll say those three words that will change everything. Instead, when he speaks, it’s to growl, "Nothing can change the fact that we’re married." He continues in a hard voice, "The ceremony was real. The paperwork around it was real."

There’s a tinge of desperation in his voice. Edward and desperate? Nope, that must be my imagination. He's a lying, conniving, bastard. That’s who he is.

"Are you hearing yourself? I’m talking about the fact you violated my personal boundaries." That’s not all he violated, but the physical aspect of it… I can’t bring that into the equation, because I enjoyed it. Damn him, but he took me to heights I didn’t think I'd ever reach. He showed me the kind of pleasure that's imprinted on every pore in my body—his touch is stamped into my skin and his name is painted into the most secret parts of my body, thanks to the intensity with which he fucked me. And it was fucking . It wasn’t lovemaking. I might have fooled myself into thinking otherwise, but it wasn't love. It can’t be love. The fact he overstepped the limits of my personal space, breached my faith… It’s not something I can look past.

"And you’re still my wife."

That’s when his phone buzzes.