The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 20

Declan

Ifound myself at the sprawling Hartley home in Newport Beach. I was going to surf, so I thought I could drop by and confront Julien.

Esme's arm had been bruised; from what I could tell, this wasn't the first time. There was no way Julien wasn't doing this on purpose. He was doing this to control her.

The housekeeper opened the door and led me to the back patio, which extended into a private beach. At a large table under an umbrella, Viv was with Monica and Julien. They were eating lunch.

"Welcome, son." Julien was overtly solicitous.

Viv rose and came up to me; and like the previous weeks hadn't happened, put her arms around me and went on tiptoe to kiss me on the mouth. I moved my head, so she caught my cheek. I may want her back, but I wouldn't cheat on my marriage vows, no matter how they were made.

"All okay, Declan?" she asked, sensing a storm under the calm.

"Yes. I need to speak with Julien." I walked up to Monica and kissed her cheek. She was a delicate, frail woman, so skinny that I suspected she had an eating disorder. She was always well put together, not a hair out of place—and hardly spoke. Did Julien put marks on her as well? She wore a pale blue sundress so I could examine her arms—no bruises.

"Let's go into my office," Julien suggested.

I followed him to his office. I found it heavy and dark—like something from an old movie with big leather sofas and shadowy teak furniture.

"Drink?" he asked as he led us to the dark brown leather sofa.

I shook my head. I also didn't sit when he asked me to take a seat.

"What's going on, my boy?"

I put my hands inside the pockets of my jeans to stop myself from punching Julien. "If you ever, and I mean ever, hurt Esme again, I'll break every bone in your body." I spoke calmly and without inflection.

"Excuse me?" Julien was shocked. "What the fuck has that stupid girl been telling you?"

"I saw what you did to her. You grabbed her arm so hard that she had bruises. You dug your nails into her and broke her skin. I guess this isn't the first time because there are scars from before. But this is the last time."

"Declan, I've never physically hurt anyone, and I find it offensive you accuse me of something so heinous. You can ask Monica and Viv…and they'll tell you that Esme is…well, we didn't have a choice but to have her marry you, considering the situation, but she's a nut job. She cooks up stories."

He was lying and doing it with such great ease that I wondered if he believed what he was saying.

"Esme didn't tell me anything. I saw the bruises. Julien, let me be as clear as I can, do not touch my wife ever again."

"Your wife?" he scoffed. "What's going on, Dec? Are you slumming it with that young thing? I see the attraction, don't get me wrong. I married the mother. Monica is much better looking, but that dusky south of the border appeal is there, isn't it?"

She was his daughter, and he spoke of her like a prostitute. During the years I dated Viv, I'd thought Julien was an arrogant snob, but he loved his daughter, which redeemed him. Viv and Julien were close friends and confidantes. But this man, this father of Esme's, was a monster.

"Julien, you're not listening to me. Do not touch Esme again. Am I clear?"

"Sure, if that makes you happy. But I assure you, Dec, I've never hurt Esme."

Yes, you have. Both physically and emotionally. All the time. And now you've drawn me into your circle of abuse, and I am also hurting Esme.

I walked out of the office and banged the door shut. Viv was waiting for me—heightened concern on her face.

"What's going on, darling?"

"Did you know that your father hurts Esme?"

"Hurts?"

"Yes. He grabs her arm and squeezes so hard that there are marks on her skin. He broke her skin in many places by digging his nails into her flesh."

Viv's face hardened. "What are you doing looking at Esme's arms, Dec? Are you sleeping with my sister?"

"She's my wife, Viv." I didn't want to concede that we had separate bedrooms and just one sexual encounter under our belts.

She took my hand and led me to her bedroom, which her parents kept for her when she visited. The one she'd grown up in. Where was Esme's bedroom, I wondered. Oh, yeah, she didn't have one. They sent her off to be with Monica's mother.

"What's going on, Dec? My father is the gentlest man I know. Sure, he's firm with Esme, but you've spent time with her; you know she's a total flake and needs to be constantly told what to do, otherwise, disaster."

Viv looked beautiful in a pair of denim shorts and a tight T-shirt. Her casual, off-day look. She had legs for miles, yet she didn't shine as brightly as Esme did for all her physical attributes. Shining as bright? What was going on with me?

"Esme graduated top of her class with a master's in social work, Viv. She's not dumb. She's not a flake."

Viv's eyes flashed with jealousy. I enjoyed seeing that. Why shouldn't she feel these stabs of pain as I had about her and that asshole she'd shacked up with?

"Are you falling for my little sister, Dec?"

"Why do you and your father hate her so much?"

She seemed stunned by the question. "Trust me; you'd feel like we do if you knew her better. Between Monica and Esme… it's been…you have no idea how hard we've had to work to maintain the Hartley name. We don't hate her. You haven't had to live with her."

"I do live with her," I countered. "But you haven't. Her grandmother raised her."

"That was Monica's decision. And a good one because Monica is right up there when speaking of people, you can't rely on. Daddy doesn't even let her cook—she's likely to burn the kitchen down."

There was no point in this conversation.

"I have to go."

"Stay the day with me, Dec." She came up to me and rubbed her breasts against my chest. "We can stay in bed all day like we used to."

I had been greedy with her. I had wanted her again and again. And yet, now, she was offering herself, and my cock refused to respond.

I stepped away from her. "I'm not like you, Viv. I don't cheat."

"It's a fake marriage."

"But our engagement was real, and yet you seemed to have no compunction in sleeping with other men."

She flushed. "One other man."

I could see she was lying. There were others. How could I not have seen any of this? How blind had I been? Or just busy. I was pushing myself to make something out of Knight Tech and I hadn’t paid enough attention to my relationship with Viv.

"Fake or not, it's a marriage, and I'm not going to fuck you, no matter how wet your pussy is, darling, because you left me, and I'm now married to your little sister."

I left her room, feeling confused. I didn't want Viv. It struck me like a thunderbolt.

Last night I'd been confident that I wanted her back, and that I'd take her back with open arms, even if I did make her grovel some. But now I knew we were done. There was no going back. Even after the year was done with Esme, I'd never be with Viv again. I'd never trust her again. It was over. It had been over for a while, but I'd not seen it or wanted to. I'd not noticed what she did because I didn't want to, not because I was too busy. Viv had been convenient, hadn't she? The merger, the marriage—everything I wanted. And Viv was a prize. Just look at her. But she wasn't for me. Not anymore.

I felt a sense of freedom as I drove to the waves of Baja California on the Pacific Coast Highway. I was done with Viv—the heart that had been hurting had stopped and was instead beating healthier and faster.