The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 29

Declan

Raya entered my office as I was preparing to leave, and I lifted my hand to stop her from speaking. “I’m taking Esme out to dinner and am already late. So, don’t give me a hard time about missing poker night.” My last meeting took longer than I thought it would. I’d texted Esme to get a drink and I’d join her shortly.

“Dec,” her voice was calm, but something was wrong, and I went on high alert.

“What?” I demanded.

“She’s in the ER.”

My heart pounded, and I could feel a buzz in my head. “Who’s she? Not Esme.”

Raya nodded. “I’m sorry, Dec.”

“What the fuck, Raya. I told you to take care of her. What happened?” I walked around my desk. “Which ER?”

“Good Samaritan, and your car is waiting downstairs. I’ll brief you in the car.”

“Is she hurt?”

“Yes,” Raya responded tightly.

I felt nausea climb through me at the thought of Esme hurt. “Not much, right?”

“Dec…it’s…”

“Christ!” I all but sprinted to the elevators.

Raya told me what happened as our driver navigated the busy streets of DTLA.

“Where the fuck were your people?”

“They didn’t realize she’d left. Usually, they’re with her. But she handled herself. Kneed him in the nuts and pepper sprayed him.”

“Then why the fuck is her nose broken?” I demanded.

“I really am sorry, Dec.”

“Fuck, Raya. Do you know how small she is?”

“I know.”

“How big was this guy?”

“Six two, two fifty.”

I blinked. “And she brought him down?”

Raya smiled. “Yeah. Don’t get on her bad side.”

“She works out. Does a hundred pushups in one go?” I felt admiration for my wife. Esme was fucking remarkable.

But she didn’t look like warrior woman, more like a broken doll when I saw her on a bed in an examination room in the ER. The minute I could, I was going to take her home.

“Where the fuck is her doctor?” I demanded.

“I’m so sorry, Declan.” Esme held her hand out to me.

I grabbed her hand and held it gently. Her knuckles were bruised. “Sweetheart, nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“I should’ve gotten an Uber, but I thought I’d walk. It’s not too far.”

“Raya, can you find out why her fucking doctor isn’t here?”

“This is an ER, Declan.” Esme tried to smile and winced. Her nose was taped. Her left eye was shut. There was a bruise on her left cheek, the size of my fist.

“They cleaned her up in the ambulance. But her nose is broken and…may need surgery,” Raya told me. She was keeping up to date with the two idiots standing outside the room, their white shirts smudged with my wife’s blood.

“What happened to the asshole who hurt her?”

“He was arrested. Esme will have to make a statement, but the detective in charge said he’d wait until she was patched up.”

Esme gripped my hand. “Please don’t be angry.”

I brushed my lips against her forehead. “I’m not angry with you, darling.”

“Don’t be angry with anyone. It’s not the first time that this has happened.”

“What do you mean?”

She moaned in pain, and I stiffened. “I’ve worked in women’s shelters and homes for children before. Abusive spouses and parents…they always like to take it out on the world.”

That was it. She was going to find a new line of work if I had to force her to do it. No fucking way she was going to Skid Row ever again.

“You still look angry,” she mumbled, then closed her eyes.

“Esme,” a panicked voice came from behind me. It was Mark Caruso.

Esme opened her eyes and let go of my hand. He immediately sat on the bed next to her and embraced her.

“My nose is broken, Mark,” she said sadly.

“I know, baby doll. I know. But we’ll fix it up, okay.”

“But you’re not a plastic surgeon.”

She was crying now, and he rocked her.

That should’ve been me, I thought. But I was so angry with everything and everyone that I’d not held her, comforted her. I’d let my frustration with letting her down take over. I had put my feelings first, not hers. I knew she needed peace, and since I got here, I ignored her requests not to be angry and barked orders. The fact that I felt like shit, watching another man comfort my wife, was exactly what I deserved.

I stuck my hands in my pockets and watched the two friends. Mark was devastated. One look on his face told me that.

“How is she?” Maria whispered. I hadn’t even noticed her come in. She pulled the curtains back to maintain Esme’s privacy from the other two patients in the room.

“Her nose is broken,” my voice was hoarse with emotion. “And she’s sad.”

Maria put a hand on my arm. “I should’ve insisted on giving her a ride. She said she’d walk to the restaurant and—.”

“Not your fault,” I immediately soothed her because I knew Esme would want that.

The doctor finally arrived, and I reigned in my temper to not fly off the handle with him and demand why he was late. As Esme had said, this was an ER, and broken noses were not a priority; life-threatening bullet and knife wounds were.

They ran blood tests and x-rayed her nose. They cleaned and re-bandaged her. Thankfully, her nose would not need surgery as the break a hairline fracture and clean. There would be swelling but it would pass soon. I was happy about that because having Esme go under anesthesia scared the fuck out of me. It was Mark who pushed her wheelchair. Once we were outside, I picked her up and carried her to the Escalade.

“I’m too heavy,” she moaned, loopy from the painkillers she had taken.

“Never.” I put the seat belt on her. I slid inside beside her and let her head rest against my shoulder. “Mark, you want to come along?” I asked because she’d want him.

Mark shook his head. “I’ll check on her tomorrow.”

“We both will.” Maria’s eyes were clouded with concern and guilt.

As we drove home, I secured her to me with an arm around her shoulder.

“Are you in pain, love?”

“Hmm,” she mumbled. “I know there’s pain, but it’s far away, behind a wool cloud.”

They’d given her codeine because her nose would hurt like a mother, the ER doctor had assured me. I hugged her close as she slept.

She slept through when I carried her to the penthouse and put her in my…our bed. I took the hospital gown she was wearing off. Underneath she wore a pair of sensible white panties. There were still streaks of dried blood on her chest. My heart stuttered as I covered her up with the duvet. I watched her for a while, wondering when she’d become so important to me that I was afraid to leave as she slept, worried she’d stop breathing.

Even with her nose plastered and the bloom of a bruise on her face, she looked beautiful. My warrior princess, I thought. How could I ever have thought she was a doormat? She took down a hulk of a man with pepper spray and her knee. Sure, she did look like she went a few rounds with a linebacker, but she’d gotten the best of him.

I left her to sleep and went to my office, which was through my bedroom. This way, if she moved, I’d hear her.

I called Raya because she’d insisted I do that after Esme was settled in bed. She felt guilty, and even though I wanted to be annoyed with her, I knew she was not at fault. Esme worked in a high-risk workplace. And even though I wanted Esme to stop, I knew she wouldn’t. She loved her work, and I couldn’t change her mind. I would, however, make sure that she had better security—and this time, she’d know about it and not go anywhere without someone watching her back, she’d have to do for my sanity.

“How is she?” Raya asked.

I heard a rustle of clothing and smiled when Mateo’s sleepy voice came through the phone. “It’s late, querida. Who are you talking to?”

Raya moved away from where she was as I heard her footsteps. “Is she okay?”

“Yes. She’s sleeping. We must ensure she knows she has security and they’re with her. I’ll give her a car, so she doesn’t walk to work or take the metro or whatever the fuck she’s been doing. This is on me. I should’ve taken better care of her.”

“Esme is not going to let a car drive her around, and you know that. Security has had one hell of a time keeping up with her because she insists on public transportation.”

“I don’t know why she wants to live like she has no money.”

“She doesn’t,” Raya reminded me.

“I do. And what’s mine is hers.”

“Things have certainly changed.”

“And I guess you’ll be well fucked when you come to the office tomorrow,” I retorted.

There was a long pause. “Any chance you’ll forget what you just heard?”

“That Mateo called you darling, and it seems like he’s in whichever bed you plan to climb into after this call?”

I could hear her grit her teeth. “Yes, that. Mateo doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “Because…it’s just the way he wants it.”

But you don’t, I thought, and that was maybe why sometimes there was grief in her eyes. The man she was in love with was not in love with her, not enough to make it official and public. Mateo probably saw this as a temporary relationship that would end soon. Also, if it came in the open, HR would have a few things to say about him fucking someone who reported to him. Well, I was the company's CEO, and I was okay with him and Raya having a relationship; hell, I’d been waiting for it to happen for years.

“How long has it been going on?” I asked softly.

“A few weeks.”

“On his side, a few weeks. On yours?”

I heard a self-deprecating laugh. “A lifetime. Give my best to Esme.”

“Goodnight, Raya. And I’ll say nothing to Mateo.”

“Thanks, Dec, and I’ll take better care of Esme. I promise.”