The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 36

Esme

Irefused to go home, so Dec ensured I had a change of clothes. He didn't pressure me to go home; instead, he sat beside me on the sofa in my mother's room.

"I sent Mark away," he told me.

"He was here all day, and now he has to work the night shift."

I didn't let Declan hold my hand. I kept distance between us. I had to tell him something, convince him somehow to marry Viv. But I didn't have the words. I loved Declan Knight and didn't want to let him go. Who would? He was loving and caring, a bright star in my life that had been so often dark. Once he left, it would return to being gloomy, and it would be worse than before because now I knew how wonderful life could be, how love could and did make the world go around.

We sat quietly, watching my mother. He didn't make any demands on me, and I felt guilty. But I didn't know what to say to him when what I had to say was, "Let me go, Declan. Please. And marry Viv. She loves you, and you love her."

I had to remember how they were together. That would give me strength. I remembered Viv's birthday party one year when I had come down from Seattle. Declan had given her a tennis bracelet. It was beautiful.

"It's a five hundred grand bracelet," one of Viv's friends told me. "He loves her so much."

But it wasn't the bracelet that told me that; it was how he put it on her wrist and kissed her, how he nuzzled her when he sat next to her, unable to stop touching her.

"You want my cock, baby girl? Beg for it. Let me hear you beg, Viv."

The memories made something inside me bleed painfully. My eyes closed, and I let the exhaustion claim me.

When I woke up, my head was on a cushion on Declan's lap. His fingers rested on my head, tangled up in my hair. He was asleep as well. I sat up, and he opened his eyes. He languorously smiled at me. "How are you, sweetheart."

"You should go home," I said sharply. "Please. My father will be here soon." And I didn’t want you to with me when I saw him.

He didn't appear to hear me as he stretched.

I knew how I looked in the morning, with my hair going everywhere. He looked perfect.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"I said go home."

"No." He brushed his lips against mine. "Esme, I'm going to go and find some coffee. It was a long night. With the nurses coming in and out, I hardly got any sleep. So, let's not push my buttons, okay?"

I hadn’t woken to the nurses. I had been entirely out, warm and cozy, with Declan's fingers massaging my scalp.

I used the ensuite bathroom to brush my teeth.

Declan came back coffee and fresh croissants; probably delivered by Baker because they didn’t look like they were hospital issue. I took the coffee but couldn’t stomach the pastries. Declan didn’t have a similar problem with his appetite.

He refused to leave and became even more adamant when my father and Viv came to see my mother. They spent five minutes with her, and then my father asked me to step outside with him for a conversation.

"No." Declan stood in front of me.

I shook my head and walked past him. "It's okay. He's my father."

Declan didn't respond, but the fury on his face told me how disappointed he was in me. I couldn't blame him. I was choosing my family over him. He knew that. I knew that. And seeing the triumph in Viv's eyes, she also knew that.

As soon as we came out, he dragged me, grabbing my arm in that horrible way to an empty seating area with tables and chairs. He shoved me into a chair.

"Esme, it's gone on long enough, this sham marriage of yours. I understand that Dec is upset with Viv, but he'll get over it. So, here is what you need to do. Pack up your bags and leave his house."

He threw an envelope and a pen on the white hospital table. The pen made a horrible sound as it crashed against the linoleum surface. "These are the annulment papers. Sign them."

He saw my hesitation. "Don't you love your mother, Esme?"

He wasn't even going to pretend that he wasn't blackmailing me.

I nodded weakly. I didn't read the papers. I pulled them out of the envelope and with blurry eyes, signed them. He snatched the papers away.

"Now get lost."

"But Daddy—"

"Esme, go. I don't want anything of yours in his and Viv's place by the time he gets home. Got it?"

I looked at the door of my mother's room. "Let me at least talk to—"

"Esme—" he began, but the rest of his words dropped off when Declan walked out of my mother's room, Viv in tow.

Julien handed the papers I'd just signed to Declan. "She's signed the annulment papers, Dec. The ball is in your court."

Declan looked at me with such pain that my heart broke all over again. How is it that I was happy with him just a day ago, and now, it was all gone?

"Esme is this what you want?" he asked me, ignoring my father.

"Yes." I kept my head down. I wouldn't be able to leave him if I looked into his eyes.

I saw Declan take the papers from Julien. "Vega will have to look through them. I believe I have a month to sign."

"Yes, and if you don't, we'll start divorce proceedings, and if that happens, we all lose Dec."

"I know." His voice was strong, not bleeding with emotion as mine was. I wanted to see his face, but I didn't dare. It would crush me. As things were, I wasn't sure how long I could even stand here when all I wanted to do was curl up and grieve.

"Esme is moving out of your place," my father told my husband.

"I'd like to hear that from her."

"I'm going to go home and pack,” I said meekly. What else was there to do?

"No need to pack, Esme. Calliope will take care of it. Just let her know where you want your things delivered."

So, I wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to the penthouse that had we’d made into our home. He didn’t want me in his space. I’d made my decision and he’d made his. Of course, he had. I was a coward—a doormat. And the evidence was in front of him. Why would he want to be with someone like me?

"Thank you." I was looking at my shoes and the white floor of the hospital.

A part of me had hoped he'd try and stop me. That he’d fight for me. But it appeared that he was going to let me walk away. Let me leave. End what the magic that was us.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. I repeated the words like a mantra.

"Then it seems like there's nothing else left to say. Goodbye, Esme," he said softly.

I nodded and blindly walked away.