The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 47

Declan

She looked like a combination of slutty sex goddess and a delicate doll in the white Vera Wang lace dress. It had a tight bodice and a flared skirt, coming slightly above her ankles. Her nude pumps had a small heel and made her tiny feet appear even daintier.

"The dress has pockets," she said with delight.

"I made sure." I had because she didn't like to carry a purse.

"Where are your glasses?"

She looked sheepish. She pulled them out of her pocket. "I don't want to wear them because…you know, four eyes and all that."

"You wore them at Church this afternoon."

"No one was taking pictures."

"Sweetheart, wear them, don't wear them. You look beautiful no matter what."

Her glasses were so much a part of her that I didn't notice them anymore. But I knew that she got conscious at times about them.

"Am I a fraud if I don't want them on because of the photos?"

"Not at all."

We walked to the elevator, and once the doors closed, she turned to me.

"I know I'm not as good-looking as—"

I stopped the elevator and took her face in my hands. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever been with."

She rolled her eyes.

"I know no one told you this, but you are. I think you're beautiful and not just because of how you look; but how you are."

"And how am I?"

"Amazing. Do you think I'm good looking?"

She grinned. "Fishing, Declan?"

"Am I?" I persisted.

"You're the most handsome man I know."

I kissed her. "That's exactly how I feel about you. I love you. I want to find good wine with you, go to restaurants with you, help you at Safe Harbor, travel with you, and have babies with you. I want to have you with me, telling me I’ll be alright and not fail at managing Knight Tech."

"Thank you, Declan." She kissed me. "Thank you for always knowing what I need."

I restarted the elevator. "Speaking of needs, we have a twenty-minute drive."

"Your Escalade needs to be sanitized, considering what we always seem to do there."

"It's protocol whenever we're in the car," I teased, ridiculously happy.

My mother had gone above and beyond to make the reception a success. My father had talked to her and explained why we were having a Church wedding and a proper reception. I needed Esme to come to me on her own. To know that she'd be making several people unhappy. I had been scared shitless that she'd not show, and I'd have to start all over again with her because I wasn't going to give up no matter what.

As a man who'd spent most of his life fucking everything that moved, I thought I was ready to settle down when I met Viv. But my heart had never been involved. She was successful. We had this merger with Hartley Industries in our plans. My mother approved of her.

Until I met Esme, I didn't even know what it meant to be in love. The violence with which I needed Esme was new—unmatched and coveted by me. And I felt that same need and desire for me in her.

My mother had apologized in her way—but Nina Knight was who she was and wouldn't suddenly become a whole new person. It was galling her that Dad was asking for a divorce when she'd always thought it'd be her who’d demand it first. I wish they'd done this years ago, but better late than never.

Esme was talking to Raya and Mateo when I came to the bar to find Forest nursing a whiskey as he stared at Daisy on the dance floor with her date.

"He's a director. Some big shot. Won an Oscar once for some shit movie." Forest wasn't drunk, but he was working on it. "I asked her to come with me for this shindig. She said no."

"Because you have a girlfriend—"

"Lily is not a girlfriend. She's a fuck buddy. Christ, does no one understand the difference."

"Maybe the big shot director is Daisy’s fuck buddy." I knew that would not go down well with Forest, and as proof, he downed his glass of Scotch. He set it on the bar with a loud thud. "If she wants someone to fuck, she fucks me."

He stormed toward Daisy, and I waited for the fireworks. Instead, they surprised me by dancing together, the big shot director finding himself a drink.

Esme came up to me and put her arms around my neck. "Dance with me."

I led her to the dance floor as the band played At Last by Etta James. She put her head on my shoulder, and I held her close. We swayed like that for a long while.

She looked up at me, “One question."

"Hmm."

"When do you want to start having these babies you discussed?"

"As soon as you want them."

She smiled at me. "I don't know if I'm ready."

"That's okay, love; we'll practice until you are."

The music changed to something faster, and Esme went on tiptoe and whispered in my ear, "Can we go home now to practice?"