Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ailee
After three powerful orgasms, my muscles are like soggy noodles.
I can only manage to sprawl on one of the dining chairs.
It’s still unbelievable how loud and demanding I was, moving with him like that.
I’m usually restrained during sex because I’m worried that I might be too loud or clingy, but with Josh, the anxiety to be perfect isn’t in the driver’s seat anymore.
It’s hot as hell that he loves it when I’m honest and vocal.
At least I don’t look lewd with my shirt still on and skirt demurely covering me, even though he tossed my underwear to goodness knows where.
Hopefully it didn’t land in the dinner I made for him.
But thank the lord Akiko shared his favorite meal with me.
It looks like he could use some comfort food.
Josh takes off his jacket and vest and throws them over the back of a dining chair. His shirt is untucked—but I like the messy look. Makes him appear more human and approachable, something only I get to see.
He carves up the roast chicken I pulled out of the oven just as he arrived.
“This looks amazing,” he says. “Rosemary and garlic, my favorite. And the potatoes, too!” They were cooked in the chicken dripping and juices.
I smile. “I had a feeling this meal would be a hit.”
“Are you becoming psychic in addition to all your other charms?”
“Maaaybe. Plus I had tea and a parfait with Akiko this afternoon.”
“Ah. You two go to that dessert place she invested in?”
“Yeah. It was amazing.” I sigh at the memory of the delicious parfait. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much chocolate in my life.”
His lips curve. “If you want, we can go sometime. I haven’t tried it yet, although I had to pop in for the opening to support Akiko.”
I nod, trying not to read too much into his suggestion, which sort of makes it sound like we’ll stay together for longer than the agreed-upon six months.
Although he said he cared for me, that was in the throes of desire.
People say things they don’t really mean when emotions are high.
And even though Josh is one of the most deliberate people I know, that doesn’t mean he’s untouched by feelings.
Trust him. Trust yourself. Let things play out without forcing expectations.
“Did you get the pearls?” he asks as he places two plates of chicken and potatoes on the table and pours us a couple of glasses of the white zinfandel I pulled out of his wine cooler.
“How did you know?” I accept the wine with murmured thanks and sip. It’s surprisingly crisp and goes well with the chicken.
He takes the seat next to me. “She gave sets to Ares and Bryce’s wives, too. They’re from her family in Japan. They’re the real family heirlooms.” He gives me a meaningful look before biting into the poultry.
Oh, wow. No wonder Akiko reacted so strongly to Josh’s claim of my previous ring being an heirloom. Now I feel more awkward about receiving the pearls without telling her the truth. I should keep them safe in my closet. That way when Josh finds the love of his life, Akiko can give them to her.
“You should wear them to the opera next month,” he says.
“The opera?” I squeak, glad my mouth is empty.
“Uh-huh. Elizabeth invited us. It’s for a good cause.”
“You mean Elizabeth Pryce-King?” I ask. She’s the only one in his circle I know of who connects everything to some charitable clause.
He nods.
“But I don’t know anything about operas. Besides, it sounds so…fancy.”
He snorts. “Not that fancy. You dress nice, mingle, pretend to enjoy people singing at the top of their lungs in a language you don’t understand, and talk about how marvelous all the arias were.” He waves his fork, then spears more chicken and potatoes, and washes them down with the wine.
I giggle. “You honestly don’t understand what they’re singing on the stage? You seem like the type to speak multiple languages.”
“I speak English—obviously—and Spanish and some French and Japanese. That’s it. This opera is German. Fidelio by Beethoven.” He shrugs. “I might understand ‘hello!’ in German, if somebody says it. If they sing it, forget it.”
I laugh harder.
“But I don’t mind. The point is raising money for some charity.”
“I can see how it’d be worth the time.” I savor my final bite. I’m not super hungry after all the chocolate.
“Yes, but it’s also an opportunity for us to be seen together as a couple. With the pearls from Akiko.”
The image he creates makes my heart flutter, but caution holds me back. “But they’re too precious.”
His eyebrow rises in a warning. “Nothing is too precious for you.”
“But you said they’re heirlooms.”
“Exactly. Which is why they should be worn. So everyone knows that you’re with a Huxley.”
I fidget with the wine glass, running my finger up and down the stem. Although I’m trying to live in the moment, my mind can’t help racing to the future. “Josh…what we have—it’s only for six months. And we don’t even have five months left now. What if—”
“Klein.”
I stop and wait for him to continue. Nothing happens. So I prompt him: “Yes?”
He hesitates. Anxiety, fear and grim determination pass over his face in rapid succession. Why is he reacting like I asked for a kidney?
“Klein.” He says my name again like it’s some kind of magic word. “We initially agreed to six months, but that doesn’t mean we have to stick to the timeline.” He takes a moment, as though searching for the right words. “An agreement can be modified if both parties are amenable.”
“Riiight.” I nod slowly, unsure where we’re going with this.
“We don’t have to force ourselves to end it at six months just because that’s what we initially said.
To be honest, we didn’t even decide on that deadline ourselves.
It was just that ridiculous challenge Chad threw at you.
Right? So we can find our own fulfillment by ourselves, as a couple, without any artificial deadline, by taking it one day at a time. ”
I blink a couple of times. Taking our situation one day at a time was an option I’d been considering, but I didn’t realize Josh thought the same.
The knowledge is surprisingly comforting and reassuring.
Just not having a deadline makes our relationship feel more solid—after all, every journey starts with a first step.
Josh and I can stay together for as long as we want.
He gazes at me steadily. “The truth of the matter is I’ve liked you for a very long time. When I said I cared about you, it wasn’t just about getting into your panties.”
My heart stops just before my brain short-circuits.
“I just never wanted to admit it. I didn’t think I was good enough.”
I shake my head. That doesn’t make sense. Why is he saying what I should be saying? “That’s ridiculous,” I blurt out.
Self-deprecation cuts through his face. “But it’s true. Remember what I told you about my mother?”
“But that’s her, not you.”
“What do you think about her?”
“Zoe?” I purse my lips. From the intense look in his eyes, my answer is going to be important, and I don’t want to say the first thing that comes to mind—She’s a horrible person for trying to kidnap and hurt her own children.
“She was nice to me, but knowing what I know now… I think she’s highly manipulative and doesn’t mind who she hurts for expediency.
I’m so sorry that all those awful things that happened to you. You don’t deserve any of them.”
He lowers his eyes for a moment, like a man bracing for a certain defeat, and sympathy wells inside me.
The Josh Huxley I know is confident and proud.
When he raises them again, his expression is blank.
“I never wanted to find love. I never wanted to care for anyone other than my family because you can’t escape blood ties.
My mom used to tell me that she was most proud of me out of all her three boys because I was the most like her. ”
His mask splinters, showing bleakness underneath. My heart shatters for him.
He continues: “And because I was such a fool, I was elated when she told me that. I loved her and I wanted to make her proud. I was overjoyed that I was like her, until I realized that she wasn’t anything like what I believed.
She’s amoral and out of control. She doesn’t care about collateral damage as long as she gets what she wants.
” His voice cracks. “Sometimes I’m terrified of the possibility that I really am like her.
There are times I feel the urge to do something I shouldn’t so I can hurt her the way she hurt me.
” He shakes his head. “And that can’t be normal, can it?
” It isn’t a question but a desperate plea to be free of the heavy burden he carries.
He’s afraid to answer the question because he doesn’t trust himself.
“Why not?” I say gently. “Wanting to get back at someone who hurt you doesn’t make you a sociopath. That’s just being human.”
He gazes at me, half hopeful, half scared, and suddenly I hate Zoe. Josh is the kind of man who shines no matter where he is, radiating power and self-assurance, and she’s sown him with self-doubt.
I hesitate, then make up my mind. He revealed his private, guarded self.
Sharing something I’ve always felt ashamed of is the least I can do to help him see that he isn’t as bad as he fears.
“I’m sure you saw that my parents aren’t the nicest people—at least not to me.
I don’t know why, but they’re always really good to Katt, but never to me.
They always called me a failure, said they were embarrassed that I didn’t do better.
They think I should be more like Katt because we’re twins.
Fraternal, so we aren’t identical, but to them that’s not the point.
We have the same genetic material, we came out of the same womb at the same time, so why is she so successful, and I’m just a nobody? ”
Old bitterness shakes my voice. But Josh leans over and places a tender kiss on my forehead, communicating everything I need to pull myself together.
I exhale. “There are times when I’m just angry and frustrated.
I want to tell them that they’re wrong and that they’re being intentionally cruel to me.
I want to shake them until they see me. Their daughter, who needs their kindness just as much as their favored child.
Sometimes I want to show them that I’m happy without their approval, even though there are times when, you know, I crave their acceptance.
“But just because I occasionally want to be mean to them doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.
It’s more like making sure those who hurt us understand our pain.
Just a natural reaction. The important question is, do you give in to those negative urges purely for self-gratification?
If not, then I think you’re okay. It breaks my heart to realize that you thought you might be a bad person.
” I thread my fingers through his and tighten them until our palms are pressed together.
“You’re one of the nicest, sweetest people I know.
You’re my Prince Charming, or maybe the brave knight who came to slay the dragon and save the princess.
Doesn’t matter which—you’re perfect in my eyes. ”