14. Confessions of Undying Love for My Wife
14
CONFESSIONS OF UNDYING LOVE FOR MY WIFE
DAISY
Kai: Hello, Daisy. Can you please come over? It’s kinda urgent.
My mouth dries as I read the text. It’s Kai’s third day with Dad. What could have happened that he needs me already?
“What’s wrong?”
The phone slips from my hand at Charles’ voice. Before the glass and plastic meets a shattering doom, my soon-to-be husband takes a huge step forward and grabs it.
His gaze drops to the texting app, where Kai’s message is still open.
“Let’s go.” Charles holds me by my elbow and turns me around toward the elevators.
“Charles, where are you going? You have a meeting”—I look down at my watch—“in fifteen minutes.”
“Meetings can be rescheduled, Daisy.”
Since when?
But my words remain locked in my throat when the elevator stops. Steve is already at the door waiting. With practiced ease, Charles and I enter the back seat of his Porsche.
This might probably be the first time we’re driving together for something that isn’t a business meeting.
And this won’t be the last.
Before the thought and its reality sets in, my phone rings.
“Aunt Mel, please tell me Dad’s okay.” I hold the device close to my ear with both hands.
“Come fast, Daisy. There’re reporters in your home, and your dad is—” Her voice gets a high-pitched tone I’ve never heard before. “God, Jason, no…”
“No, what?” I jump in my seat, but the call ends. I immediately turn around to face Charles. “There are reporters at my dad’s place! He must be freaking out.” Since his diagnosis, Dad has become wary of strangers, wondering if he should remember a face he doesn’t recognize.
Before my tripping heart can combust in this cramped space, Steve parks the Porsche and I rush out. For once, I don’t wait for my boss.
But my feet get stuck at the landing watching the scene before me. At least fifteen reporters are seated trying to fit themselves into a space that looks exactly like the times my mom would host a Christmas party and invite too many people. But instead of a giant Christmas tree, everyone is facing the chair at the center of the room, where my dad is seated with the widest smile on his face.
“So before we start, does everyone have their coffee?” he asks, and when the reporters raise their cups, Dad continues. “Good. As I was saying, Daisy is my pretty girl with a heart of gold. I’m not surprised Mr. Hawthorne fell for her, but I think he should have asked for my permission. That’s the right way of doing these things. What do you say, Kai?”
My dad’s handsome nurse stands behind him in a plain white tee and black pants. Celtic tattoos cover his folded arms, and he gives Dad a confused nod before his gaze lands on me.
“Thank God,” Kai mouths.
“Dad, what’s all this?” I finally find my voice and take a step further in. All heads turn in our direction as I approach Dad while Charles remains glued to the doorway, his bodyguards right behind him.
“They all came to congratulate me, Doodles. On your engagement.”
My legs almost shake as I walk toward him, looking at the wide smile on his face.
Oh my God.
Dad’s gaze drifts from me to the doorway, and he slowly gets up. “Mr. Hawthorne. Please come in. This is your first time in our house.”
Oh, Charles.
Unfamiliar place. Unfamiliar people. Unfamiliar situation.
His panic engine must be running at full throttle.
Before I can think of a way to fix this mess, which means getting every reporter out of this room, Charles into his car on the way back to work, and Dad preferably still with his smile, a throat clears beside me.
“You have quite a party going on here, Mr. Price.” Charles plays with the knot of his tie as his assessing gaze flies to the cameras in the room.
He might be fooling everyone in this room with his smile, but I know it’s his I-can’t-wait-to-get-the-hell-out-of-here grin. But when his gaze lands on Dad, a foreign smile touches his lips. If it were anyone else, I might call his face friendly. But this is Charles, a man who doesn’t quite know that f-word.
“I know this isn’t the correct order.” He takes a step forward, away from me, toward my dad and the reporters. “But I’ve been trying to convince your daughter about us for so long that when she finally agreed to my proposal, I forgot all the rules.”
I don’t know if it’s just me, but Charles’ honey-dipped words almost sound sincere. Almost.
“Nevertheless, I’d very much like to fix this. Would it be acceptable to you?”
A second later, Dad nods and takes his seat. One of the reporters vacates a garden chair for Charles. My fiancé of three days thanks the man and gracefully turns to face Dad.
“Mr. Price, my life hasn’t been the same since your daughter walked into it, and I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else in the world. Would you give me your permission to marry her?”
There’s pin-drop silence in the room, and even my own heartbeat stops as Dad looks at me and then slowly back at Charles.
“You didn’t mention the most important prerequisite for a successful marriage, Mr. Hawthorne. Do you love my daughter?” Dad finally asks, slicing the silence with his soft voice.
My heart jumps into my throat. A part of me doesn’t want Charles to lie to my dad, but he’s a businessman adept at closing deals, and this marriage is nothing more. While I expect him to profess his undying love for me, Charles runs a hand through his hair.
His gaze drops for a second before the smile returns. “I love her intense sincerity and absolute honesty. I love how she’s not hesitant to call anyone out, including me, if her self-respect is threatened. I love how much she’s willing to walk the extra mile for everything that’s important to her, including you, and I hope me too.”
Wow!
It takes a second of heart-attack-inducing quiet before a smile spreads on Dad’s face. “You have my permission, but know that you are a very lucky man, Mr. Hawthorne.”
I’m shocked to see Charles running a hand through his hair in relief. He was nervous about my dad’s response!
“Please call me Charles, and you’re one hundred percent right on that one, Mr. Price.”
My dad’s lips curl when there’s a collective roar from the audience, and multiple camera flashes go wild as if we’re on a red carpet and not in my parents’ simple living room.
Dad’s arm feels light when he places it over my shoulders. We’re standing on the porch, watching Charles saunter toward his car, with Steve waiting for him outside, holding the door open. I decided to stay for another hour and make sure Dad’s fine after the morning disruption.
“I’m no longer worried about you after I’m gone, Doodles. You’ve found the perfect husband, one who’ll keep you very happy.”
My heart stutters against my rib cage like a caged bird. There have been so few instances when I’ve lied to my parents, and this one is the worst of all.
“He’s the Hawthorne heir, Dad. Everyone thinks he’s perfect.” I shrug, mustering up a smile and hoping it doesn’t look too fake.
“He could be a handyman, Doodles, and if he looked at you the same way, I’d still say you found the perfect husband .” Dad’s eyebrows wiggle.
I feel a surge of electricity coursing through my veins while watching Dad, who’s alert and happy. He’s acting like his usual self from before the diagnosis.
“Now, come on. I need to show you something before I forget.” He holds my hand and leads me inside, not stopping until we reach his bedroom.
A fresh wave of nostalgia hits me at the sight of the daisies by Mom’s dresser.
“You bought Mom’s favorite flowers,” I whisper.
Dad looks up from his nightstand and slowly smiles as he glances between me and the white ceramic vase. “Kai asked me to do one thing I used to do regularly in the past.”
“I’m so happy that we found Kai.”
“Me too, kiddo. Now, come here.” He pats the edge of the bed before perching on it himself.
“What is it, Dad?”
Instead of replying with words, he removes his wedding band from his finger and places it in my palm.
“Um, you want me to keep it safe for you?” My gaze slants between my dad’s soft face and his bare finger with a clear discoloration from his missing wedding band.
He slowly shakes his head. “Your nana gave this ring to your mom after I proposed. This was your grandfather’s. He made it himself in his metal shop, along with a matching band for Nana. I always thought Penny and I had such a happy married life because we had your grandparents’ blessing. I’d like the same for you, Doodles.”
My throat tightens uncomfortably, and I look away to avoid his gaze. The ring sears my skin as if it’s on fire.
“I…I don’t know, Daddy. Charles might prefer…something else.” Like not wearing a wedding band at all.
In the last four years, Charles has never once changed his dressing style or accessories. I’m sure he isn’t suddenly going to become a jewelry fan.
Dad’s smile drops for a flash before he nods. “I understand. But why don’t you ask once, for my sake?” He closes my fist around the ring, wrapping my fingers under his own.
“That, I’ll do. I promise.”
The next morning, I enter the office to find my desk transformed into a ring showcase from a jewelry store. I grab the pearly white notecard with a Hawthorne monogram at the bottom and read the words written in Charles’ flowing cursive handwriting.
“Pick the one you like the best and we’ll be engaged.”
A feeling of remorse hits me like a heavy gust of wind, shaking me to my core. No girl would probably admit it out loud, but we all imagine that moment when, with hearts in our eyes, we’ll find the right guy who will endure sleepless nights trying to come up with the perfect proposal and make all our dreams come true. And these monstrous rings are a far cry from my dreams, which never changed whether I was thirteen or twenty-three.
I dreamed of the day when someone would give me a ring because he couldn’t wait to marry me and start our family. Like my dad, he would probably go to a thrift shop to find something within his budget that was meaningful to us. To me.
But here I am, standing before diamonds the size of my eyes, probably costing more than Cherrywood’s worth, and still—
“You don’t like them.”
“Make a noise, will you?” I grip my chest. My gaze shifts to Charles, who simply shrugs, leaning against the door of his office.
“So…the rings. You hate them,” he repeats, awaiting my confirmation.
Daisy, he’s the same man who told your dad yesterday that he loved your sincerity and honesty.
But does he really?
So you’re going to ask him that?
Of course not!
Instead, I grab the closest ring without a second glance and shove it in front of him.
“This.”
“Really?” His eyebrows rise.
I look down and grimace. It’s an obnoxiously huge diamond on a shining gold band.
This is so not me.
But neither is this marriage.
It’ll work as a perfect daily reminder that everything is fake.
Before I can put the monstrosity on my finger, Charles plucks it away from my hand.
“There are no reporters around,” I say. “I can put it on myself.”
His lips twitch in response, only fueling my irritation.
Here I am drowning in lost dreams, and he’s enjoying this.
“How about you try this one?” Charles takes out a blue velvet ring box from his jacket. When he opens the box, nestled in the soft white cushion, is the prettiest ring I’ve ever seen.
A daisy—circular yellow diamonds in the center with white shining petals.
“The jewelers sent it by mistake. It was custom made for someone, but the couple split up. Neither of them want a reminder of their failed engagement. The jeweler is going to split it and reuse the diamonds.”
“They’ll rip it apart?” The horror in my voice can’t be tamed. “Why can’t they sell it as secondhand?”
But my boss couldn’t be more pragmatic as he shrugs. “It would be difficult to sell it as the promise of a lifetime when its original owners find it imperfectly misfortunate.”
Imperfect .
There’s that word again, which is the foundation of our relationship. “I’ll take it.” I grab the box from his hand.
“You don’t want something with less bad luck?” He tugs on his tie, a telltale sign that he’s skeptical, but I can’t help my laugh.
“How can it be bad luck when we want this marriage to fail? I think it’s perfect. Plus, it’s beautiful.” My hands stop before I can put it on my finger. “Should I?” I look at him to find his gaze fixed on my hand before sliding to my face. My breath hitches, and I know I’ll never forget the way Charles is looking at me right now.
He slowly nods and I put the ring on.
The diamonds shine against the light as I move my fingers, admiring the ring. The feeling in my heart is almost indescribable. Almost like watching the last episode of your favorite show. You want to know how everything wraps up, but you also don’t want it to end.
Charles clears his throat. “What are you thinking?”
“That I’d hate for this to be ripped apart someday.”
“It doesn’t have to be ripped apart.” Charles’ voice drops lower than usual. “You can always keep it. It would make a good investment for the future.”
Of course, if there’s anyone who would think of an engagement ring as an investment, it’s my boss.
“I’ll think about it.”
“When you send these back, can you also get a wedding band for me?”
“You’ll wear a band?” My question is laced with shock.
“How else will I flaunt my undying love for you, wife?” His hesitant grin makes me shiver. “Nothing fancy. Just get something simple. Whatever seems okay to you will do.”
While Charles stands there, the wedding band in my bag screams to be picked up.
Will I be cornering him by showing him Dad’s ring?
But I promised Dad I’d ask. How can I ignore that, especially when Charles himself is asking about the ring?
“I…I might have something.” I bring the golden band forward. “This is my dad’s. He gave it to me yesterday. You can say no. I just promised him I’d ask you.”
He looks between the ring and me for several seconds, his expression unreadable and stoic. My heart is almost in my throat, and I’m about to demand that Charles show some emotion so I can guess what he’s thinking.
“It’ll do,” he says. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get some real work done. We’re breaking ground on Vincent’s showroom construction this afternoon, so make sure everything goes without a hitch. Don’t forget your duties here, wife.”