Chapter 44
She lets me take her to work, but the drive is silent. She barely even said any words to Odin when we dropped him off at my place for the day. I might be on thin ice in July, but we shared a bed last night, and for that, I’m grateful.
She’s prepping her station when I enter my office and remove the wooden box from the shelf. The one with Clyde’s letters for his daughter. This wasn’t how I planned to give it to her, but this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. Whether or not the timing is right, she deserves to have it.
WHEN KELLY GETS ENGAGED
I tap the corner of the envelope on my desktop until I finally get the nerve to stand up and walk it over to her station. I breathe a sigh of relief when she’s not there, then set it neatly on the countertop where I know she’ll see it.
I had a long session this morning, but we finished up at three, and I’ve barely left my office since.
I looked up several times while tattooing, hoping to see her gazing back at me, but it never happened.
She never glanced in my direction. Not once did I feel her eyes on me. It has me fucking rattled.
I open my desk drawer and peek at the black velvet box, then close it again.
Open the drawer.
Close the drawer.
Open the drawer.
Fuck . . . Close the drawer.
I’ve been dying to see her wear it for so long that it’s on her finger in my dreams. But I’ll own my mistakes.
I fucked up on this one. She was right about what she said yesterday; I took her choice.
Her agency. Something that is precious to her.
I want to make it up to her. Not to apologize, but to respect her.
To ask before taking. To give her the chance to say yes.
I gave her the letter this morning, and it wasn’t there anymore while I was tattooing my client. I can’t tell if she’s just making me sweat or if I’ve truly broken something that can’t be repaired.
The calendar on the computer screen shows she’s wrapping up an appointment now. Which gives me twenty minutes before her next client comes in.
Twenty minutes.
Open the drawer.
This time, I allow my fingers to skim over the soft velvet as I pull it out and set it in front of me on my desk. Opening the box, I inhale. I had it designed over a year ago and finally made the last payment a few months back.
On a simple gold band rests a dazzling pear-shaped diamond, with a few smaller stones clustered around it.
It’s a beautiful harmony of effortless elegance and striking sophistication.
I tilt the box, and the stone catches the overhead lights, ricocheting tiny sparkles across the wall.
It’s a unique design that is hers alone, made to exist on her finger or not at all.
I’ll leave that up to her, give her that option, because I’m going to honor what she told me last night. I’m done making her decisions. I’m giving her agency back.
I close the box and take out my phone, sending her a text message.
When you have a minute, can I see you in the office?
Air rushes out of my lungs after I hit send; I’m really doing this. I owe it to Kelly. I glimpse at the photo of Clyde on the wall; I owe it to him too.
When she walks in, I stand, hovering my hand over the velvet box and closing it in my fist. She shuts the door behind her with a soft click while I circle the desk. Kelly stands in front of me, arms crossed. Closed off and still pissed. Valid.
I hold the box between us, and her eyes turn into saucers. She opens her mouth to speak, but I go first.
“This isn’t an apology. It’s not to make up for what I did,” I say. “It can’t undo what I’ve already done.”
She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t whisper. She hardly breathes.
“I married you without your permission,” I say, admitting what I’ve done out loud. We both deserve to hear those words said without any excuses to follow. I don’t regret marrying her, but I regret breaking her trust.
“I thought I was fixing something, but instead I broke something else. I didn’t stop to think about what I was taking from you by making that choice for you.”
She swallows. “You’re proposing?”
“I’m giving you your agency back.” I open the ring box.
She blinks, and the sparkles from the ring reflect in her rich-green eyes.
“Taking this ring doesn’t mean you forgive me.
I want to give you the chance to choose the future I forced you into.
To choose the life I plan to give you. Maybe not right now, but in some version of our future together .
. . choose me back, the way I choose you.
Not because I made the decision, but because you did. ”
A beat of silence settles around us.
“What if I say no?” she asks.
The question hollows out my chest. I gulp down my fear, not letting myself look down at my feet to hide from her glare. “If you say no, then you say no. I’ll still be yours.”
Her gaze leaves the ring and focuses on me. Like allowing me to look into her eyes is the last favor she’ll ever grant me. She pins me with a glare. “Are you going to say it?”
I lower my chin. “Say what?”
“You know what.”
That I love her.
Yeah, I want to say it. I want to say it so fucking bad it feels like it’s going to crawl up my throat whether I like it or not. I want to fall at her feet and recite all the things I love about her even if it takes me all day.
“Not yet.”
She nods, swallowing back tears. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not fair to you. You’re allowed to still be angry,” I say.
“Even if you feel the same way about me as I feel about you . . . We both know you don’t want to say those words to me today.
It would be forcing your hand again, and I refuse to put you in that position .
. . And truthfully, I might be tough, Chaos, but I’m not strong enough to say those words to you and not hear them echoed back. ”
It would destroy me.
This has to be on her time, not mine. I won’t do that to her twice.
“Thank you,” she replies, her voice hushed.
She steps closer and takes the box from me and closes the lid with a soft click. She doesn’t put it on but doesn’t give it back. And that’s some fucking hope.
“This isn’t yes,” she states.
I nod. “I understand.”
She walks out and I let her. No more cages. No leashes. No binding documents. This time, she only comes back to me if she wants to. If she chooses me. It’s up to her.
It’s toward the end of the day when Casper knocks on my door and steps in, then shuts the door behind him and drops into the chair across from my desk.
Finally. I’ve been waiting to catch up with him all day about the information he found, but almost every one of his back-to-back appointments ran long.
He gets right down to business. “Found him.” He tosses his phone on my desk, and I pick it up, staring at the screen. This can’t be right.
“Hospice?”
“Billy’s not our guy.” Casper sits back in the chair, getting comfortable. “I ran background, checked care records, there’s nothing. It’s a dead end.”
“You’re going to have to sell me on that one,” I say. “He could have somebody.”
He shakes his head. “I did a deep dive on that fucker. He’s an asshole, yeah, but he’s been in hospice for like six months. The dude is on his deathbed. That letter you got? I think that’s all it is. A letter. Amends. Whatever you want to call it.”
I scrub a hand down my face. No fucking way.
“I looked into Jason.”
My gaze snaps to his.
“I went over and talked with his neighbors, asked them if he was around the night those photos were taken.”
“What are you, fucking Dick Tracy?” The guy knows how to find out information, that’s for sure. Casper is skilled when it comes to digging up dirt, and his observation skills are unmatched.
“No, asshole. I’m just really fucking charming.”
I roll my eyes. He does have a weird way of getting people to talk.
“Anyway, they said he was gone on a work trip. They collected his mail for him.”
“So, it wasn’t him?”
Casper shakes his head. “Not necessarily. There’s a hotel straight out from you. With balconies. Guess what else the neighbors said? He has a fucking drone.”
Leaning forward, I prop both elbows on my desk and massage my temples. “Wait, Kelly showed a picture of Jason to Rosa. She said it wasn’t him.”
There’s a knock at my door. “Later!” I shout. Probably Frankie telling me she’s heading out and asking if there’s anything I need before she leaves. I’ve been waiting for this conversation all damn day, I don’t want any interruptions.
“Well, maybe Rosa didn’t get a good look at him! Maybe she doesn’t remember. The height lined up. The description lined up. Clean cut? At a tattoo expo? Come on, man.”
“Shit.” Kelly had it right. It was Jason. I’ve let her down a second time.
Casper kicks up his feet on my desk like he owns the place. He doesn’t, but he’s earned the right to act like he does after getting this info.
“But what’s his motive?”
Casper shrugs. “Revenge . . . What would you do if some asshole walked in and sabotaged your relationship with Kelly?”
I’d burn the world to ash.
Goddamn it. I chose the wrong guy and left her exposed to him. Vulnerable. I got so caught up in my own hatred toward Billy that I let it cloud my judgment. I swallow down some of the anger, but I can feel it climbing up the back of my neck like flames.
“You’re sure it’s Jason?” Figure I should double-check before I commit homicide.
“I’m sure enough that I wouldn’t let Kelly sleep alone tonight.”
I scrub a hand down my face. This should incite fear in me, but it doesn’t.
It’s fury running through my veins. Rage. Rage at Jason. Rage at myself for not listening to her, not seeing what was right in front of me.
“Okay, then,” I say.
Casper cocks a brow. “You gonna tell her?”
“I’ll tell her when I’m finished.”
“Hey.” He lowers his feet from the desk. “Are you going to do something you’ll regret?”
That makes me chuckle. “I won’t regret this. But will you stay with her until I’m done?” I stand, grabbing my wallet and phone. Shit, I missed a couple text messages.
“Sure thing.”
“Anything else I should know?” I ask, hoping there aren’t any surprises when I show up at his house to beat him senseless.
“Yeah,” he drawls with a smirk. “What the fuck is on Kelly’s finger?”