Chapter 45
45
Cat
W e’ve only been back from Monaco for a week, but Brenda Archer is here. If she knows we’re faking this marriage, she hasn’t said anything, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s checking up on us. I’m sure as hell not bringing it up, though. And after the trip, I think Theo and I might be selling this marriage better than ever. We don’t just spend time in public together. The Monday after our return, he came home and made dinner. Same with the next night, and the next night. The first night we were back, he carried me upstairs, and I slept in his bed. Now that we’ve opened that box, I don’t think we can close it. I don’t want to close it.
I might have thought sharing a bed was awkward, but that was before Theo. Before he held me close to his chest and woke me with his face between my legs. He’s insatiable. Hot and dirty and better than I ever imagined.
Nineteen-year-old Cat would have laughed at the sheer joy of calling this man mine.
Twenty-eight-year-old me realizes it’ll break me when this ends. And yet I can’t stop. Every time he kisses me, I kiss him back. Every time he slides his hand over my skin, I go up in flames.
And now his mom is here, and I’m just waiting for her to confront me about the marriage.
“I need to clean,” Brenda announces when she walks into the kitchen.
I can’t look his mother in the eye as I make my coffee. She knows, and I hate lying to her.
“What do you mean, you need to clean? It’s warm out today. We should go to the park or something.” I have to study later, but it might be nice to take a day off and see some of NYC. Now that I’m not scrambling to make money for groceries, I’d like to explore more. Check some things off my list, maybe.
“You live here. You know he doesn’t have staff. Have you been inside the dining room? It’s never been used. It feels like a morgue. And that awful living room with all the white couches.” She shakes her head, and I hide a smile. “There’s a beer stain on one. He just tossed a throw over it.”
“All right.” I sit down at the island with her. “I’ll help you clean, but no more than a few hours.”
“I don’t understand why he won’t just hire people. This place is massive.” She waves a hand in the air.
“You know why,” I say quietly. “He doesn’t want anyone to go through what you went through with my family.”
“It wasn’t that bad.” She levels me a look. “Worse for you than it was for me.”
I look down, my shoulders tense. I don’t want to talk about this with her. She’s too kind and too knowing, and Theo and I are lying to her. “It was bad for both of us.”
“I made my peace with it. Your father didn’t hit me or anything. It was a job. A job that provided a place to live for my family and a steady income for years. Besides, I haven’t worked since I turned forty-seven, when your husband made me quit.”
The way she says your husband makes me want to throw up, or maybe cry on her shoulder and tell her that we’re lying to her. “He gave you all his money, didn’t he?” I look up at her. Her eyes are green, like both her son’s, and always too knowing.
“He did. Foolish boy. I told him to save it. He told me he’d make more. I guess he did.” She smiles, and I laugh softly.
“Yeah. I guess he did.”
“Have you told him about your parents?” she asks.
“A little. Not all.” I get up to put my coffee cup in the sink. A wife would have told him. If we really were together, I would have bared my soul completely to Theo.
“Why not?”
I start cleaning the dishes from this morning so I don’t have to look at her. I guess Theo did the ones from last night, because the sink is mostly empty.
“I don’t think he’s ready to hear it. And I don’t like talking about it. It’s not just their fault, you know.”
“Ah,” she says knowingly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You blame yourself. Just like Theo does.”
“A better person would have left that family years ago. I liked the luxury. I was comfortable.”
“Breaking ties is difficult,” she says gently. “Starting over can be impossible. You should tell him.”
“Sure,” I say. I start drying mugs. “I’ll tell him.” Even I don’t believe myself.
Two hours later, I’m on a ladder, trying to take the drapes down in the Miami Vice living room, as Brenda calls it. We found a ladder in a storage room off the gym, along with hooks and hammers and nails.
Brenda insists we need to wash the curtains before we do the windows.
“I can’t reach this stupid hook.” My fingers scrabble on the finial. “We need a taller ladder.”
“I’m taller than you. Let me do it.”
“You are not getting on this stupid ladder,” I grunt. “You’re not supposed to be cleaning at all. You’re a guest.” Which is why, under Brenda’s direction, I’ve swept the floor and taken off the cushion covers and vacuumed the baseboards. And this is just one room. My arms twinge, as if in anticipation of the ache to come.
“Catherine. You’re not going to reach it. I’m five-ten. You’re five-four.”
I sigh. “Fine. I see where your sons get their height from, I guess.”
She climbs the ladder, and I hold it at the base. I’m sweaty and dusty, and there’s lint stuck in my mouth. Blech.
The ladder wobbles, and I tighten my hold. “Careful,” I tell Brenda as she reaches for the finial. “Don’t fall, or we’re never going to finish all the rooms.”
“Don’t sound so sour, Cat. Cleaning can be good for the soul.”
“And here I was thinking you’d never want to do it again.”
She laughs. “Well, you’d think, but then I saw the state of my son’s house.” She manages to lift the brass rod from the hook.
“Shit, this is heavy.” She takes the full weight of the curtain and lurches forward.
“Drop it,” I say.
She drops it and falls back. The curtain crashes to the floor, but it’s too late. She stumbles, and I watch in slow motion as she falls off the ladder while I’m standing there dumbly.
“Ohmygod.” I’m at her side in an instant, pulling her up. She winces and bats at my hands. “Cat, I’m fine.” She stands and winces again. “Okay, my knee does hurt a little.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, panic making my voice high. “I’m so sorry. I should have done the curtains, not you.”
“What’s going on here?” Theo’s voice comes from the doorway, and my head whips around.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “Your mom is fine.”
He rushes forward and half carries her to the couch.
“It’s just my knee,” she says. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”
“You’re lucky it was just a knee. You could have been seriously hurt,” I say.
Theo grunts. “Let me get you some ice. And then I’m calling a doctor. ”
I check her knee, and Brenda bats at my hand. “Stop fussing,” she says.
Theo returns with ice, his face unreadable. He manipulates Brenda’s knee with a frown before he stands and says, “We need to talk. In my study.”
I follow him down the hall to where the door of his study is open. It’s beautiful. Full of plants and old books. There’s a huge wooden desk and a shiny laptop. Some papers neatly stacked.
“Shut the door,” he bites out. I shut it and lean back. He’s pacing the room, his body rigid, his face set.
“It’s fine. She’s fine. It looked scary, but I had her drop the—”
“What the hell was that?” He gestures toward the living room.
I freeze, pressing myself against the door. “Cleaning,” I say slowly. This isn’t the Theo I’ve seen over the last two months. This is Theo from the day we got married.
“Cleaning. You had my mother cleaning.” Anger simmers in his eyes as he stares at me.
We’re right back to where we started. This is proof that people don’t change. I should summon anger, but all I can summon is a crawling sense of betrayal.
“No. I didn’t. It was her idea.” The reason sounds weak even as I say it.
“She should never have to clean again,” he bursts out. “After what she went through with you and your horrible family, she should live a life of leisure forever. I can’t believe you, Catherine.”
“Went through with me ? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I press a hand to my chest like it will stop my pounding heart.
“She’s been through hell.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “The way your parents treated her. The way you treated her. I tried to look beyond it.” He shakes his head, face bitter. “I was falling for you. Despite what I knew of you from the past.”
“You were falling for me?” I latch on to the words, even though I shouldn’t. I should focus on how he still thinks the worst of me, even after all this time together .
He nods, mouth twisting unhappily. “I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have. But I’m weak where you’re concerned.”
“What a confession of love,” I say bitterly. “I didn’t realize you hated me this much, Theo.” I feel like I’m floating. This isn’t happening. I’m going to wake up and discover this is all a dream. Because after everything I’ve told him, he still sees me as a spoiled brat. “Why?” I ask when he doesn’t respond. “Tell me what I did to deserve your hatred.”
I think I know, but I want him to say it. This marriage is a farce. I’m a fool. Looking for love in all the wrong places, Cat Peterson. Again.
“I don’t hate you.”
I snort. “You’re a liar. I told you all about my family and my past, and you still see what you want to see. So tell me.”