Chapter Twenty #2
“He made me a bit uncomfortable, that’s all,” I say awkwardly.
Marcus studies my face. Then he walks over to Alan. His eyes are icy with dislike. “I warned you,” he says. “Pack your things. You’re done.”
I gasp. Marcus is firing Alan because I said he made me uncomfortable? Talk about overreact!
I step forward, embarrassed, take Marcus’s hand, and pull him away so I can talk to him. “Honestly,” I insist, “it wasn’t that bad. I can’t be the cause of a man losing his job.”
Marcus fixes me with a hard gaze, and I stop talking. “It’s not the first time this has happened,” he states. “One of the girls who works in the cowshed has complained about him, and he’s been warned.”
“You’re taking a milkmaid’s word over mine?” Alan glares at Neil. “You fucking told him?”
“Damn straight,” Neil says.
“We don’t employ men who make women feel uncomfortable,” Marcus states. “Get your stuff and leave, before I call the police.”
Alan looks incredulous, as if he can’t believe this is really happening. But Marcus’s expression is stern, and in the end, Alan turns and walks away, muttering under his breath, and disappears around the house. After a moment, we hear an engine revving up, and then his car roars away.
The three remaining men exchange glances.
“Sorry,” Jacob says to Marcus, “you were right. I should have got rid of him as soon as Neil told me.”
“You gave him the benefit of the doubt,” he says. “It wasn’t your fault the guy’s an asshole.”
“Are you okay?” Jacob asks me.
“I’m fine, honestly.”
Marcus takes my hand. “Good. I think we’ll get going, though. You’ve seen your puppies,” he teases. “And I’m hungry.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” I joke. I shake Jacob’s hand. “Thank Ruth for me.”
“Will do. Hope you enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.”
“Go and get in the car,” Marcus says. “I’ll just be a sec.”
I say goodbye to Neil and go over and get in the car. I close the door and sit there, watching the guys talking. Marcus is younger than both of them, but it’s clear who’s in charge.
After a quick conversation, he shakes their hands, then strides over to the Bentley. He gets in, and moments later we’re on the road, heading back to the farm.
“I’m sorry I questioned your decision,” I say quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that in front of the others.”
His eyebrows rise. “I don’t care about that. You should always tell me what you’re feeling and thinking. You didn’t know the whole story, that’s all.”
“So he’s caused trouble before?”
“Yeah. We employed him because he has four kids and his wife is pregnant again, and the guy practically got down on his knees and begged Jacob for a job. We only found out after we’d hired him that he was fired from his previous job for inappropriate behavior.
When the girl who works in the cowshed complained, Jacob reprimanded him, and he broke down and begged Jacob not to fire him.
So Jacob said he’d give him one last chance.
” Marcus snorts. “I told him it would come back and bite him in the ass.”
“I thought you were just playing the knight in shining armor,” I try to joke.
“Oh, I was,” he says. “Nobody gets to make you feel like that.” He glowers. He means every word.
“I can handle myself,” I whisper, my voice little more than a squeak.
“I know you can. That doesn’t mean you should have to.
” He glances at me, reaches out, and takes my hand.
“You’re my wife. That doesn’t mean you belong to me.
And it doesn’t mean I get to tell you what to do with your life.
It does mean that whatever you choose to do, I’ll be standing beside you, supporting you. ”
I stare at him, shocked into silence by his devoted words.
“I want to be your best friend,” he continues, “and the first person you turn to if you’re in trouble and need help.
I want to be everything to you. I’ve loved you for ten years.
I’m exultant that you married me. And I’m not going anywhere.
I don’t know how to make you believe that except by asking you to give me a chance. ”
He turns onto our drive and, only a few moments later, he pulls up outside the farmhouse.
I press my fingers to my lips, emotional, and annoyed with myself because of it. I don’t usually cry easily, and yet since I’ve met him, I’ve been in tears nearly every day.
But it’s not because he makes me sad. I know the reason why.
It’s because I’ve spent months, even years, squashing my emotions into a big trunk and making it secure with a huge padlock.
I’ve trained myself not to feel. But Marcus has come along like a thief in the night, picked the lock, opened Pandora’s box, and let all those emotions come flying out.
“Come on,” he says, turning off the engine. “Let’s go inside.”
I get out, fighting against tears, and he takes my hand and leads me into the house. We take off our shoes, and then he leads me through to the kitchen. He takes a bottle of water out of the fridge, unscrews the top, and passes it to me.
I have a few mouthfuls, then give it back to him to replace the top. “That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?”
“No. This is my answer to everything.” He pulls me into his arms and gives me a hug.
It’s such a lovely thing to say that my emotions bubble up again and spill over. I start crying, and he sighs. “Come here.” He bends and lifts me, takes me into the living room, and lowers down onto the sofa with me on his lap.
I curl up there, my arms around his neck, and sob for a while. He rubs my back and murmurs things like, “It’s okay,” and, “everything’s going to be all right.”
Eventually, the wave of emotion eases, and my tears dry up. He passes me a tissue from the box on the coffee table, and I wipe my eyes and blow my nose.
“Better?” he asks.
I nod and rub my nose. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m prepared for some hormonal reactions.” He smiles.
He means if I’m pregnant. I’ve thought about it so much over the last few months, but for the first time since we came to the farm, I let myself think that it could have happened already.
A baby could be forming inside me right now.
We could have made a whole new person. It’s so shocking, so miraculous, that it makes my head spin.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmurs, and kisses me briefly. “I want you to be able to talk to me about anything.”
It’s late in the afternoon, and the room is filled with honey-colored sunshine. It’s pleasantly warm, and it smells of homemade bread and the coq au vin that Ruth put in the slow cooker this morning.
It occurs to me that despite being a businessman and one of the directors of a huge company, Marcus isn’t on his laptop all the time, nor is he constantly taking calls.
He’s done his best to give all his attention to me on this vacation.
Right now, his gaze is fixed on me, and his cognac eyes are patient and calm.
I’ve assumed all along that he married me because I turned him down ten years ago, and also because he knew I’d asked Caesar to donate for me, and he’s tired of coming second to his brother.
I’m sure that’s part of it. But is it possible that he could be for real?
He’s insisted over and over again that he loves me. That he wants to be with me.
Is it possible that I chose the right brother after all?
“I want a guarantee,” I whisper.
He tips his head to the side. “What kind of guarantee?”
“I don’t know. That it’ll work, I suppose. That you won’t get bored with me. That you won’t cheat on me. That you won’t leave. And I know it’s not possible to promise those things, because none of us knows the future. And that terrifies me.”
I swallow hard. How can I explain this better?
“I thought Cory was the one,” I say. “I thought I loved him, and that he loved me. I moved to another country to be with him. And when he cheated on me… I can’t explain how it just crucified me.
Now… I’m not sure if it was because my feelings for him were so deep.
I’m not sure I even loved him. But I was so committed, so convinced we’d be together forever, that when it came to an end, it was as if my whole world came tumbling down. ”
His eyelids lower a little; he doesn’t like me talking about Cory. I’m not sure whether it’s because he’s my ex or if it’s more that Cory hurt me. Maybe both.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I’m just trying to explain what an effect it had on me.
I think… it’s almost like I have PTSD from it.
I relived that moment I walked in and found him in bed with someone over and over again.
And I blamed myself. It was impossible not to.
I told myself it had happened because I’m inexperienced, or just plain bad in bed.
I’m so frightened of being hurt again. And it’s really hard to believe that someone like you could fall for someone like me. How do I take that leap of faith?”