Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
How was it possible to feel both relief and raging self-hatred at the same time?
“Why can’t it be enough, Gideon? Why can’t you be enough for me—I never wanted more from you than what you—the real you, the one buried deep—were willing to give me.
The corporate Gideon who is cold and removed—I cried myself to sleep wishing he would go away and the real you would come home.
I’ve seen it with my own eyes—though not as often as I’d like; you’re thoughtful, protective, generous, and you have the potential to be an amazing husband and father—”
Those two words—husband, father—struck him as no other words could; they were sacred duties, meant to be lived with honor and sacrifice, and he’d failed disastrously so far.
“You will only ever be a fucking failure, boy…no one will ever give a shit about you…you aren’t worth it….”
Nasty, insidious, carved into his chest, his father’s words burned through his mind.
“Kendra, I will never be a nice guy, that isn’t me, I wasn’t built that way—”
“I don’t want a nice guy,” she cried, her chest heaving, “I want a good man.”
Gideon groaned, thrusting his fingers through his hair. “What’s the fucking difference, Kendra?”
She went quiet, her expression shifting from riled to thoughtful as she calmed her breathing, her gaze never leaving his.
“A nice guy is the one you wave to and smile at as you walk by, the one who refills the coffee machine in the office, and makes sure everyone has a pen in a board meeting. A nice guy waits with you for your Uber to make sure you’re safe.
The nice guy is kind words and gestures that make people comfortable around him.
He makes sad eyes at articles about starving children in war-torn countries, then clicks ‘share’ on someone else’s online posts about it.
He’s considerate, polite, thinks before he speaks, and he never starts trouble because he wants everyone to be happy. ”
Gideon gave an uncharacteristic snort. “Yeah, that sure as fuck isn’t me.”
Kendra reached out and cupped his face, and he fought the urge—tooth and nail—to not lean into her touch. He didn’t deserve her comfort, her kindness, her sweetness.
“I already said I didn’t want the nice guy, Gideon,” she said, her voice soft as she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his chin.
“I want the good man, the loyal, honorable man, the man who sees a problem, fixes it, then makes the one who broke it take responsibility. I want the man who steps up when no one else will, the man who demands respect even when facing down bigger, meaner opponents. I want the man who sees the starving children in war-zones, sends food and supplies, then finds justice for them and their families. I want the man who doesn’t offer empty platitudes to make people feel better, because he only ever says what he means, and can be trusted to always speak truth no matter how it hurts.
I want the man who cares about my happiness so much that he’ll bleed just to see me smile.
I want the man who is so obsessed with protecting me that he stops being Mr. Nice Guy the second my safety is threatened—that is the man I want…
the good man who is willing to do bad for the people he loves. ”
He swallowed, flustered, unsure of how to respond to such beautiful warmth.
She pulled his face down until he was peering into her eyes, only inches from her, and the love that flowed from her filled him, making the beast inside him roll over and groan in contentedness.
His wife was truly the most loving, compassionate person he’d ever known…and he was taking advantage of that.
Fuck being the nice guy; he would do whatever he needed to, use whatever tricks he had in his book to keep his wife right where she belonged.
And that made him utterly unforgivable.
Yet, he remained unrepentant.
Was he the good man she spoke about, he pondered. Could he be those things for her?
If it meant living the rest of his life with his wife and their child, yes, he would fucking be whoever she wanted him to be.
“You’re a worthless piece of shit….”
“I still love you, Gideon. I still see a man worthy of being loved….”
Two different voices, two warring intentions—but he was only one man.
“A man worthy of being loved….”
Once numb, his heart stuttered to a rattling start—and, God, he was desperate to keep it running, feeling…keeping him living.
“What do you need from me, Kendra?” he asked, desperation bleeding from the open wounds in his chest. “What must I do to earn your forgiveness, to prove to you that despite what I have done over the last three years, that I do love you, that I do want to spend forever with you—” he pressed a gentle hand against her belly, making her gasp—“and our baby?”
She placed her hand over his, forcing out the chill in his fingers and settling the trembling he didn’t even know he was doing.
“What do I need to say, what do you need to hear to convince you to come home, to let me start over?”
He could see the wheels spinning behind her beautiful warm-brown eyes, her mind cranking as she considered everything he’d said since he’d appeared behind her as she spoke with Cora, and all he’d said that night he’d driven her out into the cold.
Finally, she replied, “There isn’t anything you can say, Gideon. Words are cheap, they mean nothing to me.”
Terror, like a bone-jarring slam into a wall, hit him, making his breath stall.
No! She didn’t mean that—she couldn’t! He refused to believe they were over.
“Because up until a few nights ago, it wasn’t your words that dug the deepest wounds, it was how you treated me—what you did and didn’t do.
With your actions, you showed me, Gideon, that I meant less to you than your next business deal, than your next phone call, or board meeting—how you treated me showed me that your time was too precious for me, that your attention was too costly, that your affection was too extravagant.
You showed me with your neglect, your coldness, your refusal to show any real emotion, and your determination to have a baby on your own timetable—sex only for the purpose of procreation—that I didn’t deserve even the most basic of human rights; the right to be loved and to love freely. ”
Every word tore into him with vicious teeth, and he would bleed out and be grateful for the quick death.
But he refused to let all he ever wanted slip through his fingers.
“Then what do I need to do to prove to you that, though I’ve done you wrong, I love you, and I want our family?” he demanded roughly, his voice frayed and torn. His hand against her belly trembled slightly, and that little boy who feared showing weakness reared up, terrified that she might see.
He couldn’t care, not right then, and maybe not ever.
Fuck, he’d never been so frantic in his need before.
Not once in all his years had he felt such agonizing hopelessness, such delirious, urgent longing.
Whatever he wanted, he got it—with money, influence, or sheer will.
But this…he couldn’t buy it, demand it, or force it—and he would die without it.
“Please,” he implored brokenly, the arrogant billionaire brought to his knees by his woman. “Please, Kendra, let me make it up to you, let me show you that I am that good man you want.”
The tears flowing down her face sliced through him. He kissed her wet cheek, one then the other, the salt of her sorrow bitter against his lips.
“I d-don’t know, Gideon…” she sobbed. “I don’t know. I just…I need time to think….”
And so, he didn’t fight her when she pushed away and got to her feet. He didn’t follow when she disappeared from his sight. And he didn’t beg for her to come back, to give him an answer, to put him out of his misery.
Because she was asking for time…and he could give her that.
Even if he suffocated for needing her to breathe.
Even if the beast was growling, displeased, wanting, more than anything, to curl itself around its mate.