Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Marcus
I clock Hallie pulling on my socks, a small smile gracing her lips, as I go to turn off the lights.
With the room dark, I slide under the covers, reaching out and pulling her into my side. Her warm body curls toward mine, and I’m only slightly disappointed that I can’t feel her bare legs against my own as she throws a thigh over mine.
“Is this okay?” I ask into her hair, needing to make sure.
She’d scared the shit out of me earlier, the way her body had frozen beneath my fingertips. I’d been worried that it was done between us. Had been afraid that she was going to call in our rules and end it all before the wedding had even happened, before I’d had a chance to fix things. But I’d trusted her when she’d said she needed to slow down, that she’d been overwhelmed. It’d been the right move for more reasons than she’d realized.
“More than okay. I want your hands on me,” she answers, her voice slightly muffled from where her face is pressed up against my chest.
I squeeze her hip gently in response and shift us both until my body is wrapped protectively around hers. Spooning, for God’s sake. There goes the snuggling rule again.
When Hallie doesn’t protest, I let the hand that’s on her hip travel beneath the edge of her shirt, my palm coming to wrap beneath her ribs, my hot skin on hers. With the extra contact, the extra warmth, her muscles finally give up the last bit of tension they were holding on to.
And my guilt grows.
It grows knowing that I’m the reason she’s so on edge. That it’s the way I treated her in the past that’s not letting her move forward now, with or without me. That it’s because I’ve been selfish with her, wanting her time and her body to myself without having to deal with all the old hurt between us, that she’s not okay tonight.
Hallie opening up to me—to us—last night cost her something I can’t easily repay, not without causing her harm in the process.
Because I might’ve tried to bring up the situation with her dad, but I haven’t pushed it, haven’t wanted to risk it. I’m a selfish asshole for having avoided it for this long. For having avoided it after realizing that this thing between us wouldn’t end as easily as we’d intended it to.
Hallie’s soft and pliant in my arms when she speaks. “I’m kind of surprised you haven’t said anything about dinner. That you haven’t asked about my apartment or my plans…”
I’m silent behind her for a long time, my throat thick. “I’m curious about everything when it comes to you.”
“You are?” I shouldn’t be hurt by the quiet surprise in her voice, but I am.
“Of course.”
“Why?” she persists, albeit gently.
“Because what we’re doing, it’s more than any list of rules,” I reply, and while it’s not the detailed answer she was probably hoping for, it’s something. It’s more . “But I didn’t think this weekend was the right time for that.”
We’re in a king-sized bed with multiple pillows, and yet we’re sharing one. From not wanting to sit next to each other at a table to wanting to be close enough to share a single pillow with ease, that’s where we’re at. That’s how it’s changed. That’s how it’s more.
“Okay.” She snuggles back down into the ridiculous pillow we’re sharing.
My answer isn’t a lie.
I’m curious as hell about her life in Edinburgh and if she’s going to go back to it.
If she wants to go back to it.
What it’ll mean if she doesn’t.
And what it will mean for me if she does.
“We can talk about it now,” I offer, fear clawing at my heart, even as I know it’s the right thing to do.
“No,” she replies into the dark, breaking my turbulent thoughts. “We can talk properly when we get home.”
Hallie stills, obviously not having intended those specific words to leave her lips.
Home. The place where we stay together, on the same chunk of land, if not in the same bed, up until now. The place where we share meals and our spare time. The place where we’ve found each other again.
She’d called it home.
“Yeah,” I answer, voice slightly gruff. The anxiety that’d left Hallie not so long ago creeps its way toward me.
“Good.” And then, in a voice so soft I almost miss it, she says, “I miss talking to you.”
The room is silent once more as I start to stroke my fingers in small, relaxing circles on the skin of Hallie’s stomach, as much for her relaxation as it is for my own.
I can’t sleep, my mind racing while she rests in my arms, her skin warm and supple beneath my fingertips as I stroke along her stomach. In the near silence, my thoughts are loud, painfully so, as I take stock of my current predicament and the level of fucked I find myself in.
Home.
She’d called my house home. I’m unable to let it go, the words playing in my head until sleep’s no longer any type of option. And with good reason, it’s causing my anxiety to grow.
After my chat with Julian this morning, I’m more and more relieved that Hallie has slowed things down between us tonight. I’m not worthy of her trust, not yet.
Jules had been right when he’d confronted me earlier. It’s not fair that I’ve let things go this far with Hallie. That what’d started off as a way to work off our physical attraction had turned into more without either of us really being honest with the other.
I don’t blame her for not telling me about her life sooner—that she’s about to purchase an apartment in Edinburgh. That she has a place that she’s decided to make into a home for herself. That she has a full and whole life to return to, full of people who care for her and most likely want her back.
I can’t be mad about it because I’d been no better. If anything, I’d been worse. I’d been the one to initiate the rules, brokering a lack of communication between us.
And she deserves better. So much better than what I’m able to offer. It’s always been the case.
It had been the case when we were teenagers. When her father had personally delivered to me the one item that, surprisingly, had been left for me in her grandmother’s will.
Her engagement ring.
The ring Hallie had admired, along with the love story between her grandmother and her William. A love story of childhood sweethearts.
Hallie’s father might not have had the right to say what he did, but he hadn’t been wrong when he caught me sneaking out of his house and told me that his eighteen-year-old daughter deserved better. Had deserved more from life than to be engaged, let alone married at such a young age. That he and his ex-wife had messed her up enough, and she didn’t need to follow in their footsteps. Not when the love we had would likely fade with age and maturity.
He’d been wrong in assuming that I hadn’t loved her enough to give her the world, because that’s exactly what I’d done. I’d pushed Hallie toward the world and the adventure she’d always spoken of instead of pulling her toward me.
Uncomfortable in my own skin, I release Hallie gently and roll onto my back, pulling a discarded pillow from the floor to stack behind my head.
I check my phone, picking it up from where we’d left them on the nightstand.
It holds a single new notification.
I check on Hallie, ensuring she’s sleeping deeply beside me, before I open up my text chain with Johnathan Cairns.
Johnathan Cairns: Have you managed to make any progress?
It’s a message I’d received from him earlier in the day, one that I’d happily left on read. Tonight, though, the answer’s easy.
Marcus: Keep the money. I’m not interested.
As the words settle onto the screen, thousands of dollars slip through my fingertips, and I feel the most relaxed I have in weeks. I’ll figure out the business side of things—a way to fund our charitable commitment—because losing the woman next to me is the greater risk.
Now, I just need time. Time for me to have a conversation with Hallie, to put all my cards on the table so she can make an informed decision. I only hope she doesn’t decide to leave with her money and without me.
She shifts in her sleep, seeking me out in the giant bed.
For a single moment, I consider waking her and telling her about the money her dad’s been offering me. I can picture her sleepy smile as she opens her eyes. And then the surge of her anger and disappointment as I explain the mess I’ve created. The decision to wait, to hold off on this conversation until we’re home, until we have the time and space from this pressure cooker of an event, is easy.
I’ve spent my whole life building and fixing things. And I’m determined to fix this. I can wait a little longer to put it all on the line for her.