Chapter 12
Alexander
I had watched hostile takeovers.
I have worked in rooms full of men who intended to harm my company.
I had watched my competitors attempt to tarnish my name, and I had survived each and every one.
Nothing frightened me as much as Clara did, standing three feet away, tears in her eyes.
And this time there was nowhere to hide.
No money.”
At work? Nope.
Not under the Vale name.
And certainly not behind quiet.”
She had the old letter in her hand.
The one I wrote six years ago.
The one I was a coward enough to give to her.
Is this real?” she enquired.
I looked at the envelope.
Her name was still on the door.
Clara
One word.
One woman.
The person I'd spent years thinking I didn't need.
Yes.
Her fingers clutched the page tighter.
Is this what you wrote when we were married?"
“Yes.
"And you never told me that?"
“Nope.”
She laughed.
It wasn't a joke.
“Of course you didn't,” she said.
That hurt more that it should have.
Because she got it right.
I had spent six years blundering into the same mistake in different ways.
I had loved her in the dark.
Secretly protected her.
She always took care of her.
And somehow I convinced myself none of those things counted if I never voiced the words.
I had been a fool.
A rich one.
That’s a bloody one.
But still a dumbass.
Clara opened the seal of the mail.
I knew every word by heart.
I can recall composing it at three in the morning while she slept in the next room.
I could recall looking at her through the open doorway.
She'd been pregnant then.
Youthful.
Spent.
Gorgeous.
And entirely ignorant that I was falling for her.
I wrote,
I don't know when it occurred.
Maybe that was the first time you saw me as someone who wasn't a billionaire.
Maybe it was the way you smiled when you talked about our baby.
Perhaps that was the moment I realised I had already planned the rest of my life for you.
Clara set down her book.
Her lips quivered.
“You cared for me?”
I heard the query, but only just.
"I did."
"Did?
I swallowed.
'I do.'"
She glanced up.
I didn’t turn away for once.
Clara, I adored you from the beginning.
Her eyes brimmed with tears.
Then why?”
And there it was.
The question that had followed me into every room I had been in since she left me.
Why do you do that?
I was scared.
Because I had been brought up to believe love was weakness.
My father told me that people would use what you cared about against you.
I trusted him.
When enemies started closing in on my company, I was sure that anyone close to me could be a target.
And she was the nearest of all.
So I did what I thought would keep her safe.
I pushed her back.
I threw myself into work.
I made her believe that my absence was natural.
I spent my time giving her expensive presents rather than spending time with her.
I recruited people to make her life easy, but all she wanted was me.
And every time she asked for more, I convinced myself she didn't know any better.
The truth was more horrible.
I didn't get it.
I had not realised that a lady could inhabit a mansion and still be utterly alone.
I worried that loving you publicly would put you in danger,” I said.
Clara looked at me.
“So you tricked me into thinking you didn’t love me.
“Yes.”
“You thought that would save me?
“I thought distance would work.
She hardened her face.
“No, it didn’t.”
"I know.
"You made me spend six years wondering what was wrong with me."
My chest grew tense.
'There was nothing wrong with you.
“You made me think I wasn't pretty enough. Interesting. Enough value.”
“Clara—
Naw.
Her voice broke.
"You don't get to cut this off.
I shut my mouth.
She had the right to say that.
Each word.
All the charges.
All the awful things I had made her carry.
"I saw you choose work over our family," she continued. I saw Noah holding on for you. “I saw you walk past me like I was furniture.
I know that.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I know that.”
She swiped her cheek in anger.
“And the worst?”
I didn't say anything.
She looked right into my eyes.
“I loved you always.
That almost devastated me.
I moved one step closer to her.
She recoiled.
So I went.
No chasing.
No, she thought. Don't grasp her hand.
No begging for pardon.
This time is different.
I should have told you the truth,” I said. Every day.
"Yes."
“I should have believed you.”
"Yes."
“I should have let you stay.
Her eyes went soft for half a second.
And then the sadness returned.
You didn't.
“No.” “Same old story.
I gazed down on the letter.
Only the last sentences were left.
Words that I had written but never had the guts to say.
“I married you because I could not see my son growing up without you.”
Clara gasped for breath.
“I went on.
“I stayed because I couldn’t imagine my life with either one of you.”
The room was quiet.
I'd spent six years thinking silence could protect the ones I loved.
Now I knew it.
Silence had almost ruined the only family that counted.
Clara gingerly folded the letter.
Then she turned to me.
Her voice was but a whisper.
“If you loved me, why did you make me think you didn’t?”
I had no smart answer.
No excuse.
Not a billion-dollar fix.
So for the first time in my life I told her the only truth I had left.
“Because I was a coward.
Her eyes filled up again.
And this time I let her see mine.
I loved her.
She was always my love.
I just hadn't been brave enough to love her in a way she could see it.
And now I had one chance to show I finally understood the difference.
But would Clara give me that chance?
That was hers.