21. Vivian #2
In three years, Trent never made me feel as valued or cared for as Michael has in a matter of mere weeks.
He may go all alpha on me, but I’ve never felt less than with him, always the opposite.
With Michael, I feel validated, accepted, and loved.
I don’t think Trent knows the meaning of the word cherish.
He wanted to control me and mold me to his idea of what a woman should look and act like.
Michael isn’t interested in changing me; he wants me exactly the way I am.
I’ve been more open and vulnerable with him than I have with anyone else, Michael desires me and loves me, all the parts of me.
At least that’s how he makes me feel. Even if we ended tomorrow, I could never go back to being treated with less care than what he has given me.
He has shown me what unconditional love looks like, and that means even more coming from a man whom I wholeheartedly respect and admire.
He never lets me forget my worth, encourages me without fail, and is hellbent on making my life better.
He’s honest, loyal, and hot as fuck to boot.
How I ever let myself become downtrodden for so long and allowed someone in my life who brought me down instead of lifted me up I’ll never know.
Nobody deserves that kind of relationship and dare call it “love,” not when I’ve experienced what love is really supposed to look like.
I could never go back to that draining existence.
And I really hope Trent isn’t here to try to convince me otherwise.
Now he’s just an annoyance, like another unhappy customer to be dealt with.
“What do you want, Trent?” He doesn't deserve any pleasantries.
“Hello to you too, Vivian,” he drawls, draping his arm right next to mine on the bar where I’m working on the inventory books.
He’s standing way too close for my comfort, and I slide my clipboard farther down the bar, putting a couple barstools between us.
“Aww, don’t you miss me yet? You normally would have come crawling back to me by now,” he sneers, undeterred by my snort of disgust. The nerve of this man-child.
“You should crawl your way on out the door, Trent. Your side chick is probably waiting for you.”
“She didn’t really mean anything to me, Vivian.
Not like you.” Okay, time to shut this down.
If he thinks I’m merely jealous, we’ll be here all night.
And I’ve got a fiancé to go home to. If I tell him I’m seeing someone else, he’s still going to think he has a chance, that I’ll return to him, like I did time and time again. But those times are over now, for good.
“Well, I’ve got news for you, Trent. You don’t mean anything to me anymore either.” I stare him directly in the eyes.
“Really, Viv? After all that we’ve been through?
C’mon, you don’t really mean that.” He scoffs, but his voice raises, anger getting the better of him.
“You’ve always come back to me. Always! And I’ve always taken you back when you were done playing around with your latest toy.
The one time I mess around, you drop me? Way to double standard.”
Dude just isn’t getting it. He thinks it’s jealousy that’s keeping me away. The skepticism on my face must be apparent because his voice softens as he tries another tactic.
“Doesn’t matter. We love each other. We are always going to end up together; we always do. You know it and I know it.”
I sit back on the barstool and sigh loudly. I’m done with this. I’ve been done with this. What do I have to say to get him to leave?
“You know, the one thing I regret most is that it took me so damn long to figure out that this isn’t right for me. That you aren’t right for me,” I tell him, exasperation taking over my voice.
“Oh,” he says with a snarl, “you mean you had to go fuck a million guys but you always came back to this dick?” He grabs himself, and I shudder in revulsion.
How did I ever find him attractive? But apparently he doesn’t know how to read my body language as well as he used to.
“You miss this, don’t you, Viv? Who else is going to want you after all the guys you’ve had?
When you’re having a bad ‘fibro day.’” He air quotes and my face flames. “And can barely function?”
I can handle him thinking I’m a slut but the fibromyalgia reference stings.
Because there are more days than I care to admit that I’m afraid it’s going to take over my life.
But seeing how patient Michael is with his mother, and how tenderly he takes care of me when I’m hurting gives me hope.
I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t have to justify the pain.
All it takes is one look and Michael is there to help in whatever ways he can.
It makes me feel like I don’t have to face the bad days alone.
Not anymore.
“Back off, asshole, and leave me the fuck alone,“ I hiss at him, thankful that our remaining customers are in the dining room and not the bar area. Last thing Claire needs is a dramatic scene and someone to call the cops.
“Admit it, Viv, you’re not going to find anyone better than me.” Trent pushes the bar stools out of the way as he comes closer and the stench of cigarettes and whiskey hits me full on. Coughing, my eyes squeeze shut as I turn my head away in search of clean air.
That’s when I hear a low voice growl in warning, “She already has, asshole.” The voice sounds a lot like Michael’s, but far more cold and deadly than I’ve ever heard from him before.
A sharp grunt pierces the air, and my eyes fly open to see Michael’s hand roughly pulling Trent’s arm and twisting it behind his back.
“The only thing you need to know,” Michael says in a menacing tone, “is that you’re leaving right now if you want to keep all your limbs in good working order. ”
“Who the fuck is this?” Trent sputters, splitting his glances between Michael and me. Sweat beads on his forehead as he winces. Michael must be tightening his grip, and his eyes flash in warning as he leans in closer, inches away from Trent’s panicked face.
“I’m her husband, asshole. And I believe she told you to leave.” Trent’s eyes go wide, either from pain or shock. It would be almost comical if I wasn’t stumbling on Michael’s words.
I’m her husband .
We said I love you’s only last night… and he told me I was going to marry him…
but this? Breath whooshes from my lungs as my head starts to spin and I lean forward, putting my heavy head between my knees to offset the fainting feeling threatening to take over.
This is moving even faster than I was prepared for.
Everything with Michael has been fast… too fast? I don’t know. Is it really?
It took three long years for me to finally realize that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with that douchebag…
and here I am telling the most amazing man I’ve ever met, who I’ve known for under a month that I love him…
and now he’s calling himself husband ? Yeah, there was that bit about marriage last night, but I haven’t really had a chance to wrap my head around it yet.
We’ve been moving at lightning speed, and it’s all so dizzying.
I sit there trying not to pass out, unheeding the scene playing out before me and the words slung back and forth.
Until I hear Trent snivel, “Are you sure you want to saddle yourself with that little wh—”
Michael’s fist crashes into Trent’s face before he can finish the sentence.
“Open your mouth again, and it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do.
And if you ever try to come around her…” Michael starts dragging a bleeding Trent toward the front door where Sheila holds it open for him, smirking.
“If you so much as dare breathe in my wife’s presence, I will end you.
Got that?” I don’t hear Trent’s reply as I’m still frozen in place, but from the look on Sheila’s face, she approves of the situation unfolding in the parking lot.
“Girl, you done got yourself a good one there. He’s got gumption.
” She comes to the bar where I’m still somewhat shell-shocked and wraps a motherly arm around me.
“I knew he was good for you when you guys were in here a couple weeks ago.” She shakes my shoulder as if she’s going to scold me, but her eyes are twinkling.
“But what’s this I hear about you being married?
Luuucy, you’s gots some es’plaining to do.
” She pokes at my shirt, long wrinkled after this crazy-ass day, and grins at me.
A burst of high-pitched, hysterical laughter bubbles up from my chest as I shake my head. Today really has taken the cake. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I chirp out.
“Don’t you, though?” Michael asks as he comes back inside and slips behind the bar to wash his hands at the small sink hidden there. Sheila quickly leaves me in the storm cloud of my husband .
“Michael…” I hesitate as I take in his eyes that are still fiercely flashing, and his delicious chest that is lightly heaving. I think it’s more from emotion than exertion because he clearly had no problem taking down Trent.
His eyes lock on mine as he practically stalks toward me, hands reaching out and capturing mine before I can take a single step.
“What you said before…” My words stumble just like my heart and I swallow thickly. “I’m not–we’re not—”
“Not what, mi amor? Not married?” He grips my chin, those golden flecks in his eyes shining even brighter against the chocolate brown.
“Oh, but you are my wife. Maybe not legally—yet,” his voice drops even lower, “but the certificate doesn’t matter.
I told you last night… I knew from the moment I saw you that you were mine.
And I’m the only one who will ever get to have you for the rest of our lives.
” He runs his hand across my cheek, and I lean into his touch.
How does this man make me feel like I’m floating on air and yet more grounded than I’ve ever been?