Chapter 49
LINCOLN
After a fitful night, I wake up early. My hand stretches outward across the mattress, confirming what I already know. Jules’s side of the bed is still empty and cold.
I spent hours last night, lying completely still in bed, listening for the sound of her footsteps. When I finally heard her quietly enter the house, I was elated. I waited and waited, but then she never joined me in bed. She just snuck in and must have slept on the couch.
For hours, I was plagued by this ridiculous internal debate. Follow my feelings, go find her downstairs, and spend the night comforting her in my arms? Or, follow my rational side who knows that Jules needs her space right now?
I knew I should have followed my feelings. I should have gone down there. Scooped her into my arms. Carried her to our bed where she belongs. Hushed her protests with a long, slow kiss. Proved to her how much she means to me.
But my dumb pride kicked in.
Reminding me that this marriage was never real. Reminding me that I crossed the line by saying ‘I love you’. Pestering me with the fact that she probably doesn’t love me back.
I’ll admit I’m feeling very butt-hurt over how things went down yesterday. In hindsight, declaring my love for a woman when she’s in the middle of a personal crisis was probably not the best decision.
Did I really think Jules would just forget about all the problems with her family and run off into the sunset with me? I feel like such a fool.
So instead of doing the right thing and going to her anyway, I continue to lie here, waiting.
I hear the faintest of sounds coming from downstairs and my heart rate picks up again, expecting Jules to creep into our bedroom any second now. But instead, I hear the quiet thud of the front door closing softly in the early morning, followed by the purr of her moped’s engine.
I swing my legs out of bed and rush to the window. I catch sight of her taillights as they swing out of my driveway.
Jules is gone again.
Goddammit!
Giving her some space turned out to be the absolute wrong move. Surprise, surprise. And I’m kicking myself for not going to her when I had the chance.
I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight. I should have gone to her. Now I’ve missed my chance.
Annoyed with my solo pity party, I finally force myself out of hiding.
Downstairs, I’m met with evidence that Jules really was here.
Her presence wasn’t just a figment of my hopeful imagination.
There’s a faint indentation on the couch cushions, a folded throw blanket on one end, and an empty tissue box on the coffee table.
I can even smell the distinct scent of her perfume still lingering in the living room.
Knowing that she was here, and that I let her slip away—I can’t decide if that makes me feel better or worse.
All I know is that I’m in love with that beautiful, stubborn, rebellious woman, and I am so out of my depths here.
Jules is everything that I’m not. She’s my opposite in almost every way. And yet, she’s perfect for me. She shines a light in my face. She pushes me to grow. She makes me a better person.
And I’m not willing to go back to the grumpy, lonely, delusional asshole I used to be. I can’t just go back to being the asshole I was before I came to know this man Jules has turned me into.
I’m a better father, a better son, a better husband, a better me because of my wife.
In the kitchen, I see a crumpled check next to the coffee machine. It’s the check Jules’s great-grandmother must have given her. The scrap of paper is just sitting there like trash on my countertop. I carefully pick it up and smooth out the wrinkles, my eyes widening at the number of zeros.
Holy shit…
My mind starts spinning with what to do, coming up with a plan.
When Cameron trudges in, still wearing his pajamas, I set him up with a bowl of cereal at the kitchen counter. When I turn on the small TV and hand him the remote, he stares at me with wide eyes. But he doesn’t complain at the chance to watch television this early on a Sunday morning.
Grabbing a clean mug, I sit on a stool and drink my black coffee, replaying the mess that unfolded at my wife’s birthday party. I recall the look on Jules’s face, not when our secret was revealed, but when her great-grandmother dismissed her.
That’s the moment it became clear that the damage we caused went far beyond what either of us had expected. It became clear to me that Jules’s main concern wasn’t the money she lost out on. It was about hurting someone so important to her.
Now that I’m staring at this crumpled check, I know I’m right.
A person doesn’t just casually discard this amount of money if getting rich was their end goal.
This whole arrangement between Jules and me might have started on the premise of securing both of our financial needs, but I’m certain that we’re well past that now.
I don’t know how to deal with the feelings I’m feeling, but I do know that I can help with one thing. In a moment of urgency, I hatch a plan. I change into my nicest suit, and drive Cameron over to my mom’s house.
Then I head out to the edge of town and march right up to the front door of one seriously scary old woman.
When I ring the bell, the frowny-faced housekeeper answers the door.
Smiling broadly, I put my very best manners to use. “Good morning, Martha. How are you doing this morning? May I please speak with Mrs. Lannister?”
Her frown deepens, and I get an earful about showing up to someone’s house at this ungodly hour of the morning.
I cringe, embarrassed. Somehow in my haste, I didn’t realize that it’s only a little after seven. That would explain why my mother was still in her pajamas when I dropped Cameron off.
I prepare to be sent away, but the maid with the devastating scowl must have a soft spot for desperate, well-mannered fools, because after giving me a long, lingering appraisal, she lets me inside.
She leads me through the massive home to where Mrs. Lannister is seated in her study, already dressed to the nines behind an imposing mahogany desk.
“Ma’am, you have a visitor,” Martha says.
When Jules’s great-grandmother spares a glance my way, all I see is disappointment.
Ouch.
I feel that look of dismay all the way down to my bones. But I don’t back down. I understand now why Jules is hurting so badly. I’ve got to fix this.
The elderly woman takes a sip from her tiny cup of tea and nods at her housekeeper. “You may leave us.”
When we’re alone, her shrewd eyes land on me. “I already gave Julissa her inheritance.”
I wag my head. “I’m not here for that.”
Mrs. Lannister’s jaw ticks. “Sit down then.”
I take a step forward, but I refuse to sit. If I do, I hand over my tiny bit of negotiating power. “I’ll keep this brief. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
She glances at me again, still not impressed.
I go on. “This whole idea for Jules and me to get married was on me.”
“You?” She throws out skeptically.
“I came up with the plan. I drew up the contract, and I convinced Jules to go along with it. I needed a wife in order to land an important business deal, and Jules only agreed because she wanted to give her own business a fighting chance. This was all on me. All the deception and lies. It was my fault, and I regret those decisions.”
The woman’s expression still doesn’t budge.
“I’m the one who owes you an apology, Mrs. Lannister. I’m sorry for the deceit and embarrassment I’ve caused. Please, please don’t take this out on my wife.”
“Your ‘wife’?! What a farce.” She hawks.
I shake my head, but I carry on, ignoring the well-deserved jab. “Your approval means everything to her, and I know she won’t be able to accept anything less. Jules has worked so hard, and she deserves to be happy. She only ever wanted her trust fund so that she could build her business.”
“And now she can,” Mrs. Lannister says dismissively.
“You don’t understand.” I shake my head.
“She wants to build her business to make you proud of her. Jules may have received her inheritance, but after damaging her relationship with you, she’s devastated.
She spent the entire night crying, and I would bet everything I own that it’s because she wants her relationship back with you.
She’s grieving you, Mrs. Lannister, not the money. ”
The suspicion on her face deepens. “What’s it to you? What do you get out of this?”
I give a little shrug. “I just want Jules to be happy. I want her to have everything she desires. It’s true that our marriage didn’t start from a place of integrity, but for me, things have changed.
Your great-granddaughter means so much to me now.
It hurts to see her hurting, and if I can do something to fix it, I’m going to try. ”
Jules’s great-grandmother stares at me for a long time, sizing me up. It’s hard not to fidget.
“If you care as much as you claim, Mr. Raines…” the aging woman starts, her voice sharp. “Why are you trying to fix Julissa’s relationship with me, when you haven’t fixed your relationship with her?”
On that, she rises out of her seat, taking her walking stick as she wobbles toward the door.
“See yourself out.” And I’m left there alone.