Chapter 15
Clayton
Six months later.
I woke up before the sun, my body wrapped around my wife like I was afraid she might disappear if I let go. Her back was pressed against my chest, her ass nestled against my hips, and I could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing beneath my palm where it rested on her stomach.
For a long moment, I just lay there. Breathing her in. Feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. Marveling at the fact that I got to have this. That after everything I'd done, everything I'd almost destroyed, she was still here.
Still mine.
The thought sent a possessive thrill through my chest, hot and primal. I pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, inhaling the soft vanilla and amber scent that had been imprinted on my brain for almost nine years now. She stirred slightly, making a sleepy sound that went straight to my cock.
Down, boy. Coffee first. Devotion before desire.
I slipped out of bed carefully, doing my best not to wake her, and padded into the kitchen of our new apartment.
It was smaller than the mansion, a sleek two-bedroom in the arts district that Jennifer had fallen in love with the moment she saw it.
Close to her studio. Close to the coffee shop she liked.
Close to the life she'd built for herself during those months we'd been apart.
I'd signed the lease without hesitation. I would have signed anything she wanted. I would have moved into a cardboard box under a bridge if that's where she needed to be.
The coffee maker was already programmed, because I'd learned months ago that Jennifer functioned better when she woke up to the smell of fresh brew. I poured two cups, added cream to hers the way she liked it, and carried them back to the bedroom.
She was awake when I returned, propped up against the pillows with her dark curls spilling around her shoulders like a halo. The morning light caught her glistening skin, turning it golden, and my breath caught in my throat the way it always did when I looked at her.
"You're staring," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.
"I'm admiring." I handed her the coffee and climbed back into bed beside her. "There's a difference."
"Mmm." She took a sip, her eyes fluttering closed in appreciation. "You make the best coffee. I should have married you for that alone."
"I'm glad my skills are finally being appreciated."
She laughed, the sound warm and easy, and something in my chest loosened. Six months ago, I wasn't sure I'd ever hear her laugh like that again. Easy. Unguarded. Free.
I'd done that. Or rather, I'd stopped doing the things that had stolen that laughter from her in the first place.
"What's on your agenda today?" she asked, setting her coffee on the nightstand.
"Board meeting at ten. Lunch with Corey at one. Therapy at four." I took a breath. "And I need to tell you something about the board meeting."
Her eyebrows rose. "Tell me."
This was the part I still struggled with. The instinct to protect her, to shield her from the stressful parts of my life, was so deeply ingrained that I had to consciously override it every single time. But I'd promised her honesty. Complete transparency. No more walls.
"We're voting on a new development project. Mixed-use building downtown, residential and commercial. My father is pushing hard for it, but the numbers don't add up." I met her eyes steadily. "I'm going to vote against it."
"Against your father?"
"Against a bad investment." I shrugged, trying to seem more casual than I felt. "The fact that it's also against my father is just a bonus."
Jennifer studied my face, her dark eyes searching. "How do you feel about that?"
"Terrified." The word came out before I could stop it.
"My father has been the voice in my head for forty years.
Telling me I'm not good enough, telling me I need to be stronger, harder, less emotional.
Voting against him feels like..." I trailed off, searching for the right words.
"It feels like cutting the last rope that was keeping me tethered to the man I used to be. "
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No." I reached for her hand, lacing our fingers together. "The man I used to be almost lost you. I don't want to be him anymore."
She squeezed my hand, her expression soft. "I'm proud of you."
The words hit me somewhere deep, somewhere I'd been starving for approval my entire life. Not my father's approval, I realized now. Hers. Always hers.
"I have something else to tell you," I said.
"More confessions? It's not even eight in the morning."
"This one's easier." I grinned at her, feeling lighter than I had in years. "I ran into Grace yesterday."
Jennifer's expression hardened instantly. "Where?"
"At a coffee shop. She was applying for a job there." I let that sink in for a moment. "Apparently her consulting business collapsed completely. No one will hire her. She's been blacklisted from every major PR firm in the city."
"Good." Jennifer's voice was cold, unforgiving. "She deserves worse."
"She tried to talk to me. Started crying, begging me to help her, saying she never meant for any of this to happen."
I watched Jennifer's jaw tighten, watched the protective fury flash in her dark eyes. My wife was fierce, and I loved her for it.
"What did you say?"
"I told her that she made her choices, and now she has to live with the consequences." I brought Jennifer's hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles. "And then I walked away. Didn't look back. Didn't feel even a flicker of guilt."
"Really?"
"Really." I met her eyes steadily. "Six months ago, I might have felt bad for her. Might have let her manipulation tactics get under my skin. But I'm not that man anymore. The only woman I care about is you. The only opinion that matters is yours. Grace Shields is nothing to me now."
Jennifer was quiet for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she set her coffee aside, swung her leg over my hips, and straddled me with a purposeful grace that made my cock twitch.
"Say that again," she murmured, her hands braced on my chest.
"Say what?"
"That I'm the only woman you care about."
I gripped her hips, pulling her down until she could feel exactly how much I wanted her. "You're the only woman I care about. The only woman I want. The only woman I will ever want for the rest of my goddamn life."
She rolled her hips against me, and I groaned.
"Tell me more."
"You're my safe harbor." My voice came out rough, desperate. "My confidante. My partner. The person I tell everything to, every fear and failure and dark and twisted thought. You own me, Jennifer. Body and soul. Every piece of me belongs to you."
She kissed me then, hot and deep, and I let myself get lost in her the way I always did. My hands slid up her thighs, found the hem of the oversized t-shirt she slept in, pulled it over her head to reveal the body I'd worshipped a thousand times and still couldn't get enough of.
"I love you," I murmured against her skin. "I love you so fucking much it terrifies me."
"I know." She reached down and freed my cock from my boxers, positioning herself above me. "Show me."
I thrust up into her with a groan, feeling her wet heat envelop me like coming home. She rode me with a confidence she'd never had before, taking what she wanted, setting the pace, controlling everything while I lay beneath her and thanked whatever god was listening for giving me this woman.
"Yours," I gasped as she clenched around me. "I'm yours, Jennifer. Only yours. Forever."
"Damn right you are."
She came with a cry that echoed through our bedroom, and I followed her over the edge moments later, spilling inside her with a intensity that left me shaking.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, both of us breathing hard. The morning light had shifted, filling the room with golden warmth, and I traced lazy patterns on her bare shoulder while my heart rate slowly returned to normal.
"We're going to be late," Jennifer murmured.
"Worth it."
She laughed and propped herself up on her elbow to look at me. "You have that board meeting."
"I know."
"And I have a client presentation at nine."
"I know that too."
"So we should probably get up."
"Probably." But I made no move to leave the bed. Instead, I pulled her closer, tucking her head beneath my chin. "Five more minutes."
"Clayton..."
"Five more minutes of holding my wife. Then I'll go be a responsible adult." I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I promise."
She sighed, but I felt her relax against me. "Fine. Five minutes."
We lay there in comfortable silence, and I let myself feel everything. The warmth of her body against mine. The steady rhythm of her breathing. The profound, overwhelming gratitude that I'd been given a second chance I didn't deserve.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"For what?"
"For giving me another chance. For not giving up on me. For loving me even when I made it really fucking hard."
She lifted her head to look at me, her dark eyes soft. "You're worth it. You've always been worth it. You just didn't know how to show me the real you."
"I know now." I cupped her face in my hands, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
Because she was. "And I'm never going to stop showing you.
Every day, for the rest of our lives. I'm going to wake up and tell you what's in my head.
I'm going to share every fear, every struggle, every moment of weakness.
I'm going to be so annoyingly vulnerable that you'll get sick of hearing about my feelings. "
"I won't get sick of it." She smiled, and it was like watching the sun come out. "I've been waiting eight years to hear about your feelings. You've got a lot of catching up to do."
"Then I better get started." I kissed her forehead. "Today's feelings: nervous about the board meeting. Grateful for this apartment. Proud of how far we've come. And so in love with you that I can barely function."
"That's a good list."
"I've got more."
"Save some for later." She kissed me softly, then pulled away and climbed out of bed. "We really do need to get up."
I watched her walk toward the bathroom, admiring the curves of her body, the confidence in her stride. She'd always been beautiful, but there was something different about her now. A lightness she hadn't had before. A freedom.
I'd given her that. Or rather, I'd stopped taking it away.
"Clayton?" She paused at the bathroom door, looking back at me over her shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"I love you too. In case that wasn't obvious."
My heart swelled so big it felt like it might burst out of my chest. "It was obvious. But I'll never get tired of hearing it."
She smiled and disappeared into the bathroom, and I lay there for another moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the happiness wash over me.
Six months ago, I'd been a man who'd lost everything. My wife. My integrity. My sense of self. I'd burned my life to the ground on live television, and I'd been prepared to walk away with nothing.
Instead, I'd gotten everything.
A wife who loved me. A marriage built on honesty instead of secrets. A life where I didn't have to hide anymore, didn't have to pretend, didn't have to carry my burdens alone.
It had taken eight years and the near destruction of everything I cared about, but I'd finally learned the lesson my father had never taught me.
Vulnerability wasn't weakness.
Vulnerability was the only thing that could save you.
I got out of bed, ready to face the day. Ready to face my father, my board, whatever challenges life threw at me. Because I wasn't alone anymore. I had Jennifer beside me, and with her, I could handle anything.
I walked into the bathroom, wrapping my arms around my wife from behind as she brushed her teeth. She met my eyes in the mirror, and I saw everything I needed to see reflected back at me.
Love. Trust. Partnership.
The marriage I should have given her from the beginning.
"Ready to take on the world?" I murmured against her neck.
She spit out her toothpaste and grinned at me in the mirror. "With you? Always."
Always.
I liked the sound of that.