Never Got Over You

Home > Romance > Never Got Over You > Page 17
Never Got Over You Page 17

by Whitney G.


  “Cut the crap, Grant.” I rolled my eyes. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t invite any of your mistresses over before seven? Like, you’re not supposed to have them here unless no one else is around.”

  “First of all, I don’t have multiple mistresses,” he said. “There’s just one, and her name is Ava. She says hello, by the way.”

  “Tell her I said that she can do better.”

  “Noted.” He laughed. “But seriously, that wasn’t a mistress that you saw. It was the new interior designer. We got a bit carried away in the parlor room, but it won’t happen again.”

  I honestly didn’t care if it did at this point. “We need to talk about something important.”

  “Oh?” He looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t fucking stand you, Grant.” The words tumbled out, unrehearsed and free. “I honestly can’t stand this arrangement for another second, and I want to cut it down to one more week. That way, we can be happy again and I can go find the guy who actually did want to marry me.”

  He stared at me for several seconds without saying a word. Adjusting his towel, he walked over to our room’s liquor cabinet and poured himself a shot of scotch.

  “Are you going to say something?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He tossed back the shot. “I don’t think so. I don’t think we need to get a divorce at all.”

  “Come again?”

  “Besides the fact that we’ve agreed to ninety days with a short separation, and―”

  “It feels like it’s already been ninety years.”

  “It’s only been twenty-one days.” He had the nerve to smile. “Anyway, I’m quite enjoying all the perks that come with being a married Harrison in my family, and it’s not like I’m asking you to love me or have sex. I think we can make this work for a bit longer than ninety days,” he said. “I was planning to mention it to you this weekend.”

  “My answer is no, and you’re right.” I shrugged. “We made a deal for ninety days. I’ll go ahead and start packing, so I can make sure I’m more than ready.”

  “I’m not going to divorce you, Kate.” He set down his glass. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “What?”

  “You heard exactly what I said.” He moved closer. “You can still go fuck James Garrett for all I care, but I’ll never sign the divorce papers. He’ll understand.”

  “He really won’t.”

  “Then that’s his problem.” He ran his fingers through my hair, and I flinched at his touch. “Would you really give this all up just to be with someone who’ll never make a tenth of what you’re used to?”

  “Yes, because I love him.”

  “That’s cute.” He shrugged. “I’m sure he loves you, too. Oh, wait. When’s the last time you heard from him?”

  I said nothing.

  “Exactly. You’re ready to throw away the security of your family and your husband—”

  “My fake husband who I loathe.” I cut him off.

  “Yes.” He laughed. “That guy. You’re ready to ruin all of that for a guy who fucked you a few times and made some pretty promises. If that’s all it takes to impress you, get on your knees to suck my cock and I’ll promise you the world. Only difference is, I’ll actually be able to buy it for you.”

  “If you had a cock worth sucking, you wouldn’t have to make women sign NDAs after they fuck you.” I glared at him. “Trust me, I doubt any of them would ever be in a rush to tell their friends about how pathetic you are in bed.”

  I suddenly felt something hard against my jaw, felt my legs go weak as I fell backwards onto the floor. Everything around me went white, and then reality slowly came into view.

  Grant was standing over me, his face frozen in sheer panic.

  I reached up to my face, and before I could touch it, I knew the wetness falling down my cheeks weren’t tears.

  “Fuck, Kate ...” Grant grabbed a small blanket off the bed and pressed its edge against my face. “I’ve never hit―I’ve never hit a girl ...”

  “You just did ...” I barely managed.

  “I’m sorry.” He stooped down next to me, pulling me against his chest before pressing the fabric on my face again. “I’m not sure what came over me just then. I take back what I said about James, okay? And I think we should um ... We should definitely discuss our marriage plans another day, whenever you want. I promise I won’t ever put my hands on you like this again.”

  My brain was still processing the hit, and I knew now―more than ever, that I was leaving him. Marriage bargain or not.

  What I didn’t know was that he wouldn’t keep his promise, that he would hit me whenever the subject of shortening our marriage came up again. And sadly, it took me five times to see that his promises were full of shit.

  THE FOLLOWING MONTH, after failing to reach James and accepting that my husband was the devil incarnate, I packed some of my things into three large suitcases.

  With luggage tucked into the back of a town car, I showed up at The Kensington Estate on the day of my mother’s monthly tea and book club gathering.

  “Kate, you’re supposed to be wearing all-white when you come to this event,” she said, smiling at me in the hallway. “But you do look stunning as-is, I must say.”

  “Thank you.” I lowered my voice. “I need to talk to you in private for a few minutes.”

  “Can it wait until after a few more guests get here? I want to make sure they stop by the new parlor room that your father let me redesign.”

  “No.” My voice was firm. “No, it cannot wait. I need to talk to you in private. Right now.”

  She nodded and motioned for me to follow her into the grand library. She left the doors open, though. When I tried to close them, she forced them open again.

  I held back a sigh, held back years of frustration. I slowly lifted my sunglasses and looked into her eyes―revealing my newest black eye, courtesy of Grant.

  “Grant’s been hitting me,” I said softly. “I’m not going to put up with it anymore, so I’ll need you and dad to start giving me my inheritance in installments, a few weeks early. I’ll stay close, but I’m not staying with him anymore.”

  She reached out and cupped the right side of my face―gently rubbing her thumb against my cheek. “What did you say to make him do this to you?” she asked.

  Her words hung in the air for several seconds, suspended and unanswered. I was certain I’d misheard her, so I asked her to repeat it.

  “It must have been something out of line or hurtful,” she said, moving her hand away. “If you refrain from acting that way, he probably won’t do it anymore.”

  “He’s done it five times.” I hissed.

  “Then don’t let him get to six.” She looked uninterested in my pain, completely detached. “It’s just a mark, Kate. It’ll heal with time and a closed mouth.”

  “That’s your fucking advice?” I felt my blood boiling. “I tell you that my husband―who I only married for your benefit―”

  “The family’s benefit, Kate.” She cut me off. “Lower your voice.”

  “I tell you that he’s abusing me, and you just want me to deal with it?”

  “Abuse?” She rolled her eyes. “Five times is not abuse, Kate. That’s an insult to real victims. What you’re going through is nothing new and nothing to cause unnecessary drama about. It’s part of the price you pay for marrying a wealthy and powerful man.” She spoke with a straight face. “Occasionally, you may catch a misdirected hit, but he’ll make it up to you. It’ll never be intentional. That’s just life at this level.”

  I stood still, staring at her in utter disbelief. As she continued her twisted spiel, I suddenly realized all the small things I’d never noticed before. Her monthly appointments for her “eye socket beauty massages,” her need to have a make-up artist and full-time spa staff at all times, her love of this lifestyle above anything and anyone else. I saw exactly who I would turn into if I stayed anywhere near this estate. The sad and tra
gic picture in full color.

  This was the final fracture in our cracked relationship, the hit that shattered the glass. I twisted the wedding ring off my finger and threw it out the window.

  “Tell Grant I said, fuck him,” I looked into her eyes. “And fuck you, too.” I left the house without looking over my shoulder, without ever wanting to return.

  “Please take me to the airport, Mr. Truman,” I said, the moment I returned to the town car. “Please.”

  He nodded and opened the back door for me. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and he gave me a look of sympathy.

  I had no idea where I was going, what my next move was going to be, but I knew I was done being a Kensington. When we made it to the airport, Mr. Truman—understanding that he’d never see me again, gave me a hug and handed me a few hundred dollar bills.

  I tried to give them back, but he refused and drove away.

  “How may I help you, Miss?” The agent smiled as I approached the outdoor ticket counter.

  “I need to buy a plane ticket to—” I paused. “Where’s the next flight going?”

  “Miss, there are hundreds of flights every day.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged, holding back tears as I pulled out my credit card. “How about Atlanta? The next flight there.”

  “Okay.” She tapped a few keys and swiped my card. “Um, do you have another credit card? This one is declined.”

  “That’s impossible.” I shook my head. “Can you run it again?”

  She did. Declined.

  “One more time, please?”

  Declined.

  “Maybe you should call your bank,” she said, handing it to me. “Next in line, please!”

  I stepped to the side and logged into my bank account—feeling my jaw drop as I saw the numbers.

  Zero. Zero. Zero ...

  I leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths.

  This can’t be happening...

  My phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Kate, it’s me.”

  “Sarah Kay?”

  “I can’t talk long.” Her voice was soft. “Mom just told Dad how you slapped her before walking out of the dinner hall, and she’s officially done with you. She’s in her office cutting off as many ties to you as possible.”

  “That’s not what happened.” Tears pricked my eyes. “Please don’t tell me that you’re calling to say goodbye.”

  “Never,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I was calling to buy you a plane ticket and a hotel room for a little while. Let me know where you’re trying to go, and I’ll get it right now. What city?”

  “Los Angeles.”

  “No, that’s too close.”

  “New York?”

  “Too far.”

  “Phoenix?”

  “Yes, that’s a good idea...” She paused. “I think there’s a Four Seasons there, too.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a five-star hotel.”

  “Of course, it does.” There was a smile in her voice. “Wouldn’t want you to hit rock bottom in one day. At least give it a week.”

  I laughed through my tears, and within minutes, she sent me a text with confirmation numbers.

  “You promise this isn’t goodbye?” I asked. “That you’re not writing me off, too?”

  “I promise, Kate.” She sounded sincere. “You’re the only person in this family I actually love. Talk later.”

  Tears fell down my face as I made it through security, as I realized that my life was forever changed. I had to start anew without my family’s last name, without James.

  Hours later, I settled in my seat as the plane ascended toward the sky. Ignoring the tears streaming down my cheeks, I looked down at Lake Tahoe and vowed to never come back. I vowed to start my life over and to never, ever wait on another man again.

  (So) Can we forgive each other?

  James

  “I REALIZED THAT MY life was forever changed. I had to start anew without my family’s last name, without you.”

  I reread the section about her parents, about Grant putting his hands on her, and felt an unbearable ache in my chest. Waves of guilt washed over me, damn near drowning me for never giving her a chance to tell me her story while she was here.

  She did wait for me.

  I picked up my phone and called the company’s lead driver.

  “Yes, Mr. Holmes?” he answered on the first ring.

  “What time did you take Miss Kennedy to the airport today?”

  “I didn’t. She refused my services, sir.” He paused. “I did make sure to upgrade her ticket to first class as you requested.”

  “Has her flight landed in New York yet?”

  “No, sir. She’ll arrive in Atlanta within the next three hours, and she’ll have a four-hour layover before her flight to New York.”

  “Thank you.” I ended the call and immediately called my pilot.

  Or Is This Really Over?

  I WAS WILLING TO GIVE New York City a second chance, an encore by default. It was on the East Coast—far away from James, and one of my old coworkers had referred me to Spotify.

  I didn’t even have to attend an interview. They hired me on the phone within fifteen minutes, and I was now looking up temporary rentals as I waited for my flight.

  My heart felt even heavier now than it did years ago, but this time I was going to follow my logic instead of my emotions.

  I clicked on a one bedroom apartment in Manhattan and gasped at the price. I clicked on three more, wondering if the site was mistakenly adding extra zeroes to all the list prices. As I pulled up my hotel options, I heard a familiar and deep voice right next to me, and the scent of his intoxicating cologne followed.

  “Kate,” James said. “Kate, I know I’m the last person you want to talk to right now, but I need you to listen to me.”

  I kept my gaze on my phone’s screen, adjusted the strap of the bag on my shoulder.

  “Kate,” he repeated, stepping around to face me. “It’ll only take five minutes to say what I need to say.”

  “I think you’ve said enough.” I noticed that his eyes were bloodshot red, that he looked as if he’d had as much trouble sleeping the night before as I did. Still, he didn’t deserve any more time from me, and the second the security guard emerged from the restroom, I was going to flag him over my way.

  “I read your letter,” he said. “I’ve been reading it over and over all day.”

  “I hope it was entertaining.” I moved past him and walked over to the windows. I hoped he would get the hint, but the moment I set down my bag, he was stepping in front of me again.

  “James.” My voice cracked. “I don’t want to hear a single word that you have to say. I just want to take my last paycheck, what’s left of my dignity, and stay the hell away from you.”

  “I didn’t know that they made you marry Grant for convenience.” He kept talking, his voice hoarse. “I just thought you chose him over me, that you were done waiting.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance to tell you.” I shook my head. “You didn’t want to listen to me.”

  “I didn’t.” He looked into my eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t forgive you.” I felt tears falling. “Please just go.”

  “I had to lie to you about going to business school back then.” He closed the gap between us, telling me what I already knew. “I was working on oil rigs to make money, so I could be enough for you.”

  I didn’t know that part... “Well, you should probably resist the urge to hold back details like that, the next time you have a girlfriend.”

  “I don’t want any other girlfriends, Kate.” He wiped away my stray tears with his fingertips. “I only want you.”

  “I’ve already committed to Spotify,” I said, feeling an ache in my chest. “They expect me to start in three weeks.”

  He stared at me, wiped more
of my tears away. For a moment, it felt like we were the only people in the airport, a terminal for two.

  “Ladies and gentlemen who are taking flight 1873 with service to New York City, please direct your attention to Gate 23A,” the gate agent’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “We will begin boarding within the next few minutes.”

  “I know you’re upset with me, Kate.”

  “I’m beyond upset with you.”

  “I know that,” he said, looking into my eyes. “And if you still want to leave after I say what I need to say, then I won’t stand in your way.”

  “We’re boarding in five minutes.”

  “She said ‘a few’, not five.” His lips curved into a slight smile, but it quickly faded. “I know I can’t take back what I said the other night, but I need you to know that you’ve always had an effect on me—even when you weren’t a part of my life.”

  “We are now asking that customers who need assistance or additional time to board, as well as any active military personnel, please board the aircraft at this time.” The gate agent’s voice came over the speakers.

  James ignored her intrusion and continued. “If it weren’t for you leaving and moving on, I don’t think I would’ve worked as hard. Actually, I know I wouldn’t have.”

  “I didn’t move on from you on purpose, James.”

  “I know that now.” He cupped my face in his hands. “Let me finish.” He waited a few seconds as passengers moved behind him. “I became who I am today because of you, and despite the distance and time that’s separated us, no other woman has ever compared to you, Kate. Not a single one.”

  I felt more tears falling down my face.

  “If I’d known that Grant was putting his hands on you, I would’ve put a hit out on him.” He paused. “Now, that I do know that, I’ve taken care of it.”

  I blinked. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard that right, if my crying was distorting things.

  “I want to spend the rest of my life making things right with you, and I’m begging you to let me.”

  I shook my head, refusing to give into him.

 

‹ Prev