by Katee Robert
She frowned. “What do you mean? Did what?”
“I wanted to show you how serious I am about this, and to make up for the fact that I wasn’t there for you eight years ago.”
A murmur started at the edge of the dance floor and she glanced over. “Oh my God, is that my dad?” Chelsea looked back at him, all color gone from her face. “What did you do?”
“I’m fixing things.” He took her hand, trying not to notice how cold it was in his, and led her over to where Gerald Callaghan stood with his arms crossed over his chest. The man looked as smooth and put- together as he did on television, his steel gray hair not showing any signs of receding or thinning, his laugh lines only seeming to make him more approachable in his commercials.
He didn’t look approachable now.
His brown eyes flicked to Chelsea. “So this is where you’ve spent your weekend?”
“I can explain.”
Noticing the stares they were attracting, Nathan motioned to the door Gerald had just walked through. “Why don’t we take this into the hallway?”
“Yes, let’s.” Gerald turned on his heel and stalked back the way he’d come, leaving them to trail after him. As they followed him, Nathan prepared himself.
This wouldn’t be easy, and he didn’t think the man would take it well, but he’d thrown Chelsea to the wolves when he left her for the Army, and he needed to show her that he’d never abandon her again. He’d be there for her now like he should have been there for her then.
Once they were far enough away from the reception, Gerald stopped and turned to face them. “What was so important that you brought me down here?”
“I wanted to give you the respect of explaining things in person. Eight years ago, I married your daughter.” Chelsea gasped, but he refused to take his gaze from her dad’s face. “We’ve decided to give our marriage another shot.”
Gerald looked from one of them to the other, finally settling on Nathan.“You’ve been married to my daughter this entire time.”
“Yes, sir.” And he’d keep on being married to her if he had anything to say about it. Nathan braced himself as he watched the thoughts pass over the other man’s face. It didn’t matter what Gerald’s reaction was. He’d weather it for Chelsea’s sake. He wouldn’t leave her side again.
“I see.” The older man rubbed a hand over his face, seeming to have aged ten years in ten seconds. Not quite the reaction Nathan had been expecting, but he’d work with whatever he got.
“Dad, I can explain.”
Nathan finally glanced at her and did a double take when he saw how pale she was. She appeared to be on the verge of passing out. What the hell?
“That won’t be necessary.” He sighed.“You should have told me when it happened, Chelsea. We would have helped you take care of it.”
As in, they would have pushed her to divorce him right then and there. Nathan squeezed her hand.“With all due respect, we didn’t need it taken care of then or now. We’re going to work through our problems and make things right.”
Her father seemed to consider this for a long moment. “If that’s your decision, then there’s only one course of events—you’ll have to have a public wedding. That’s the only chance we have at covering up the fact that Chelsea has been married all along. Everyone will be so delighted at the event, most won’t think to dig deeper.”
Wait. A wedding? Nathan stared, his mind frantically trying to catch up. That might’ve been his end goal in, oh, a year or two, but he’d prepared for a fight, an argument, pretty much anything except Gerald turning around and saying they would have to have a wedding now. “What?”
“Dad, no.” Chelsea jerked her hand out of his.
Gerald didn’t seem the least bit concerned that he’d just thrown them for a loop. He nodded to himself. “Yes, it’s the only way. I’m sorry, Chelsea, but you’ve made your bed. Now you have to lie in it.” He stepped forward and awkwardly clasped her on the shoulder. “It will be fine. I’ll have my assistant get in contact with you so we can schedule the date.”
“Dad, please.”
But he was already turning and walking away. “Don’t forget your appointments next week. That interview is vital, now more than ever.”
Well, shit. That hadn’t gone like he’d expected. Nathan turned to Chelsea, intending to apologize, but she paced a quick circle, as if she wanted to run away but wasn’t sure which direction to take. “What were you thinking?” she demanded. “Are you trying to push me away?”
“No. No.” He could understand her being thrown off by her father’s reaction—hell, he was, too.“Chelsea, I’m not leaving you. More than anything, I need you to know that.”
She laughed harshly. “Oh, you won’t be able to. If we go through with this wedding, we won’t be able to get divorced for at least two years—probably closer to five—or my father runs the risk of being accused of a publicity stunt.”
“This wasn’t my intention. I had no idea he’d react like that.”As much as he wanted to stay married to her and give this thing between them a shot, he wasn’t all that fond of being shepherded into a public wedding so her dad wouldn’t lose points with the voters.
“And how, exactly, did you think he was going to react? Did you even think at all?” She wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders bowing as if the weight of the world had come to rest there. “This was a mistake.”
“What? I understand that you’re upset. Hell, I’m not doing too peachy myself, but we can work through this.” He searched for the right answer, anything to get that look off her face. He could fix this. He had to. “We’ll drive back to Spokane and talk with your dad again. We’ll tell him he can’t make this decision for us.” “God, will you listen to yourself? I thought maybe you’d grown up in the last eight years, but obviously I was wrong.”
He actually took a step back before he caught himself. “What are you saying?”
“This. All of this.” She released the death grip she had on her arm to wave it around. “You made another huge decision without even talking to me. Again. You contacted my father behind my back and orchestrated this confrontation without giving me so much as a hint it was coming.” She laughed again, the sad sound making his heart break. “Do you know how humiliating that was for me? To have to stand there while you paraded our personal relationship in front of my father to be judged? I asked you for time. To take things slow while we figured things out. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Chelsea—”
“No, of course it doesn’t. Because you are just barreling forward with your plan, no matter the consequences, just like you did the last time. Well, I’m done being the casualty in your quest to prove you’re the biggest, baddest alpha male in existence.”
A slow and steady anger roiled through him. She’d taken what was supposed to be a gesture of love and turned it into something he’d never intended. Worse, she was so fucking dismissive of what he’d been trying to accomplish. “I did this for you.”
“Of course you did. Just like you joined the Army for me.” She backed away from him. “Some things never change. I was a fool for thinking they could.” “Don’t you dare run away from me. Not again. We can talk this through.”
“No, we can’t. Because you still don’t understand what you did wrong. And…” Her breath hitched. “I’m sorry, but I’m not strong enough to weather the storm until you do.”
Right then and there he realized he was fighting a losing battle. She’d never trust him. She didn’t even want to try. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Stay, Chelsea. This weekend was great. Even you have to admit that.”
“It was great. But this—” She motioned to where her father had stood a few minutes ago. “I can’t do this again. I won’t. It’s not worth it.”
Meaning he wasn’t worth it. Soul-searing pain lanced through him, but Nathan refused to show it. He refused to give her anything. “Whoever said love conquers all hasn’t met the Callaghan family.”
&n
bsp; She flinched. “Love is great in theory, but what’s love without trust?”
She was really going to do it. She was going to throw away what they’d fought so hard for over the last few days. “Leave me now, and this is it. I’ll sign the damn papers and we’ll be done with this. I’m not going to chase you down again.”
Just like he’d seen her do countless times, Chelsea gathered herself and faced him, her shoulders back and nothing showing on her face. “You didn’t before. Why would that change now? Good-bye, Nathan.”
Chelsea turned on her heel and strode away. He made himself stand there and watch her leave him, made himself face the tangled mess of despair rising with each step she took. Christ, he’d been trying to show her how serious he was about regaining her trust, how he’d never force her to take a stand against her family—or anyone else—without him by her side. Maybe it hadn’t gone as planned, but what was wrong with sitting down and having a goddamn conversation? How were they ever supposed to work through this shit if she kept walking away?
When she disappeared through the door—had he really expected her to change her mind and turn around?—he headed for the bar. She wanted to run? Fine. He sure as hell wasn’t going to chase her down again.
It was over between them, once and for all.
18
Chelsea held herself together until she got her things into the car. The pressure in her chest was so intense she thought she might die from it.After all this, nothing had changed. She’d actually allowed herself to hope they had a chance to make things work between them.
Then he’d gone and thrown everything away.
Why did it have to be his way or the highway? She didn’t feel like asking to take things slow should have been a deal breaker, not when rebuilding the trust between them was at stake. But to go and pull a stunt like bringing her father into it? If that was his idea of building trust, he still didn’t get it.
He probably never would.
Beyond that, she’d wanted the freedom to break the news to her family on her terms and timeline. They were already married—it wasn’t like that was going to change unless he signed the divorce papers—so why did he have to make a spectacle of their relationship? Wasn’t her word that she wanted to give them another chance enough for him?
Though she could barely see through the tears clouding her vision, she flew out of the parking lot and onto the road. There was no way she could make it all the way back to Seattle in her current condition, but she couldn’t stay where she was. It was entirely too likely that someone would come looking for her.
Who was she fooling? Her father was long gone, and Nathan wasn’t coming after her, nor would his family. He’d made it painfully clear that if she walked away, this was it for them. They were finished.
And she’d still walked away.
When she’d made it far enough, Chelsea pulled into a gas station and slammed the car into park. Desperate, she dug through her purse until she came up with her phone.
It barely rang twice before Danielle picked up. “Did you clear out those cobwebs this weekend? Was it good? Please tell me you used something from my care package with Mr. Panty Melter.”
A sob twisted free of her chest. “Danielle.”
Instantly, all joking was gone from her best friend’s voice. “Oh my God, what happened? Are you okay?” Was she okay? Chelsea felt like she’d never be okay again. How was she supposed to keep moving through life knowing that there would never be another chance with Nathan? At least before, she’d had the comfort knowing that someday, in another life, they might have worked out. Now they’d had their second shot and it had gone all to hell. She cupped the phone to her face as if it were her lifeline. “No.”
“Where are you, sweetie? I can have Daddy send a chopper and get you home within two hours.”
The absurdity of Danielle calling in her father’s military connections to save the day nearly made Chelsea laugh. “I don’t think he’d appreciate you pulling those strings to get me home faster.”
“Who cares? Even a four-star general needs a little shaking up from time to time. It’s good for him.” “Thank you, but no.” She was finally able to draw a full breath. Perhaps a few more and she’d actually stop crying. “I’ll be able to make it home okay.”
“Are you sure? Because I have no problem riding to the rescue. It’s a pretty drive, and you know how I like to break pesky little rules like speed limits.”
“I’ve already interrupted your plans for our kitchen counter this weekend enough.”
“Yeah, well, what’s some hot sex when your bestie is in trouble? You need me and I’m there. No guy is going to get in the way of that.”
Chelsea’s heart ached. Here, at least, was one person who would always be there for her. Yes, Danielle thought Chelsea’s family walked all over her, but she’d never do anything about it that would ruin their friendship. “Thank you.”
“You sure you’re okay to drive?”
No, but if she stayed there, all Chelsea would do was obsess over every single thing that had happened between her and Nathan over the last few days. Even now, even knowing better, her body burned for his touch, the memory of his hands on her skin making her shiver. Her very being cried out for him.
She cleared her throat. “I’m fine to drive. I should be home in a little bit.”
“You have three and a half hours. If you’re not home before dark, I start calling in the cavalry.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do that. I’m going to go pick up some red wine and ice cream. We’ll watch The Notebook when you get home and cry over the fact that men like Noah are pure fiction.”
They weren’t, though. Nathan might not have written her a letter every day for a year, but he’d kept true to his vows for eight years. Noah didn’t have a single thing on that. “That sounds great.”
“Ice cream, wine, and ugly crying—the cure for any breakup. And then, if and when you’re ready, we’ll talk about it and cry some more.”
Danielle didn’t know the truth—she couldn’t unless Chelsea told her. The weight of all the secrets threatened to crush her, but if she started this conversation here on the side of the road, she’d never make it back to their apartment. Chelsea forced a smile, though it wobbled around the edges. She’d tell her friend everything when she got home.“What could I have possibly done in a past life to deserve a friend like you?”
“You probably sacrificed a few virgins and bathed in their blood. I love you. Drive safe.” Danielle hung up, leaving her once again alone with her thoughts.
It was so much easier to shove everything from her mind when she had Danielle’s personality distracting her. Chelsea wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She could get through the next few hours without breaking down completely. When she was home, it would be a different story, but at least she would have Danielle to commiserate with.
Strange how that didn’t make her feel all that much better.
Nathan had lost count of how many drinks he’d consumed before he left the reception. It didn’t matter. Nothing he did could touch the toxic mix of anger and despair choking him.
All his planning, all his carefully constructed time spent with Chelsea, was for nothing. She’d reacted the exact same way she had eight years ago when things got rough—she’d walked away. If she’d stayed and actually talked things out instead of going with her knee-jerk reaction, they might have been able to come up with a happy compromise. Okay, probably not a happy one, but they should have been able to figure out something.
That was what people in relationships did. They talked.
Hell, talking was one of the few things Nathan and Chelsea had never had a problem doing before, but somewhere along the way he’d missed something. It must have started after his mother died, though he hadn’t realized the problem back then. If he hadn’t been drowning in the grief of her passing and been so desperate to get out of town, they might have never gotten to this point.
/> She might have never left in the first place.
He wished he could claim the same ignorance this time around.
Nathan finished off the drink he’d brought to his hotel room and set the glass on the dresser with exaggerated care—the same dresser he’d bent Chelsea over last night. He looked around the hotel room, wishing he hadn’t taken her on practically every available surface. The memories were too new and, combined with the far past, threatened to overwhelm him.
What the fuck was he supposed to do?
He wanted to trash the place—to rip apart every single thing that reminded him of her—but it wouldn’t do any good. Everything reminded him of her. Which meant he had to get out of here, go home, do anything but sit here and think about the woman who’d torn his heart out all over again.
As if he’d be able to do anything but think about her. Even now, on the happiest day of his brother’s life, Nathan couldn’t get the picture of those tears in her eyes out of his head. She’d looked so hurt and betrayed, all because he’d wanted to finally make things right.
He was afraid that sight would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Fuck it. He’d get a cab to Portland and come get his truck in the morning.
Not bothering to fold his clothes, he tossed everything he could get his hands on into his suitcase. He moved faster, almost frantically, as if getting this done in a shorter amount of time would do a damn thing about the chasm opening up inside him.
He stopped in front of the nightstand, his gaze trapped by the neat stack of documents sitting there. The divorce papers. Nathan sat on the bed, his legs no longer able to hold him. He reached for them. Just to take a look, because apparently he wanted to cause himself even more pain before the day was out.
There, next to each neat little sticky note arrow, was an elegant signature. Chelsea Callaghan-Schultz. It made him want to throw up.