The Billionaire's Marriage: A Romance Novel

by Marshall, Marnie

  I stand looking out over the sound, separated from my wife by only the glass wall, and I dial my brother.

  "Morning, bro. I thought we weren't all meeting till eleven?"

  "Thats why I'm calling; we'll have to take a rain check, actually."

  "Oh? Everything okay?"

  "Fine." Sort of. "Krissy's memories came back last night. She's just a bit tired and overwhelmed at the moment."

  There's a sigh of relief from the other end, and I hear my sister in law in the background. "Yeah babe, it's my brother. Krissy got her memory back," I hear him tell her. There's a shuffle, and then I hear Kate's voice.

  "Oh, Edward, that's such good news. How is she?"

  My ears can scarcely tolerate her shrill at this early hour. "She's all right, just processing. We're going to have to reschedule the outing for another weekend."

  "Don't give me that, King. How is she?"

  I sigh. Leave it to Kavanagh to read between the lines. "She's very emotional. We're just helping her adjust. Ryan has been a good distraction."

  I hear a sniff. Girls and their tears. It's unusual for Kate to cry; it reminds me that this entire ordeal has been rough on everyone in Krissy's life, not just Ryan and I. "You tell us if there's anything you or she needs, okay?"

  "I will. Perhaps Krissy will call you later, I'll suggest it to her."

  "You do that, King. Take care of my girl."

  "Always."

  I dial Ray next. He doesn't answer, so I text him the news, and that all is well. That's about all the information a man needs.

  My parents are next.

  "Edward?" my father answers sleepily.

  Shit, I forgot about the dinner. Dad and Mom attended some sort of awards function yesterday evening, Mom's first since she's been home, and they must have decided to sleep in. "I'm sorry for waking you. Everything's fine. Krissy's memory returned last night, and I thought you'd want to know."

  "Oh, son... What a relief to hear. What? Oh... hold on... your mother would like a word."

  There's a shuffle, probably my father getting out of bed. "Edward? Is everything all right?"

  "Yes, Mom. Krissy's memory came back to her last night, all of it." The declaration didn't faze me much the last few times, but it knocks me about the head now. I press my hand over my mouth to hold back a sob.

  "Oh, Edward, that's wonderful... darling? What's wrong?"

  She can't see me shake my head, I have to remind myself. I gulp back the lump in my throat and swipe at my eyes. "I'm all right, she's all right, everything's fine," I blather. I swear to God, if I don't stop crying I'll... I'll...

  "Calm down, Edward. Deep breaths. Now talk to me," she soothes.

  "She's just... overwhelmed. And sad... so upset and confused, and..." I gulp again. "It isn't the way I'd imagined at all."

  "You thought she'd remember, and you'd live happily ever after," my mother concludes the thought for me.

  "Well... it sounds idiotic when you put it that way, but yes."

  "Darling, I'm positively elated that she's found herself. You should focus on what she's regained, and just help her through the rest." She pauses. "Would you like me to stop by later and give her a look-over?"

  "Would you? I'd appreciate it." I'm surprised and anxious with how comforting the offer is.

  "We'll come by around lunchtime, then. Did you need your father or I for anything else?"

  Is this a trick question? "Of course, Mom. You're always needed. Both of you are."

  I hear her click her tongue. "I'm still upset with you, Edward. But no matter what you've done, I'll always love you. Remember that."

  Oh, thank God. "I love you too, Mom."

  "We'll see you soon."

  I end the call and wander into the kitchen to calm down. Through the glass wall, I see that Ryan has convinced Krissy to play tag with him. To see her frolicking in the yard warms my heart. I've gone soft, and I don't fucking care who knows it.

  Next, I dial my sister. This one may prove harder than talking to our mother. A male voice answers.

  "Mia's phone."

  Shit. They've probably recently done... something I'd rather not think about my sister doing. I swallow. "Ethan, it's Edward. Is my sister available?"

  "She's just gone to the, uh, kitchen... what's up?"

  Now I know for certain they've just fucked. My stomach turns. Down, King. They're consenting adults, and they'll be married... eventually.

  "Krissy's memory returned yesterday evening, and I wanted you both to know."

  "Oh, Chris, that's great news. Yeah, Mia, it's your brother... What? Oh, here..."

  What is it with this female preoccupation of controlling the damned phone?

  "Edward? What's the great news? Are you guys having another baby or something?"

  Oh, for fuck sake, Mia. "Nothing like that, sorry to disappoint... if you'd shut up for more than a second I could tell you that Krissy got all three years back."

  "Ooooo that's so awesome!" she squeaks. "When? What triggered it this time? Tell me everything!"

  I sigh, rubbing my forehead. "Mia, she's having a hard time processing it all. I just wanted to let you know that she remembers. I'm calling all the family."

  "Oh, is she okay? Do you need anything? I could make something and bring it over..."

  "That's not necessary, Mia, but thank you." I swallow. I need to tell her. But how?

  "Oh. I'm glad she's okay, we both are... Can I say hi?" Which in the language of Mia, means: "Can I pester for information until people want to take my life?"

  "She's not really in the mood, right now. But I do need to talk to you, later on today or perhaps tomorrow. Do you have an hour you can spare?"

  "Sure, is something wrong?"

  "I just have something I need to discuss with you. When would be good for you?"

  "Anytime. Ethan and I don't have any plans, for once."

  Oh, how that fills my head with images I do not need. "All right, this evening, say, six o'clock? Let me say goodbye to Ethan."

  "Okay big brother. See you later. Love you bunches. Hey Ethan!"

  I have to hold the phone away. Yeah, sis, love you too. That's why what I have to tell you is so hard.

  "Chris?"

  "Ethan, I need a favor."

  ~oOo~

  The drizzle fits my mood well. I downshift for better traction, directing my thoughts toward getting home safely. Krissy will kill me if I get into an accident, especially if it happened because I was driving upset.

  My sister hates me. I told her, well... not everything, but enough. Everything to do with Lily, she knows. She always wondered about things between us, and I imagine she feels betrayed on both sides. Lily never told her about what we did, either. I sort of wonder why. Perhaps I'll discover the truth Monday... the circle of damage will close when I meet with Lily.

  Mom looked Krissy over and deemed her fit. Krissy rolled her eyes when I mentioned they were coming for lunch, she knew it was mostly for her. She and Mom talked a while. Dad and I did the same. Ryan climbed all over my father, oblivious as usual to our discussion. I marvel at how well he's able to occupy himself, and my mind wanders.

  …

  The soft knock at the threshold to my office startled me.

  "Gamma!" Ryan exclaims, dropping his cars and running to my mother. I rise automatically.

  "Mother," I nod.

  "Edward," she nods back, swinging her grandson into her arms. She's recovered from her illness quite well, it seems. "Have a minute?"

  "Of course," Anything for you, Mom. I wish you knew that. I gesture to the seating area. She plops down with Ryan in her lap, and Ryan scrambles to get back to his cars. She releases him with a loving swat on the behind.

  "How was your talk with Krissy?"

  Mom pats the seat next to her. I freeze momentarily. Is this where forgiveness begins? I round the sofa and sink carefully next to her, as though unsettling her cushion may trigger the bomb.

  "Krissy is going to be fine
. She's all kinds of upset, and understandably so. It's been a rough few months for her, and much more than she should have had to handle. I think she should talk to someone."

  "She can talk to me," I say quietly.

  "Of course she can. And she will... but I meant a professional, Edward. Someone familiar in coping with the loss of a child. You both ought to go."

  "Of course, Mother. I'll see to it straight away." My posture is like that of a child in the midst of a lecture for some wrongdoing. One leg tucked behind the other, hands folded in my lap, eyes down. Not quite submissive, but remorseful. I lean sideways into the back of the couch.

  "Are we speaking?" I tentatively ask.

  She raises an eyebrow. "Aren't we speaking now?"

  I shift a bit. "That's not what I meant." My eyes fly to Ryan. I'm not sure we should have this conversation with him present, but he's migrated his collection under my desk and out of obvious earshot. He wouldn't understand the context anyway, and so I vow to keep my tone quiet.

  When my mother speaks again, her voice is low, but quivering. "I'm still angry with you, Edward. So blown away, I hardly know what to say to you."

  I wish I knew specifically which part hurt her the most, so that I may address her concerns. It's a go-to business tactic, but the only means I have that feels even remotely comfortable in this grandly uncomfortable conversation. "I'm sorry, Mother. Sorrier than you can imagine. At the heart of the matter, I'm most devastated that any of this touched Kristina. I wish I knew what to say to you, to assure you that I'm not the person I once was. All those things, those mistakes... they're part of my past. A past I'm not proud of." My hand lifts of its own will, an attempt I realize meant to reach out, but I don't know if she'll recoil from my touch. It wouldn't surprise me, and I'd deserve it. "I imagine you're beyond ashamed of me."

  Mom states at me, perhaps through me. She shakes her head. "Do you even understand at all?"

  I shrug. "I'm not sure. Some, perhaps. I never wanted you to know that side of me, Mom. I was ashamed, even then, of what you'd think of my lifestyle. It gave me an outlet, a sense of control over my life. I can explain any part of it to you, should you desire that. But it was something I needed; I still believe that, to this day. I'd be in a very dark place at present had I not chosen to pursue it as long as I did."

  My mother shakes her head again. "And what of your relationship with Lily? Was she a part of that?"

  "No, no... never," I explain quickly. "Lily was... a mistake, made in haste. I regretted it then, and certainly now, but for different reasons. I didn't let you know the real me back then. You wouldn't have wanted to know that... person." I stop myself from using another descriptive word... monster. There are enough proverbial worms sliming across the space-time continuum at the moment. "I was constantly angry. At everyone, you saw that every day while I was a teenager."

  Mom shudders. She's thinking about what she feels she allowed to happen. It kills me that she still blames herself. She's known about that almost as long as Krissy has been a part of our lives, and when she thought she knew everything, there was still more. More poison leaching out, and touching everyone around me. I hate that it now touches the purest force in my life.

  My voice remains even. "After... her... I didn't endeavor to use anyone, but, well... it was a far better alternative to choosing random targets. I still had so much unfocused anger within me. Those I liaised with were consenting adults, familiar and comfortable with the methods. I'm sure Dad explained that. No one was unwilling. Not even Lily. And I didn't bring her into all that... it was just once. It was a mistake, and it was before I'd taken the lifestyle as my own. I regret avoiding her afterward, but it was the only way I knew to discourage her from pursuing me again. I didn't do it to hurt her directly, or to ignore her condition... I simply didn't know."

  Candid chats between my mother and I are few and far between, but when they occur, the opposite of what I envision usually happens: my mouth opens, and words fall out. She listens. I'm berated for something, I apologize, and she tells me how much she loves me. This time, I see that last part fluttering away like a tissue in a windstorm. I wait for her reaction. And wait.

  And wait.

  "I know I've disappointed you terribly," I continue. "Perhaps beyond a point of no return... but please, I beg you not to see Kristina in any but the purest light, despite my past choices and behavior."

  My mother continues to stare at me. After a moment she shakes her head. "Oh, Edward, what will it take to make you understand? If one day, heaven forbid... T-E-D-D-Y..." she spells, and we both look in his direction. He's still playing obliviously by the floor to ceiling window. "If he were to engage in something so... forbidden," she continues, "and you were to find out about it much, much later, especially after all the laundry had supposedly been long since aired..."

  "Yes, Mom. I have thought about it that way. It's been at the forefront of my mind so many times since I became a father. I'm going to do everything I can to ensure that he knows he can always come to us. If I'm any indication, I realize that it may not work, and there may be things he'll keep to himself. But I'm going to try my hardest. As you did, for me." The weight of my words rests heavily over me, and I lower my head to my hands. "I can only hope to be half as good a parent to him as you've been to the three of us."

  Thin, gentle fingers run through my shaggy locks. I know I need a cut, badly. My regular stylist has been out of commission. I lift my head, and my mother's eyes have softened. Her touch continues, stroking my scalp. I want to close my eyes at the contact, but I couldn't stand to break her gaze. I fear her next words. I also fear what further damage I could cause what's left of our relationship by speaking again.

  "I'm overwhelmed by it all. And hurt. And so angry, though not only at you."

  "Please don't be mad at Krissy," I beg.

  "Edward, for heaven's sake. I'm not upset with Krissy. I'm upset for Krissy. I find it ridiculous that you'd suggest I could harbor any ill will toward the woman who quite literally saved my son from a lifetime in the darkness." She goes quiet again, and her fingers drop to her lap.

  I swallow. "I'm no longer your victory dance."

  My mother then does something she's never done to me before. She pulls back and swats me on the shoulder... hard. Her face is incredulous. "Edward King, have you not learned anything? Everything you chose to reveal to us, all those things you'd kept private so long out of fear of what we'd think... It shows how far you've come, to trust us to do right by you. It was the very first thing I'd hoped I'd earn from you, your trust. And it's taken longer than all the other hopes and dreams I've had for you, but aside from my children's love, it's what I've wanted most. It's the holy grail of Edward Trevelyan King. And I finally have that. You're more my victory dance now than you ever were."

  ~oOo~

  I find Krissy and Kate surrounded by junk food in the home theater. As I lean over the back of the loveseat to press a kiss to the top of her head, I inhale deeply. Her hair smells so good... Like freshly cut jasmine petals. It soothes my weary soul. Krissy's hand reaches up to cup my cheek, and I hold it there for a moment, pressing a kiss to her palm before releasing her.

  "How is Girl's Night?" I ask.

  I cashed in Kate's favor earlier than expected, and of course she came running when I said I had something to take care of, and didn't want to leave Krissy on her own. Well, she's never truly on her own, but it's not like she really wants to spend quality time with the staff, and Ryan's just not one for conversation unless it revolves around fictional characters or my coveted hazelnut cookies. I'm still a tad steamy about that one.

  Kate throws me a look of one part hostility and at least seven parts sympathy. That's the usual ratio these days. My odds are looking up. I should have asked instead how the Kavanagh Inquisition was progressing... as that's what this likely is... which might have elicited a feistier response.

  "Much needed," Krissy answers. "Might we have a few more minutes?"

 
; There's my cue to get the hell out. "Of course, baby. Ryan asleep?"

  "He's probably milking another story out of Ina."

  "I'll go check. Take your time, I'll be in the gym." I kiss her head again as I leave.

  As expected, my son is on his fourth story, noting the stack of books discarded on the side table. Carter does all the voices to near perfection, probably part of the allure for his thirty-month-old mind. I observe for a moment and back out of the doorway unnoticed only by Ryan.

  I still have the need to hit something, so the workout of choice is kickboxing. I don some athletic shorts and set up the heavy bag. No gloves tonight. I need to feel this.

  Knuckles and shins bruised and abraded but not yet bleeding, I deem my body sufficiently punished and mind marginally settled, or at least, within acceptable parameters for sleep. I slip into the downstairs shower, taking longer than usual, turning the temperature down a notch at a time. Examining my hands, I chide myself for going so far. These are going to hurt tomorrow. I smear cream over my knuckles and wrap them lightly in gauze.

  I find Krissy asleep in our bed. I drop my towel and pull on boxers, and then slip under the sheets behind her, drawing her gently to my chest. She flinches.

  "Just me, baby," I whisper.

  "Your hands," she murmurs sleepily, her voice filled with concern.

  "I'm all right," I adjust so the gauze no longer makes contact with her skin. Her hands find mine in the darkness, lightly brushing the loose fabric. "What happened?"

  "Disagreement with the heavy bag," I say, pressing my lips to her hair. "Don't worry, I won."

  "Was it that bad?"

  I sigh. She knows only part of the reason I went so far. It's going to take some getting used to; having her know me so well again. "About what I expected. Mia feels betrayed, and so angry. I expected as much. I imagine we won't speak for a while. My sister can outlast our mother in administering the silent treatment." Krissy stiffens in my arms.

  "What?" I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  "Krissy?" I prod. When she doesn't answer, I turn her around in my arms. "What is it, baby?"