After The I Do (Meeting At The Fault Line Book 1)

by Autumn Breeze

  “Ben!” I call, knowing he isn’t far. He could be halfway across the house and he would still hear me.

  He appears at my side only a couple moments later. “Sir?” he inquires, an eyebrow lifted.

  “I’m going into the city for a few hours. I’ll be back before dinner.”

  “Should I have an extra plate prepared for dinner?” he asks.

  I think about it for a moment before deciding. “Yes.”

  47

  “You wished to see me?” Everett speaks from the living room doorway. I turn to face him, drawing my eyes away from a painting over the fireplace that is clearly his work. He shifts from one foot to another, his fingers twisting together as I inspect him.

  “Everett . . . ” I trail off, at a loss of how to begin. Things are so messy between us. Our relationship is so complicated now. I long for the days before his betrayal, before I let my anger and hurt eat at what could have easily been mended if I had simply tried. “You look . . . ”

  He looks wounded. There is a shadow in his eyes that exists because of me, because of the way I have treated him these past few months. In his expression, I can see myself as I really am and I am ashamed. He deserved better but not from someone else; he deserved better from me.

  I should have…I suppose there are a lot of things I should have done.

  “I was unpacking,” he explains, dusting himself off.

  “Have you gotten very far?” I ask, taking a step toward him while slipping a hand in my pocket. My mouth is dry with fear.

  Everett shakes his head. “I’ll probably save most of it for tomorrow. I’m . . . tired today.”

  “Would you like to maybe sit?” I inquire, gesturing to the sofa nearest the fireplace. Everett glances at it before pulling his gaze back to me.

  “I . . . I’d like to stand if you have something to say,” he replies. I opened my mouth before closing it. Where do I begin? How do I ask him to come home, back to the estate? “Have you changed your mind about Mason’s apartment?” he questions when the silence drags.

  “The apartment is yours. I . . . ” Shoving one of my hands into my hair, I closed my eyes. My mind races for something to grasp onto. “Do you remember our first meeting after we married—the one in my father’s study?”

  It had been unconventional at best. My first words to him should have never been, ‘So . . . I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.’

  Everett swallows hard. “I do.”

  “When I was mending your hand, you told me you weren’t married by choice and I told you I made mine. I choose our marriage. I choose you.” Flicking my tongue out, I wet my lips. Everett steps further into the room. I slowly approach him so we are standing mere feet apart.

  “I made promises; I made a vow. I know . . . ” my heart squeezes, “they weren’t binding in the eyes of the law but . . . Everett—” I reach out, sliding my fingers along his jaw. My thoughts splinter as he peers at me with wet eyes. There is a world of hurt in his gaze.

  I have been a fool just as Duke stated.

  “We are . . . not what we were, but we have never been what we could have been if this marriage had been both of our choices. If you had a say so, if you could do as you desire, would you marry me, Everett? Would you give us the chance to get this right? I think . . . I believe if given the chance, we could be happy together—more so than before.”

  It would be hard work but I had never been scared of such a thing. Everett is worth the effort. Our marriage is worth the time it would take to mend our break.

  “You want to marry me?” Everett asks, searching my face.

  I shake my head. Everett frowns. “I married you once, Everett. My motives may not have been pure but I made my choice. No one forced my hand. I want you to marry me. I want you to choose our marriage. I want you to choose me as I did you.”

  I want him to willingly consent to being my husband, to honoring our vows. What I want is an honest marriage between us. Given the chance, I want us to start again, to build something new together—preferably a happy life filled with love.

  It isn’t a hard request. I love him. Despite everything, I know he loves me. Love may not be enough right now, but maybe the fact that it was at one time is enough to see us through. It’s something. It’s a reason.

  “But . . . what about—”

  I shake my head, already knowing what he is going to say. “It’s in the past, part of our story but not what should define it. I’m still hurt. I think I will be hurt for a long time but . . . you chose me and mine in the end, didn’t you?” He had chosen me a dozen times over these past few months. I was simply asking him to choose me one last time.

  “You could have left me in that cage, left me to whatever Evaline planned, but you didn’t. You may be the reason my family was in danger but . . . you are also the reason my family is alive.” He may have betrayed me but he made that wrong right when he betrayed Evaline.

  I should have realized that sooner.

  “Mason—” Everett starts.

  “Mason loved you,” I cut him off again. “He considered you his best friend, his brother in every sense of the word. You are not the reason he is dead. And as much as I miss my little brother, I would not trade your life for his, Everett. Mason made his choice the same as I did. He died loyal to you. I’ve never found fault in your actions or his that day,” I stress, willing him to believe I don’t blame him for what happened to Mason.

  If Mason had lived and Everett had not, I would have been just as upset but placed the blame where it belonged—with Evaline. She is gone, no longer able to inflict damage on our lives unless we allow her to. I have no intentions of giving a dead woman that kind of power.

  “If I had told you, this all could have been avoided. Mason would at least be alive.”

  “There are no guarantees Mason would have lived. People die in war. That is the nature of them. We will all endure years in which we wonder what we could have done differently but . . . things are what they are. We can’t change what has happened.” I don’t want to. The lessons we have learned over these past few months are important, ones I will carry with me for eternity.

  “I wish we could,” Everett mutters and I swallow, my heart feeling as if it is caught in a vice.

  “What parts would you change?” I ask.

  How far would he go back? What of this past year would he erase if he could?

  “All of it,” he replies and I close my eyes for barely a second.

  “Fair enough.” He never wanted the marriage. Even if he loves me, he is still young and just discovering a life without the looming presence of his father. I let him go and it appears, he is happy with that choice. “I do wish you happy, Everett. I hope we can be friends.”

  “Wait. What?” he questions, his lips pulling down before his eyes widen. Reaching out, he lays his hand on my forearm. “I would change everything but you. I would change being forced into marriage with you when if I had been given the chance to know you first, I would have easily chosen to be your husband, Thanos. I would change the . . . the lies, the betrayal, Mason . . . ” Everett shakes his head. “I will marry you again. But . . . ”

  “But?” I ask when he lapses into silence.

  “I think we should see a counselor. And . . . I . . . I want to, uh . . . date? We never did that before. I’ve never done that period and I . . . I want to with you. Is that okay?” He searches my face and I offer a soft smile.

  “If you’ll find a counselor you like, I’ll spend some time clearing my schedule, arranging a few things so I have time. Would you come home, though, Everett? We could take our walks again. Maybe . . . you’d like to learn how to manage a few of the business and estate matters?” Everett’s eyes widen. “Mother always helped and I know it was a relief to my father.”

  “You . . . you’d trust me with that?” he asks.

  Turning my arm, I slide my fingers down his wrist until I am grasping his hand. “You chose us.” He chose me over and over
. “I was foolish to not realize that sooner. Mason realized it. Everyone else did, too. I was too hurt, too stupid to see it, too. I should have before them, though. I am sorry, Everett. I am so sorry.”

  Everett shakes his head. “Can I ask you something?”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  “Did you let me catch you that first time I chased you? Did you trip on purpose?” he asks.

  I laugh softly. “No, любимый, I did not trip on purpose. It was a fair win.”

  He got me because I wasn’t paying attention.

  “You’re finally admitting I won,” he teases and I reach out, drawing him against my chest. He feels right in my arms—like he belongs.

  “So far as I am concerned, I’m the victorious one,” I inform him.

  “How so?” he wonders aloud.

  “I have you now, don’t I?” I mutter against his ear as his arms slip around my waist. His fingers twist in my shirt as we stand pressed together.

  “You’ll have to settle for a tie,” he whispers back, pressing his head into my shoulder. I close my eyes, my grasp tightening for a moment.

  “I’ll settle for taking you home. Benjamin is expecting you,” I inform him; he laughs softly.

  “Did you come here expecting me to come home?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “No, but I had hoped.”

  Turning his head, Everett presses his lips against my jaw. “You’re helping me pack.”

  “Oh, I finally get to see your bedroom. Should I be worried?” I tease as he steps back.

  “Very, as I have plans to make use of the bed,” he returns, grabbing my hand and tugging me from the living room.

  “You’re a tease,” I protest. I can’t very well touch him in his mother’s home. What if his siblings burst into the room? What if his mother comes upon us? I shiver with the very thought. The last person I want to find me over top of Everett is Mrs. Dawson.

  “Only if you intend to deny me,” he retorts, leading the way up a set of stairs.

  My eyes drop to the soft sway of his hips as I laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it, любимый.”

  About the Author

  In October 1991, Autumn Breeze was born at 11PM in Clarksville, Tennessee where she grew up in a large family consisting of two brothers, one sister, dozens of cousins, a couple of dogs, multiple cats, and just as many chickens. There were also a few fish, ducks, rabbits, and one daring caged rat named Leaf.

  Now she is a mother, wife and the owner of a hyperactive dog named Bristol with a bad habit of chewing on everything, including but not limited to shoes, dishes, clothes, feet and hands.

  You may contact her through her at any time for any reason! She loves hearing from fellow readers and writers alike.

  Website : www.authorautumnbreeze.com

  Email : autumnbreeze91@gmail.com