The Man I Thought I Trusted - E. L. Todd Page 0,66

of my face like he didn’t care that my friends were standing there watching the scene.

It was awkward for everybody because they all knew something was wrong, but they went through the motions and took seats around the coffee table.

Dax walked away and returned to the kitchen to grab appetizers to put out.

I positioned myself across from Charlie and kept my eyes down.

Dax was still out of earshot, so Charlie asked, “What’s going on? Did something happen today?”

Kat leaned close and placed her hand on my arm. “Are you guys fighting?”

I saw Dax leave the kitchen and start to return to the living room. “We’ll talk about it later.” I grabbed the game board and set it on the table. “I know Monopoly is old, but it’s classic.”

Dax sat on the floor and leaned against the couch on another side of the table. He set down his beer and placed the bowls of chips and pretzels on the surface. His eyes were on me again, boring into my face as he stared at me.

Charlie went along with what I said. “Monopoly sounds good. Let’s do it.”

Game night didn’t have its usual fun energy. We seemed to be going through the motions, but Charlie and Matt did their best to keep things moving along like there was no tension in the room.

Dax barely said two words. If he didn’t know I was upset before, he definitely knew now.

As time went on, I felt worse.

I felt more uncomfortable being near him.

Dax stared at my face anytime he wasn’t participating in the game, like he wanted me to know that I was the only thing on his mind right now, that there was more he wanted to say but couldn’t until everybody left.

I didn’t look at him at all.

I felt like I didn’t know him anymore.

Charlie slid the dice toward me. “You’re up, Carson.”

I stared at the dice on the table without taking them. I’d officially run out of energy, pretending everything was fine. The shock of the event had worn off, and my feelings started to become clear.

They got really quiet, like they knew I was about to say something. Dax’s gaze was on me with laser focus.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I dropped my gaze as I felt my eyes start to water. I was in pain for a lot of reasons, but the idea of losing him hurt the most.

Dax took a deep breath, just the sound alone showing all his pain. “Sweetheart, when I talked to you about the prenup, you said you were fine—”

“It’s not about the prenup.” I took a breath and let my wet eyes become dry again. I lifted my chin and looked at him, my friends absolutely still like they hoped we wouldn’t be able to see them if they didn’t move.

His voice came out as a whisper. “Then what is it?”

I turned my head to look at him, to see the fear in his eyes. “I thought I was going to sign a two-page document that I could quickly read through. Instead, you hit me with a team of ten lawyers and notaries serving me stacks of paperwork like we were in court and you were suing me.”

He sighed quietly. “My sister was in charge of all that. Since half the company is hers, she wants to make sure there’s no chance that—”

“And I totally understand that. I don’t care about your money. I don’t want it. But I just…felt so insignificant. I felt like a weak person facing off against a corporation I couldn’t possibly beat. It was dirty, the way the paperwork was served to me without me even having an opportunity to read it or understand what I was signing. Prenups are ten pages at most, Dax. Why did I need to sign two-thousand-pages’ worth of paperwork?”

Everyone’s eyes shifted back and forth as they watched us talk.

Dax was quiet as he considered his answer. “Because the corporation owns a lot of different assets in all different facets—”

“Why didn’t you explain that to me? Why weren’t there just two pieces of paper that said everything that’s yours remains yours? Why did you let me walk in there and look like an idiot while I was ganged up on by a bunch of suits?”

“You weren’t ganged up on—”

“This was supposed to be between you and me, husband and wife, along with a lawyer and a couple pieces of paper. This didn’t feel intimate at all. This was a sterile conquering.