“For someone so intelligent and accomplished, you really are stupid when it comes to people.”
He jerks back in his chair, and his face falls. My words have really hurt him.
“I… I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“Just tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads. “We need to communicate.”
I clear my throat. I really don’t want to get into this, but I have no choice since he doesn’t seem to have a clue. “Okay, well,” I start. “At first, I was upset because you cancelled Saturday.”
“Again… I’m sorry. I had a crisis at work. Two crises actually.”
I shake my head. “Well, I found your message abrupt, and I was hoping you would send me another message, or maybe even call me to explain better.”
He blows out a long breath. “I was swamped all weekend, Gretchen. I had to deal with major issues with one of my buildings. And I also had the kids, and Elizabeth got her first menstruation and all hell broke loose. When it rains, it pours.”
“Oh…”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more specific, and I’m sorry I didn’t contact you again.”
Now I officially feel like a huge idiot. “I’m sorry… I just…” my words trail off. I don’t know how to say what I want to say, the fact that I often feel taken for granted, that I’d like to know I mean something to him. “I just think that you don’t really care about me,” I finally manage. “You don’t love me the way you loved Mirella.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I sound like a spoiled child. What the hell is wrong with me?
He stares up at me for a long beat, and I can’t quite decipher his expression. “No, I don’t,” he finally says.
My heart breaks. Into a million pieces. It happens so fast, it leaves me completely breathless.
He rises from his desk and makes his way to me. He takes my hand. “I don’t love you the way I loved Mirella,” he tells me. “I love you in a completely different way, Gretchen. You’re a completely different person. How could I possibly love you the same way I loved her.”
I’m frozen, not quite believing his words. I process them slowly as I struggle to reach the individual thoughts expressed. He loves me.
I swallow the lump painfully lodged in my throat. “I love you in a completely different way too. I loved Donovan with all my heart, and I always will. But now I love you too. My life is all about you.”
“My life is all about you too,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry I upset you. I’ll try to be more considerate in the future.”
He takes me in his arms, and I fall into sobs unexpectedly. I cry on his shoulder for what seems like hours, and he holds me patiently. Finally, I tear myself from him, and stare down at my hands. I reach for my finger, and slowly peel my wedding ring off. “Can you help me with this?” I ask. “I’d like to keep it on my chain.”
“I can,” he says softly.
I turn from him, and grab a handful of hair. I twist it and secure it on top of my head. He kisses the nape of my neck softly, and then carefully unclasps my necklace, the one with the diamond heart, a gift from Donovan on our first anniversary.
I turn back to him, and he helps me slip the ring on the chain. I spin around again, and we repeat the process. Once the chain is clasped, he kisses me once more, and I smile.
39
The week is uneventful. I’ve torn up my resignation letter, and Mr. Hanson and I agree to never speak of it again. I make very good inroads with the campaign, and Weston is still very busy dealing with work issues. Yet, he kindly sends me multiple updates, keeping me in the know. We make love only twice, and he spanks me once for not keeping my desk tidy.
When Saturday finally comes around, I’m excited once again. We’ve rescheduled our family date, and I can’t wait to spend time with the both of them together.
Weston’s town car picks us up.
“Hello, Miss Gretchen,” Edward offers. “Nice to see you again.”
“Hello, Edward. This is Ethan.”
They shake hands. “I bet he’s a handful. I’ve got one of my own, just a bit older. He sure keeps me young.”
I’m surprised by his revelation. Edward is not a young man. “Yes, they do that all right.”