Page 80 of Ardently Yours

Charlotte makes a sound in her throat. I can guess what she's thinking.

“It sounds mercenary and cold-blooded because it was.” I glance her way. “I'd like to blame our decision to get married on being young, but we were both older than you are now. At the time, I didn’t see what difference it made who I married, as long as she advanced or maintained the McRae social standing.”

She frowns, and I look away, ashamed.

“I didn’t believe in love. Of a parent for a child, sure.” I scoff. “Even that, I had wrong. I had no idea how those boys would change everything about the way I saw the world. But romantic love? As far as I was concerned, that was sexual chemistry with a pretty name.”

“You didn't believe inlove?” Of course she’s shocked. She’s never known anything else.

I lift her knuckles and press a kiss there. “Not until you.”

Charlotte leans against my side, and I wrap my arm around her, my fingers sinking into the curve of her hip to keep her there. “You think you could be a liability because of who you are and how you were raised. Those aren’t the things that matter. I don’t need someone who looks good on paper. I needyoubecause you’re the other half of my soul. Two people can seem perfect on the outside and be dying on the inside. I was unhappy in that marriage and coped with it by obsessing over my job and taking care of the boys. She was even more miserable than I was. By the time Henry was four months old, she was self-medicating with affairs, prescription drugs, and alcohol. She was beautiful, often publicly intoxicated, and suspected of serial cheating on a McRae. The press had a field day with her. She was caught in a vicious cycle. The more the press hounded her, the more she spiraled to avoid coping with it. The more she spiraled . . .” I lift my free hand, then drop it.

“I expected a relationship like the one my parents have. Reserved, yes. But with mutual respect and a level of comfortable affection. I wasn’t an asshole.” I shake my head.“Maybe I was, but I tried to do the things I believed a husband was supposed to do. I remember walking into a room once and finding her crying. I told her I was there if she needed me and tried to put my arms around her. She said, and I quote, ‘This isn’t who we are. If I need to talk to someone, I’ll call one of my friends.’”

Charlotte’s face crumples in sympathy.

I look out toward the water, but my eyes don’t focus on anything at all. “When she found out she was pregnant with Gabriel, she admitted she couldn’t stop drinking or taking the pills on her own. It was the first time she’d ever asked for or accepted my support. I took her to rehab. I ripped the house apart, so I could get rid of every stash she’d hidden. She did a 12-step program, and I readCodependent No More. She avoided the friends she used to party with, like Ethan Jamison, and stayed sober.” I huff bitterly. “So the press celebrated her recovery. There was no escaping them,even then. I thought she and I had turned a corner. We weren’t in love with each other, but I thought we’d become . . . friends. When she started using again, she hid it from me. In her mind, I became the enemy standing between her and what she wanted.”

I force myself to unclench my hands and relax my shoulders. “She worked hard to give Gabriel a chance. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.” I shake my head. “And part of me will alwayshate herfor the way she died in front of Henry. They say I’m not supposed to feel that way. They say I’m supposed to forgive the things she did under the influence because she was an addict. I never have and never will. I know she was ill. But it wasn’t an excuse for the way she traumatized and endangered my boys.”

I swallow. “The photos they took at her funeral, the ones where Henry was crying for his mother—” I shake my head. “Everyone thinks my thousand-yard stare was grief.”

I finally look into Charlotte’s eyes and force my words past the fist in my throat. “It was. But it was also regret. And rage and guilt and betrayal. I didn’t protect my children from her. I should have left and filed for full custody before she became pregnant a second time. We were on the verge of it, but neither of us wanted to deal with the fallout from a high-profile divorce. I justified staying because she kept it away from Henry. She was . . . functional. And he adored his mother. I got comfortable during her pregnancy. I thought it was over.”

I need Charlotte to understand. “She was a good mother when she was sober.”

Charlotte nods, her eyes wet. “I believe you.”

I suck in a breath through my nose, then blow it out through my mouth. “She hated our life together. I thought . . . Iused to thinka life with me would break anyone.”

Charlotte rests her hand against my jaw. “Her self-destructive coping mechanisms were terrible and sad. But they weren’t your fault. Some people go to therapy. When I’m struggling, I organize my cupboards and bake too many cookies. AndI call you,and you let me complain and tell me to buy gym mats and pull-up bars.”

I nod. “Yes.” I laugh, but there’s more relief in it than humor. “Yes. I know. I lean on you the same way. I’m stronger because I have you in my corner. You and our children are what matter. Everything else is just noise.”

I kiss her, pulling her to me and lifting her onto my lap. When she straddles me and wraps her arms around my neck, I lock her against me with my arms tight around her waist.

I lift my head, and she drops hers to my shoulder, and we hold on. For a long, long time.

Eventually, I relax my grip, and she lifts her head, then takes a deep breath.

“It’s almost time to bring the kids in. Don’t you think?” she asks.

I squeeze her too hard, then let go when she squeaks in laughter.

“Graduation is less than three months away. We could try a family vacation together. What do you think?” she asks.

I tug her dress up her thighs. “Our kids will love each other.”

“Really?"

When I nuzzle her neck and slide my hands all the way up to cup her ass, she shivers in pleasure.

“This will be the easy part.”

I Love You Always Forever

College Graduation

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