Page 76 of Bound to Him
Okay, I’d really thought we had a chance, but I’d been kidding myself from the second that stupid idea of staying married hit my obviously faulty gray matter. I knew better. Sure, the world hadn’t ended when I’d started keeping more regular hours. And no, the net worth of my company hadn’t tanked because I’d taken a weekend off here and there.
I stared at the arched front door of the main academic building, which was the last place Antoine had said he and Noah were touring. I tapped my fingers on the dashboard and glared. Athena was a fucking gem and I loved her. She’d been helping out in my office a few days a week. The girl was one smart cookie—not that Noah wasn’t—but she had the fire to learn how to make a business function, and I could tell she was sucking in all my advice like a sponge. When I handed the company back to the board I’d selected to keep it safe for Noah, she would be on the short list to run it in the next ten years.
Giving myself a shake, I shoved open the door and hopped out. Absolutely nothing had changed, at all, and I was sulking. Worst of all I’d put Noah on guard again, which I didn’t like. I couldn’t enjoy what time I had left with him if he was upset with me. Sighing once more, I walked to the front door and inside.
Of course, the first person I spotted when I entered was Noah. His dark gray suit fit him like a glove, and the green tie he wore made his eyes glimmer brighter. He was standing with a group of professionally dressed men and women, and the hurt and anger from this morning hit me all over again.
I’d been planning on not mentioning the divorce—ignoring it. He’d brought it up. Clearly, living in a fantasyland wouldn’t work. I’d had months with him, but panic ate at me. I still hadn’t done half of everything I wanted with him.
Scowling, I watched as Noah smiled, gracious and cute, and said something, but I could tell the man with his back facing me, who Noah was talking to, cut him off. Noah, polite as ever, didn’t usually speak over anyone, and every time he opened his mouth, the other man kept going, waving a hand to enforce whatever he was blabbing about. I had enough of watching my husband struggle and strolled over.
“Alton is an amazing benefactor to the school, but why did he send you instead of coming himself?” I realized the man speaking was a teacher I’d met previously. I hadn’t disliked him prior to today, but I hated the condescending tone and the way Noah’s bottom lip jutted.
“W-what do you think I can’t do for you?” Noah asked, and while his game face didn’t slip, I could hear the barely concealed irritation in his tone. Someone who didn’t know him probably had no idea how close he was to snapping.
The teacher’s shoulders squared. “Do you know anything about education? Are you in finance? I know you were aDivine, but it’s not like your family ever donated to the academy. You’re not an alumnus. You know nothing about what we need here. You’re barely older than our seniors. Excuse me for not having much confidence in your ability to accurately pass on the needs of the school.”
Noah flushed, and I wasn’t sure what he was about to say, but I couldn’t stand to let this go on any longer and stepped around the group of people to smoothly slide my arm over his shoulders. He glanced up at me and let out a long breath.
“My husband is an observant man. He’s a Bouchard, and more than capable of representing us here at the academy. Sir, I forgot your name.” I held out a hand and smiled.
The teacher shook with me and sweat beaded on his brow. “Kerwin Jones. I conduct chemistry and astronomy classes.”
Noah leaned against my side and I was happy to hold him. “I did notice the school was STEM heavy and the arts were neglected, but maybe that was only me.”
“We want our boys to go on to do good things.” Mr. Jones’ lip curled and it was clear what he thought of softer subjects, which had Noah stiffening in my grasp. “The arts are fine for offering a well-rounded curriculum, although ultimately unnecessary.”
“Oh, so you don’t watch television, listen to music, or hang art?” Noah smiled.
“Uh....” Mr. Jones glanced at me and sighed. One of the women with him tittered and the rest of the faculty started to laugh. I hugged Noah closer.
“You know, I donate money soallthe kids can have a chance to do what makes them happy. It was a scholarship that started me on my path to where I am. Without it, I’d still be fixing fences on my family’s farm.”
“You still do that,” Noah said under his breath, and I nudged him with my hip.
There was more polite laughter, and now that I was on the scene, the attention shifted to me. Questions were fired at me nonstop, requests made at lightning speed, and Mr. Jones stuttered through a plea for more funding to the chemistry department, while Noah was restrained and only gave himonedirty look.
“You have a meeting with the principal in twenty minutes, Mr. Bouchard,” Antoine butted in, saving the day.
“That’s all, folks. I’ll take it all under consideration when I discuss the donations to the school and the endowment this year.”
Smiles were fast and free, and I got a handshake from everyone, and then Antoine swiftly guided us toward a set of cherrywood stairs I knew led to the principal’s study from previous visits. The wood paneling that was probably a hundred and fifty years old and absolutely everywhere gleamed in old-world perfection, and I was as momentarily stunned by the building as I had been years ago.
“I’m sorry,” Antoine said as we walked, and it took me a second to realize he was talking to Noah. “That wasn’t what I thought you would be walking into. Normally they’re not as fast to go for the throat with Mr. Bouchard.”
Noah squeezed my hand, and I glanced down at him. “I talked to the art teacher. She wasn’t part of the group we just spoke with. Did you know there is only one art teacher for four hundred kids? One. She was hoping you could personally earmark some money for the program.” He widened his eyes at me. “I liked her.” He stiffened in my grasp and didn’t quite meet my eye as he spoke, a return to the way he’d been when we first met.
How had I caused this downward spiral to happen so quickly? Anger beat at me harder. Was it my fault or was he too sensitive? My chest tightened. I wasn’t being fair, but every time I let myself consider how much of a bastard I could be, and that he was smart to not want to stay married to me, everything hurt more.
I glanced at Noah and the way he seemed beaten down by a few harsh words.He’s going to leave, so why try? That’s always what was supposed to happen. Don’t waste the energy.An endless negative refrain bashed around in my skull.
“Why didn’t you control that situation and tell the hyenas to back off?” I snapped.
“You told me I was representing you. I thought you wanted me to be polite.” I didn’t look at Noah. His glare, which I didn’t need to see to know it existed, burned as if it was a spotlight on my face.
“There’s polite and there’s being a doormat. Stop fuckin’ letting people walk all over you. You let that pissant teacher treat you like shit. You’re my husband, and anyone standing in for me shouldn’t take that.” I was being cold, worse than this morning, and couldn’t figure out how to stop.
Antoine sent me a reproachful look I ignored. “I thought your husband was doing well, considering he’s never been in this situation.”
