Chapter 2 - A MARRIAGE WITHOUT TRUST
“You didn’t know,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“Neither did I until Monday.”
Their wedding had been Friday.
Adrian lowered himself onto the edge of the bed.
For the first time since Emily had met him, he looked less like a millionaire CEO and more like a tired man who had just discovered that his own family had been moving pieces around a board while pretending he was the player.
“Why didn’t you walk away?” he asked.
Emily looked at him.
“My father begged me not to.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
She folded her arms around herself.
“My dad made terrible business decisions because he was trying to keep the plant open. He should have told me the truth earlier. He should never have agreed to discuss my marriage as part of a financial arrangement.”
“Then why protect him?”
“I’m not protecting him.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I’m protecting the machinist who has worked there for twenty-six years. I’m protecting the woman in payroll whose husband died last spring. I’m protecting families who had nothing to do with my father’s pride.”
She drew a breath.
“And maybe I’m weak enough that when my mother cried and asked me to help, I couldn’t say no.”
Adrian stared at her.
Emily turned toward the bathroom.
“I’ll sleep in the guest room.”
“Emily.”
She stopped.
His voice had lost its cruelty.
“I was wrong.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“That quickly?”
“I saw the documents.”
“And papers suddenly made me respectable?”
“No.”
“Then what did?”
He had no answer.
Emily nodded slowly.
“That’s what I thought.”
She reached for the bathroom door.
“Emily.”
This time there was something almost desperate in his tone.
She turned again.
Adrian stood.
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
“No. You shouldn’t have.”
“I thought…”
“I know what you thought.”
Her composure finally cracked.
“You thought I sold myself.”
Adrian’s silence confirmed it.
Emily blinked rapidly.
Then she said something so softly that he nearly missed it.
“I’ve never even slept with anyone.”
Adrian froze.
Emily’s face colored immediately, but she forced herself to continue.
“Not because that makes me virtuous. It doesn’t. And not because I think women who have are somehow less respectable. They aren’t.”
She met his eyes.
“But you looked at me tonight like I had spent my entire life planning how to get into some wealthy man’s bed.”
Her voice shook.
“I have never been in anyone’s bed, Adrian.”
The room became completely silent.
“I had one serious boyfriend in college,” she continued. “We broke up because he wanted a life in California and I wanted to stay near my mother after her surgery. Since then I’ve worked, taken care of my family, volunteered at a literacy center, and apparently prepared myself to become collateral in a business deal.”
Adrian looked sick.
“Emily…”
“So if you’re wondering whether I expect anything from you tonight, don’t worry.”
She reached for the zipper on the garment bag containing her clothes.
“I don’t want to be touched by a man who thinks so little of me.”
That sentence hit harder than any insult could have.
Adrian stepped backward.
“You’re right.”
Emily stopped.
“I am?”
“You should not let me touch you.”
Something changed in his expression.
Shame.
Not embarrassment.
Shame.
“I judged you before I knew you.”
“Yes.”
“I wanted someone to blame.”
“Yes.”
“And you were convenient.”
The bitter irony made her laugh.
“Apparently convenience is the foundation of our marriage.”
Adrian looked down at the papers still in his hand.
“No.”
She frowned.
“No?”
“It may be how this marriage started.”
His eyes returned to hers.
“But it doesn’t have to be how we behave inside it.”
Emily studied him cautiously.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the bedroom is yours.”
“This is your bedroom.”
“Not tonight.”
“Adrian—”
“I’ll take the guest room.”
He walked toward the door, then stopped.
“I won’t ask anything physical from you. Ever. Not unless you ask first.”
Emily swallowed.
“And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow I find out why my mother authorized that financing package.”
He looked back at her.
“And I find a way to make sure your family’s employees aren’t dependent on whether you remain married to me.”
For the first time that day, Emily didn’t know what to say.
Adrian opened the door.
“Good night, Emily.”
She watched him disappear down the hallway.
A minute later, she sat on the enormous bed alone.
She should have felt relieved.
Instead, she began to cry.
Quietly.
Not because her husband had rejected her.
Because for the first time since the marriage negotiations began, somebody had finally admitted that what had happened to her was wrong.
In the guest bedroom, Adrian sat in darkness.
He could still hear her voice.
I have never been in anyone’s bed, Adrian.
But that wasn’t the sentence torturing him.
It was the one after it.
I don’t want to be touched by a man who thinks so little of me.
At midnight, Adrian Mercer had entered his wedding suite believing he had married a beautiful opportunist.
By two in the morning, he had realized something far uglier.
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The person who had behaved without honor wasn’t his bride.
It was him.
