Falling for Her Husband: The Renaldis, Book 3

by Karen Erickson

  “Sounds like I didn’t know it then.” Amber sighed and leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. “What happened next?” she asked, her voice muffled.

  “I tried to get you to stop, but you wouldn’t. Next thing I knew, you were running into the intersection and the car struck you. I-I saw it all happen.” The anguish came rushing back at him along with the memories. “It was awful. Something I’d rather forget.”

  She dropped her hands and lifted her head, her gaze meeting his, direct and unwavering. “Were you close to me when it happened? Could you have reached out and…saved me?”

  “No, I was too far. It all happened so fast.” His voice drifted. She still stared at him hard, almost like she didn’t believe him.

  And then she proved that she really didn’t believe him.

  “So that’s how it happened, then? I mean…I remember the conversation at the studio, but after that, it’s still foggy.” She stood and he stood as well, sprinting in front of her when she started toward the bedroom door. “What are you doing?”

  “I should ask you the same thing,” he said. “Are you trying to leave?”

  “Maybe.” She started toward him, giving him a little shove against his front. “Move out of my way, Vince.”

  “No.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Do you think I’m lying, Amber?”

  “I-I don’t know.” She backed away from him with a couple of steps. “I keep having these dreams.”

  “What happens in those dreams?” He almost didn’t want to know.

  “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” She threw her hands up in the air, reminding him of that very day. She’d done the same thing, her normal indicator she was beyond frustrated with him. “You push me, okay? You’re so angry, telling me that I’ll be yours, that I’ll always be yours, and then you grab me by the shoulders and start shaking me.”

  “That…that never happened.” Something similar, but more when they were front of the Starbucks, not after she stormed away from him, running down the sidewalk.

  “It just feels so real. You’re yelling at me and you look so mad. You grab my shoulders and we’re standing right on the edge of the curb. You give me a shove and the next thing I know…” She clamped her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob before. “I’m falling,” she said, her voice muffled beneath her palm. “I see the car and then I wake up.”

  “It didn’t happen,” he murmured. “I would’ve never pushed you in front of a goddamn car, Amber. Do you really think I would?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” Her voice broke and she dropped her hand. She was full on crying now. “It just feels so incredibly real. And I keep having the same dream. It changes a little, but it always ends the same, with you shoving me into the street, in front of the car.”

  He remembered how her words, her divorce threat had devastated him that day. How it all changed in seconds and she was lying in the middle of the street, her limp body looking broken and battered. The blood all over her face, her arm at that horrible angle…

  God, he could hardly stand the thought.

  “If you believe I would do such a thing to the woman I. Fucking. Love.” He paused, his breathing harsh, his chest aching with pain and anger and sadness. “Then you don’t know me at all.”

  “Wait, Vince. What are you—” She grabbed his arm, trying to stop him, but he jerked out of her hold, going to the bed to grab his cell from where it lay in the center. “Are you leaving?”

  “Yes,” he said grimly, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I can’t stay here with you, knowing you think I’m some sort of monster.”

  “I don’t…I don’t think you’re a monster.” She rested her hand on her gently swelling belly. “I just had no idea you kept that from me, Vince. I can’t believe I wanted a divorce.”

  “I couldn’t believe it either,” he retorted as he strode down the hall, his determined steps taking him to the front door. He wanted out of there.

  Now.

  “Please don’t leave,” she said, grabbing hold of his hand and making him stop. He did so, not shaking her off, but he wouldn’t look at her either. He was hurt. His earlier fear of her finding out about their argument all changed when he realized that she believed he purposely hurt her. What sort of man did she think he was? Why would she believe he’d do such a horrible thing to her? He loved her. She was having his baby. Their relationship had been stronger than ever, yet she still believed such a horrible thing about him.

  “I just…I’m going to Stasia and Gavin’s,” he said, turning so he could look at her. “I think it’s best if we stay apart for the night. I need to get my head together. You need to gather your thoughts after remembering some of that day. I’m sure you’re in a state of shock.”

  “I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I told you my true feelings and you’re using them against me.”

  “By you saying that you suspect I pushed you in front of that car, you may as well call me a murderer, Amber. I won’t stand by and allow those poisonous thoughts to flow between us. You need to come to a decision.”

  “A decision? Are you giving me an ultimatum, like my mom?” Her voice rose and she tugged her hand from his.

  Ah, she didn’t like it. They’d argued over her parents before and she’d gone off and given them the money anyway. All of it for naught, since her dad reentered the rehabilitation facility and then bailed out of it two days later. They refused to take him back.

  Another waste, as usual.

  Determination filling him, he studied her. Hoping she understood his point. If she couldn’t trust him… “You need to believe in me,” he said. “I would never, ever hurt you Amber. Not purposely. And definitely not physically. What happened on that day was an accident. Yes, I was wrong, keeping our divorce argument from you. But I did it at first to protect you.”

  “And protect yourself,” she added.

  He sighed. “Yes. I was protecting myself too. But I did it more for you. You were so fragile, so vulnerable. You were scared of the scar on your face, your arm and how it would affect your modeling. You didn’t want to give up your career and you seemed so confused. I wanted to do what was best for you. I wanted to be somewhere safe for you. The one you could trust above everyone else.”

  “You were,” she murmured.

  “That’s the key word. Were,” he stressed. “If I can’t be what you believe in now, at this very moment, then I can’t stay here with you, Amber. We need to be strong together. For us, for our baby. Remember that.”

  And with those last words, he left the apartment.

  Amber didn’t know what to do, didn’t know who to talk to. Her mom would be no help. She’d just tell Amber not to let Vince go because he had lots of money and could take care of her. Or she’d beg her to come back home, and that was the absolute last thing Amber wanted to do.

  She couldn’t turn to Debbie Kaye because for whatever reason, she’d called her the moment she finished with her overwhelming therapy session. The moment she heard Debbie’s voice over the phone, she knew she’d done the wrong thing. But she wanted to hear the details from Debbie. Amber knew Debbie would tell her, and she had.

  Debbie had gone over every gory moment, accompanied by a strange tinge of glee in her voice. As if she relished giving Amber all of the horrible details. Not that there were many, per se. Amber had been undoubtedly shocked by the revelation that she and Vince had argued and actually discussed divorce.

  “How did you even know?” Amber had asked Debbie. “Were you there? Did you witness our argument on the sidewalk?”

  “No, I didn’t need to. You’d called me and said you were going to ask him for a divorce. I just assumed that happened and you couldn’t remember. I’m no dummy, Amber,” Debbie had drawled. “Before the accident, you told me everything. All of your problems, how much you loved Vince, how distant the two of you had become once you were married. I was your closest confidant, the one you told all of your troubles to.”

  Amber
had said nothing in response. She knew what Debbie had said was the truth. Why would she lie about this? “I remember being so frustrated with him when he showed up at the shoot. He embarrassed me, thundering about like he owned the place. Like he owned me.”

  “He always acted like he owned you, darling,” Debbie had told her. “You were finally starting to see you were your own woman once more. Then the accident happened, and poof. You fell under the delectable spell of Vincenzo Renaldi.”

  “Delectable?” Amber didn’t like the way Debbie always talked about her husband, as if she was attracted to him. “Are you hot for Vince or what?” She added a laugh at the end of the question, but she was serious. She needed to know what exactly Debbie’s feelings for Vince were.

  “Well, I won’t deny that your husband is incredibly handsome. Those smoldering dark good looks.” Debbie waited a beat. “Any woman would fall under his spell, darling.”

  “Right. And I did. Twice.” Amber paused. “Maybe you did too?”

  “Perhaps. Not that he ever noticed me once he got a look at you the first time you two met.”

  She sounded jealous. Was she really? Or was Amber being too suspicious?

  “Besides, you two fell so madly in love all over again, how could I put a stop to that?” Debbie continued.

  So very true, and Amber had fallen rather happily too, until the disturbing dreams started. And they wouldn’t stop. She started to believe in them, that her dreams were really her memories. She started to think that maybe Vince had played a more sinister part in her accident…

  But did she believe it still? Now?

  What about Debbie? Amber was starting to doubt her so-called good intentions. Maybe her agent was jealous of her relationship with her husband. Maybe Debbie wanted her own relationship with Vince, which was just all sorts wrong. She felt like she couldn’t trust anyone.

  Her husband’s earlier words had hurt, though really she knew that she’d hurt him more. Her lack of faith in him, her lack of faith in their marriage, in his love for her, had cut him to the very bone. How he kept the truth of their argument on that day of the accident hurt as well. They were both guilty in this silly, painful mess. Should she let it keep them apart? She was pregnant with their child. To separate now would be…

  Scary.

  And she didn’t want them to be apart. She loved him.

  Did he love her?

  Of course, he does, her heart whispered.

  Her mind told her otherwise.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You must go back home and speak to her,” Stasia urged, giving his shoulder a firm shake. “Listen to me, Vince. I can tell when you’re not paying attention.” They were sitting at her kitchen table drinking coffee. She’d tried to push breakfast on him, but Vince had refused. Since last night, he hadn’t had much of an appetite. He hadn’t slept well either. No surprise.

  Waving a hand at his sister, he shrugged away from her touch. He wasn’t in the mood to listen. Since his sister wouldn’t let him wallow in bed all day, he figured he’d rather sulk and watch mindless TV, something he rarely indulged in. When did he have time for television? Even when he did, he’d rather sit and talk to Amber. Or take her back to bed and make love to her through the night.

  Vince grimaced. Damn it, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. How much her words, her lack of trust in him had wounded his heart. He knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. That she’d had every right to be angry with him…

  “She needs time to cool off,” he muttered, sending a glare in Stasia’s direction when she rolled her eyes. “What?”

  “Please. More like you’re the one who needs to cool off. So you come hiding out over here, hoping I’ll tell you that you were right and she was wrong and the two of you are a big mess.” Stasia rolled her eyes again and he growled, hating how she dismissed his feelings with a few choice words.

  He and Stasia had always been the closest, since they were near in age. This also meant they fought a lot, especially when they were kids. They were older now. Stasia was a wife and mother, for God’s sake. Yet he still wanted to yank her hair and call her names for rolling her eyes at him.

  Great. Now he was reverting to his twelve-year-old little boy ways. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “What would you tell me, then?” he asked through gritted teeth. He braced himself, waiting for the brutal truth.

  “I would say that you both hurt each other in your own way, but if you go to her first and apologize, this entire problem would most likely disappear,” Stasia said. “She does love you, you know. And I know you love her too.”

  She made it sound so easy. “You believe our problem is that simple?”

  “I know it’s that simple. I’ve been in this sort of situation before. My husband and I fought before we were married. Gavin and I even split up for a short period of time. Both of us were too stubborn to realize how much we were hurting without each other. How stupid it was for us to stay apart when clearly we belonged together.”

  Vince frowned. He’d come to Stasia’s last evening and stayed the night. She hadn’t asked many questions and Gavin had asked none at all, which Vince appreciated. When he’d finally confessed to Stasia that he and Amber had a fight, she’d grown irritated with him but left him alone.

  His wife hadn’t left him alone, though. Amber had texted a few times, but he hadn’t answered, prompting Stasia to call her and let her know where her husband was.

  His sister had always been a meddler. She hadn’t changed a bit.

  “She needs to apologize as well,” Vince said, knowing he sounded like a hurt, whiny boy. “She’s the one who believes I would actually shove her in front of a moving car so I can try to kill her,” he said, his voice laced with disgust.

  “Give her a break. She’s had much emotional upheaval these last few months. First with trouble brewing between the two of you, the car accident, how quickly you two came back together and then her pregnancy. I’m sure her hormones are on an epic rollercoaster ride and she can hardly keep up.”

  Another thing his sister was so damn good at—making him feel like absolute shit. “So you’re saying I should be the one who apologizes first.”

  Stasia smiled. “Ah, there’s my smart brother. Yes, you should push aside your pride and your anger and tell that poor wife of yours you’re sorry. You’re going to have a child together, Vince. You’re in love with each other. Don’t let a foolish little fight ruin your marriage.”

  “The fight didn’t feel so foolish when it was happening,” he defended.

  “They never do, right? It’s when you can step away and really examine the situation that you realize just how silly you’ve been,” Stasia observed.

  Gah, her words of wisdom were going to drive him up the wall. He didn’t need the lecture. “You’ve turned into Mama.”

  Now it was Stasia’s turn to frown. “What?”

  “The way you’re talking to me. You sound just like Mama. Someday you’ll drive your children just as crazy as she drives us,” Vince said with a rusty laugh. It was the first time he’d felt something other than complete despair in the last twenty-four hours. But as soon as he started laughing, it dried up. His sense of humor had disappeared.

  “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,” Stasia muttered, getting up to pour herself another cup of coffee.

  Vince started laughing again, and he was thankful for it. He needed to get over feeling so awful. He needed to get back to his wife more than anything. “I would say both.”

  “You’re just trying to change the subject.” She returned to the table, sitting across from him so she could pin him with her intense stare. “Shed your pride and go apologize to your wife, Vince. She needs you. Now more than ever.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “Oh, please. I spoke to her last night. And this morning.” At Vince’s shocked look, Stasia continued. “Yes, she called this morning, checking up on you and making s
ure you were all right. I told her your stubbornness will always ensure you’ll be just fine. You’re too much of a pain in the ass to fall apart completely over something like this.”

  “Something like this?” He snorted. “You make it sound so minor.”

  “Because it is!” Stasia pounded her fist on the edge of the table, making it rattle and startling Vince. “I’m serious. She had dreams and they scared her. They made her doubt and question what was memory and what was her subconscious conjuring up phony images or whatever. You cannot hold this against her. It would be petty and mean if you did so. You know how confused she’s been.”

  He didn’t say a word. Everything Stasia said was true, but it was hard to face. More than anything, it was hard to admit.

  “Would you risk your relationship for something so minor? Risk the safety of your unborn child?”

  “What does our unborn child have to do with this?”

  “Oh my God, how can you be so dense? The baby has everything to do with this. If you split up with Amber, then your baby will come from a divorced family when he or she is born,” Stasia said with yet another roll of her eyes. “Do you really want to do that to your child?”

  “I have no plans on doing any such thing, despite what you think. I love Amber. We’re having trouble. Let us sort it out. We don’t need your meddling.” He didn’t care if he offended Stasia by calling her a meddler. He was tired of talking about his private problems.

  “Fine. If you don’t need my meddling, then call her,” Stasia suggested irritably.

  “What?”

  “Call her.” She grabbed Vince’s phone from where it rested on the kitchen table and slid it toward him. “Right now. Call her and say you want to come home. That the two of you need to talk.”

  He stared at the phone, fear and trepidation bouncing in his gut. He wanted to call her. He needed to call her. But what would he say? I’m sorry I’m a complete asshole? She might appreciate that.