by Noelle Adams
“It doesn’t matter whether you understand or not. You shouldn’t be trying to renege on our deal.”
“I’m not trying to renege.” Her voice cracked because she was getting really upset now. She didn’t understand why he was acting this way. “I’m not. I was just offering another possibility—one I thought would work well for both of us.”
“Why would it work well for me?”
“Because you could move on with your life. Isn’t that what you want?” Her voice trembled slightly on the last question. Everything was so strange and confused and not at all like it should be.
Mitchell wasn’t acting at all like he would normally act.
“My life if fine right now. I thought yours was too. If there’s something about our marriage that isn’t working for you, just tell me what it is, and we can make adjustments if necessary.”
Her eyes widened at his impersonal tone. She couldn’t believe this was the man she’d just made love to just the previous day. “I already told you. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get intimate like…like we were. I told you that from the beginning, but you keep…” She trailed off, since it was hardly his fault they’d had sex the times they had. Both of them were responsible for what had happened.
“I won’t come on to you again. Is there something else you’re not happy with?”
“I don’t understand. Are you saying you want to stay married to me? Are you…are you happy with the way things are?”
“I think I’ve made it clear that I am.”
He had. In some ways, he’d been like a different person recently—at least a person she’d never seen in him before. “I think we need to be careful, though,” she said. “You’ve been so sweet to me this week. I really appreciate how you’ve been there for me. But I don’t think we can assume it means more than it does. It’s just because you’re a nice guy and I’ve been really needy. Despite how you act sometimes, you really have a good heart. It’s not necessarily—“
He made a strange rough sound in his throat. “What the hell are you talking about? You’ve got me totally wrong. I’m not a nice guy. I don’t have a good heart. And not once in my life have I ever been sweet. None of that has any bearing on this conversation right now.”
She hugged her arms to her chest, hating the sound of his clipped tone. He wasn’t like this. Not really. Not at heart. She had no idea why he was acting like this now.
Unless she’d hurt his feelings somehow.
He’d told her that he got mean when he felt rejected.
She hated the thought of it, and scrambled to fix whatever she might have done. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you or act like I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done. You know I really like you. I think you’re great. And obviously—“
“You’ve already told me all this.”
“But I don’t want you to think I think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“You just don’t want to be married to me any longer than you have to.”
The way he said it sounded horrible—sounded like the worst kind of insult she could have given him—when that was the last thing in the world she would have wanted. “I’m so sorry,” she said, feeling her eyes start to burn as the emotion became too powerful. “I didn’t mean any of it to come across like this. I don’t know what to say.”
“I think you’ve already said it.” His eyes were focused on her, but she wasn’t sure they were even seeing her even more. “You like me. You think I’m great. But you’re ready for this marriage to be over—because I’m not the person you really want.”
“That’s not—“ she choked, since all of this was so incredibly wrong.
When she couldn’t continue, he asked, “That’s not what you meant?” For just a moment, he sounded almost human again.
She was trying so hard to be honest—as honest as she possibly could—but everything she said seemed to be wrong. “It’s not that I don’t want you—in a lot of ways. It’s just that we’re so different. We want and believe in entirely different things. We’re looking for different things out of life. So you can’t…you can’t be the person…the person…”
“The person you really want.”
She nodded, tears streaming from her eyes. Because it was true. It was absolutely true. And not admitting it wouldn’t be fair to either one of them.
She wanted Mitchell. She loved him. She wished she could spend her life with him. But he would never be a man who could give that to her.
He didn’t believe in marriage. He didn’t have any interest in starting a family. He brushed aside history and tradition and ceremony like they were meaningless trivialities.
Even if he might want to be with her now, they could never be happy together because they would always, forever want different things.
Mitchell wanted what was easy, what felt good at any given moment.
And Deanna had always, only wanted what would truly last.
“Do you understand now?” she gasped, trying to control her tears. “Don’t you think it’s better to just end the marriage as soon as possible so we don’t end up hurting each other even more? I really think that’s the wisest thing.”
“I don’t care what you think is wise,” Mitchell said curtly. “Our contract says we stay married for a full six months, and I’m going to hold you to that.”
She gasped again, this time in sharp pain, like someone had slashed her with a knife.
When her eyes cleared, she saw that his expression was hard, merciless.
Maybe he was hurt, maybe he felt rejected, but the man she really wanted would never use marriage vows like a weapon—any more than he’d spontaneously come up with the idea of marriage as an easy way of making a business deal.
He didn’t see marriage the way she did, and he clearly never would.
There was no way she could speak through the grief and pain that was overwhelming her, so she just nodded—to show she understood what he said and wasn’t going to object—and then took a step back and closed her bedroom door on his face.
Just over two months now. She could make it through.
Her heart had already been broken, so at least there wasn’t anything left to break.
Twelve
Mitchell stood in front of Deanna’s closed door and heard her crying on the other side.
She was trying to stifle it—that much was obvious—but she wasn’t successful.
It was brutal—the twisting of his heart, over and over again. First because she wanted to end the marriage. Then because she was so open and blunt about not wanting the man he really was. And now because he’d obviously hurt her in his natural instinct to be mean as a way of holding himself together and protecting the last shreds of his heart.
He could stand the battering of his own self, but he simply couldn’t stand for it to happen to Deanna. So, instead of turning around and going to his room to take a shower and pull himself together, he pounded on the door again.
“Mitchell, please just go away!” she wailed, choking on more sobs.
He swung the door open and saw that she’d collapsed in a heap on her bed. He strode over, pulling her up and into his arms. She kept sobbing against him, even though he was soaked with sweat and had just treated her so cruelly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Deanna, please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”
“I’m…sorry too.” She clung to him, and he held her as tightly as he could, as if all of the aching need in his soul was channeled into this one grip. “I’m so sorry, Mitchell. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I hurt you too. I never wanted to do that.”
She cried for a little longer, but then she finally started to calm down. That meant he should release his hold on her, but he simply didn’t want to.
This might be the only way he was allowed to touch Deanna now, and he didn’t want it to end.
She sniffed and cleared her throat and finally pulled away. He had no choice but to release her.
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“You’re all sweaty,” she said with a teasing little smile that unclenched his heart.
“I just ran about seven miles.”
“It’s stupid to run that far in the middle of the night.”
“I sometimes do stupid things.”
“So do I.”
They gave each other sheepish looks until Deanna’s expression relaxed into a full smile. “We’ve made a real mess of this whole thing.”
He sighed. “I know. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well…” She took a deep breath, obviously thinking hard. “Well, we’ve got two more months, so maybe we should just try to be…be friends. I don’t want to lose you, Mitchell, and I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“Me either,” he admitted, although his chest was still twisting because she obviously didn’t want from him what he wanted from her.
But still…this would be better than nothing. And there was no reason to assume her feelings for him would never change.
They had attraction and understanding and shared humor and camaraderie.
Maybe, if she grew to trust him, they could have love too.
He wanted it now. All of it—all of her—right now. He felt like he’d been waiting forever for her, and he didn’t want to wait anymore.
But Brie was right. Deanna cared about him a lot, yet she believed he would never do the hard thing.
She was wrong, though. Maybe he’d been like that before, but that was because there hadn’t been anything he wanted enough to work for.
He wanted Deanna that much. He would do anything he needed to do—work as hard as he had to work, wait as long as he had to wait—in order to get her at last.
“Mitchell?” Deanna asked softly, after he was silent for too long. “Is that…is that all right?”
He nodded, reaching over and putting a hand over hers, resisting the urge to touch her any more than that. “Yes. It’s all right.”
***
“So you’re not going back to London?” Deanna asked her sister, as they were sitting in her grandmother’s parlour a couple of weeks later.
“No.” Rose’s flashed a little dimple over her sip of iced tea, a sure sign that she was feeling self-conscious about something. “Jill, Julie, and Mr. Harwood are coming back to Savannah next week anyway, so he said there wasn’t any need for me to fly all the way back. He said he could manage.”
Kelly had been puttering with an old mantle clock, which hadn’t worked in years. She was determined to one day get it fixed, and kept returning to work on the mechanism when she had nothing else to do. “How long have you been working for the Harwoods, Rose?”
Rose looked surprised. “For two years. You know that.”
“And he still expects you to call him Mr. Harwood?”
“He’s never said anything, but it would hardly be appropriate for me to go around calling him James. He’s my employer. Not my friend.”
“Still, I’d think you’d have gotten to know each other well enough. What does he call you?”
“Rose.” She stared down at her glass. “Rosie, actually.”
Deanna almost choked on her sip. “Rosie? No one calls you Rosie. How does he get away with that?”
With a slight flush of her cheeks, Rose admitted, “Well, honestly, I think he just got my name wrong initially, and then he’d called me Rosie for so long, he couldn’t change it to my real name.”
“Maybe you don’t want him to change it,” Kelly teased, giving her sister a wry look over her glasses.
Rose narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my boss. Besides, he’s engaged anyway.”
“What?” Deanna straightened up. James Harwood’s wife had died two and a half years ago, shortly before he hired Rose. “He’s engaged? When did this happen?”
“A few weeks ago. But the wedding is not until next year.”
“Is he still going to want a nanny for Jill and Julie after he gets married?”
Rose gave a little shrug. “He said he would. I guess it depends on what his fiancée thinks, but I’ve met her and I don’t really think…” She cleared her throat delicately. “She’s not exactly the maternal kind. I think she’ll want to keep a nanny, if only so she doesn’t have to bother with the girls.”
They were all silent as they took in this piece of information. Deanna had met Rose’s employer a few times, and he seemed like a decent guy—kind of absent-minded and sometimes grumpy. She thought he could probably do better than marrying a woman who wasn’t excited about having two step-daughters. That might make it difficult for Rose.
Their grandmother had been napping in her chair, which she often did in the afternoons after her injury. But she must not have really been asleep because she opened one eye and said, “He will make an appropriate husband.”
The three sisters looked at each other a little warily, but none of them asked for further explanation. Maybe she meant he’d make an appropriate husband for his fiancée, but Deanna rather doubted it. She started to worry for Rose.
“Speaking of husbands,” her grandmother continued, “I haven’t seen yours lately, Deanna. Where is he?”
“Right now? I guess he’s at work. Where else would he be?”
“Why has he not paid me a visit since I’ve gotten out of the hospital?”
“He’s been busy, but I’m sure he will if you’d like him to. He can’t come over here though. He’s allergic to the Pride.”
“I would like to thank him for saving our treasures.” Her grandmother glanced over to the rack of old dresses, which had been carefully washed and repaired and were in even better condition than they’d been before.
“I’ll tell him you said thanks.”
“What’s going on with him, anyway?” Rose asked.
Deanna swallowed. She’d managed to avoid any talk about Mitchell for the last couple of weeks, but it was inevitable eventually. “What do you mean? He’s fine.”
“I mean, what’s going on between you? At the hospital, it looked like you were…more than a business arrangement. But now you’re hanging out here half the time.”
With a shrug, Deanna said, “We get along pretty well. But it’s just a six month thing, you know.”
“Why?” That was Kelly, who was leaning forward now, the clock momentarily forgotten. “He’s crazy about you. Anyone can see.”
“No, he isn’t. He likes me well enough, but he’s not the kind of guy who’s in for the long haul. You know what he’s like as much as I do.”
“Maybe he can change. It does happen sometimes, you know.”
Deanna shook her head. “We’ve gotten it worked out. When the six months are over, we’ll get the divorce—just like we always planned.”
It still hurt to say it out loud, but she kept telling herself the truth over and over again, so she wouldn’t forget it. She and Mitchell had been getting along pretty well for the last couple of weeks, since the blow-up that night. They had dinner together fairly often. They sometimes had breakfast together and sometimes they worked out together and sometimes they hung out to watch TV. It wasn’t exactly the same as it had been before—both of them were too careful about keeping an appropriate distance. But it was certainly better than the brewing angst and tension that would invariably explode into pain.
They were both mature adults. They could work out a reasonable agreement without either of them falling apart.
It was the best Deanna could hope for in this situation.
“That was always the plan,” her grandmother said in a somber voice, which was vaguely disturbing since her eyes had closed again.
All three of them jumped slightly.
“What do you mean?” Deanna asked, feeling a shiver of anxiety slice down her spine.
“That was the plan. End the marriage at six months. Then, after the divorce, you can make yourself available to Morris Alfred Theobald III. He was very disappointed when you got married.”
Deanna’s stomach churned. “What? I�
�m not going to make myself available to that man. I don’t even like him.”
“You will learn to like him,” her grandmother said, her eyes still closed. “He will make a good husband. You will get divorced, and we will have him over for dinner.”
She said the words as if they were the pronouncement of fate, as if they were truth from on high.
Kelly and Rose were silent and tense, and Deanna’s spine was very straight as she heard herself saying, “No. I’m going to have dinner with him. I’m never going to marry him or even date him. I don’t want Morris Alfred Theobald III. I’m not even sure I even want to get divorced at all.”
She couldn’t believe she was saying no to her grandmother like this. She’d never done anything like it in the past. Rose and Kelly were clearly shocked, but Rose got over it first.
She leaned forward and asked, “Really, Deanna? I’m so happy to hear that because I think you two are really good together. I think you should keep him.”
“I think you should keep him too,” Kelly added.
Deanna’s mind was still reeling from what she’d just said, and she almost choked on hearing her sisters’ words. “I can’t keep him! I don’t know what I was even talking about just now. The six months is in the contract and everything. Plus, we’re totally different. He doesn’t believe in marriage. He only commits to temporary relationships. He thinks all our treasures are clutter, and he thinks the Pride is creepy!”
“The Pride is a little creepy,” Kelly whispered, eyeing their grandmother, who still had her eyes closed and a frown on her face.
“He said he doesn’t believe in marriage because he’d never been there himself,” Rose said. “I really think it’s just because he’d never known what he was missing. And he wasn’t really being honest when he said he only knows how to commit to temporary relationships. He’s committed to his mother, isn’t he? Look at the lengths he’s gone to make her happy. That is commitment. He can commit.”
Deanna stared at Rose and then at Kelly and then her grandmother.
“Think about it,” Rose added.
“That’s what I was trying to say all along,” Kelly said. “Not that he’s changed, necessarily. Just that he wasn’t who everyone always thought he was. Even who he thought he was.”
