Marry Me for Money (38 page)

I kissed his forearm and turned to align my face with his. We were a breath apart, and I slowly took in his every feature. With the tip of my finger, I touched his perfectly shaped brow and his unbelievably and unfair long dark lashes that hit just above his cheekbones. I dragged my finger from the bridge of his nose to his lips, which were parted slightly in his deep state of sleep. I traced his plump bottom lip and inched closer to kiss him, to press my lips against his—because this time, I could.

He was truly the most beautiful man I’d ever laid my eyes on. And not even his hotness, his crazy good looks could measure up to how truly beautiful he was inside, how big his heart was, how he cared for his family, and more, how he cared for me. I loved him. And finally, he was mine for keeps.

The red digits from Kent’s alarm clock on his side table flashed in my eyes. Painfully, I moved his arm to extract myself from his embrace, so I could get ready for work. I rewarded myself one last glance as I gazed at the handsome man lying on his stomach next to me and sighed. With my finger, I traced the defined lines from the muscles on his back. He didn’t flinch and was still sleeping soundly.

I stopped to think about what had gotten us here today. I wondered if I’d avoided the inevitable by trying to deny my feelings for so long and if we would have made it here anyway. I never believed in fate. I’d always been the one who believed that everyone could shape their own future by the actions they took. But now, lying next to Kent, I believed.

I kissed his shoulder before jumping into the shower to get ready for work.

Work was crazy busy. It was nonstop meeting after meeting in the boardroom about current clients. My butt was either stuck in a boardroom chair or stuck in my desk chair with my head in front of a computer, analyzing company financials. Preoccupied with work, I only had time to eat lunch at my desk. Because of the hectic day I was having, I would have thought the workday would fly by, but five o’clock could not get here fast enough, especially when I was anxious to see Kent.

After work, I shut down my computer, said good-bye to my bankers, and headed out the door. I was smiling, almost skipping back to Kent’s condo when I stopped dead in my tracks.

And then I saw them.

Kent was with some girl.

Her arms were wrapped around him.

They stood right in front of the doors to Trump Tower, right there for everyone to see.

Right there for me to see.

I felt sick as I took in the scene.

She had her arms wrapped around his neck, and he was laughing at something she’d said.

Heat flashed to my face, and I could feel my eyes getting warmer and warmer by the second. I wanted to scream and cry, hit him or her, hit something. I gritted my teeth. I didn’t understand what was happening.
Did last night happen?

Something inside of me believed that he’d wanted me to see this. I couldn’t control the slight tremor in my hands. I didn’t know what was going on, but all I knew was I needed to leave. And I needed to leave now.

I was a few feet away from him when he saw me. I made my way over to pass him. I didn’t even want to acknowledge or talk to him because I knew I would cry.

“Hey, Beth.” The remnants of his smile were still on his face as he stood there, entangled in the girl’s arms.

At the look I gave him, his demeanor changed, and he stepped away from the woman. I stormed past him through the revolving door and felt him following behind me. A couple came out of the elevators, and I immediately stepped in and pressed the button to shut the door in his face. I pressed 55 and tapped my foot against the tiled floor, not reaching my destination fast enough. As I stepped out of the elevator, I rushed toward the condo and keyed in the door. The elevator pinged behind me, and I heard him call out my name, but I didn’t turn around. I let the door shut behind me, but he caught it.

“Beth, wait. Are you upset?”

I wheeled around to face him, my hands fisted by my sides.

The fact that he’d asked me that question made me livid. “Upset? Why would I be upset?” I said in the softest voice possible.

He studied my face for a second before running both of his hands through his hair. “About last night. I know we haven’t talked about what happened, but…I just don’t want anything to change between us.”

At this, I lunged toward him. All restraint was gone at this point. “You bastard. You don’t want anything to change? Well, you should have thought of that before you touched me last night!” I yelled, pushing both fists at his chest.

He tried to block my hits as I kept pushing him. I was yelling and spitting, and my face was red from frustration. I knew I was not a pretty sight.

“I’m not one of your whores. Why are you treating me this way? How could you do this? How could you do this to me? To me!” I said, putting both hands on my chest.

I reeled away as the fight left me. Tears flowed down my face, and I looked directly in his eyes. “I’m not one of your girls.” I shook my head. “Just because they can disconnect their emotions from any physical contact doesn’t mean that I’m built that way because I’m not.”

I wiped away the tears falling on my cheek with my sleeve. “After knowing me like you do, how could you not know that once you crossed that line, I’d think you’d want something more?” I asked, my voice breaking.

I tried to rein in my emotions, but the more I tried, the more tears fell. “I can’t believe you. I…I trusted you,” I said, stifling a cry. “I can’t do this anymore. It’s taking too much out of me. I’m done,” I said, backing away from him.

“Beth…I”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. Your actions speak louder than anything you have to say.” I turned and stomped toward the guest bedroom. I scanned the room that I’d spent the last week in. I couldn’t believe it was ending like this. My belongings were scattered everywhere. I would just send Caroline to pick up the rest of my stuff.

My hands shook as I scooped up my necessities, toiletries and a couple of suits. I pulled out my suitcase from the closet and felt Kent’s presence behind me, standing by the door, but I didn’t look at him.

“You’re leaving?” he whispered.

I didn’t turn around. I kept myself busy as I continued to pack my stuff, trying to keep my emotions under control, trying not to fall apart in front of the only person in Chicago I thought I could count on. I was tired, but most of all, I didn’t want to cry anymore. I just wanted to leave.

“What about the deal? You can’t leave,” he said softly.

“You have access to your trust fund money. I’ve held up my part of the deal.” I pulled the zipper to close my suitcase, and I plowed my way toward the bedroom door.

He blocked my path, ran both hands through his hair, and tugged it in frustration. “I’m confused. These past few months have confused me, and I don’t know which way is up anymore. I just don’t know what I want. All I know is that I don’t want you to leave. Don’t go.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting the tears. “I’m sorry you don’t know what you want. Sometimes, we don’t get what we want. Welcome to the real world, Kent.”

I made my way around him, stalked toward the kitchen, and grabbed my laptop bag.

He followed and paced back and forth, with both hands running through his hair. I glanced at him as his eyes went wild. “You can’t go,” he said.

I ignored him and stepped my way to the foyer where he followed. I grabbed my jacket from the closet, and he stopped directly in my path, blocking the door to the outside.

“Listen, okay? Just listen,” he said with a desperation in his tone. Kent looked down to the floor as if he was thinking of what to say. He paused and stared directly at me. His eyes changed from scared to now determined. It was as if he had stopped breathing. “Beth, please just listen. I don’t know what to say. Just don’t. Please listen. Just don’t do it. Don’t go.”

“Move,” I said, firmly meeting his eyes.

His face was resolute, but his eyes gave him away. He was shattered. “I don’t beg, okay? I’ve always gotten whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I manipulate everyone I know—my parents and my friends. I don’t want to do it, but if you walk out that door, I won’t give you a dime. You won’t get your money.”

I took a sharp intake of breath. At that moment, I was at a loss for words. I wanted to cry again, but I was so mad that I couldn’t. I knew the money could lead to my freedom from my past, the debt, and my mom. But it wasn’t about the money. I wasn’t mad that he wasn’t giving it to me. I was mad at the fact that he was using it as leverage. Kent used money to manipulate people. He had even said so. The difference was that he was using it on me to get what he wanted. He was using it as leverage for me to stay.

I didn’t even waste the effort to speak. I wheeled around and stepped out the door.

I went straight back to my apartment after I’d left Kent’s place. I’d known I would end up here after the divorce, but I couldn’t have predicted that it would hurt this much when I did.

I was tired of crying, especially when I’d spent all my life living by the book and doing everything right. I refused to cry over things I couldn’t control.

So, I didn’t.

I turned off my phone and tried to sleep.

When sleep still hadn’t come as dawn approached, I did what I did best. I got up for work and pretended that nothing had ever happened.

Twenty-nine missed calls greeted me in the morning. They were all from Kent. I pressed delete through all the messages, not listening to one word. I was tired of being used. There was nothing he could say to make things right. To me, actions always spoke louder than words. I’d learned that from past experiences. I’d learned that from my mom.

I busied myself at work, facing my computer. I didn’t want to talk to anyone nor did I want anyone asking me about married life again.

On my way home, I saw Kent standing outside my building. I stopped and took the deepest breath of my life and stepped forward. His hair was in disarray, and his clothes were disheveled. It was one of the few times I’d seen Kent not put together. When he saw me, his eyes lit up. I glared at him and clenched my jaw.

“What do you want, Kent?” I said, as I tried to steady my voice.

I tried to walk past him, but he blocked my path on the sidewalk.

“I’ve been trying to call you.” Bloodshot eyes bore into mine. It didn’t look like he had slept. “I want you to come home.”

I crossed my arms in front of me. “That’s not my home. That was the set of some theatrical play—a play that turned awfully bad. Please move.”

“I’ve paid off all your debt,” he said softly, blocking my way. He stood taller, gauging my reaction.

I didn’t know what to say, but I was definitely not going to thank him. His eyes fell, and his shoulders slumped at the look I gave him.

“Good. Thanks for consolidating my debt. Now, I can mail one check instead of twenty.”

When I moved around him, he grabbed my wrist.

“Please,” he whispered, his eyes pleading. “I-I can’t take this.”

I hated how I softened at his touch. I hated how I missed his scent, his presence, his very being.

I looked into his chestnut eyes, and all my feelings for him rushed to the surface. I thought I was about to lose it. I turned around and bolted in the other direction, hearing him call my name. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to distance myself away from him, from the sight of him, from his very presence. I curved around a corner and realized I’d walked into a dead-end alley. I pivoted around, and Kent was right there, facing me.

“What do you want?” I yelled, tears falling from my face. “You think you own me? You think that just because you paid off my debt, I owe you something? I’m tired of people thinking that they own me.” I staggered back. “Just because Jamie gave me life, she thinks she can use me and destroy me. Just because you paid off my debt, I now owe you something? I’ve never done anything to you. I’ve never hurt people deliberately, so why does this keep happening to me? Why do people keep hurting me when I’ve never done anything wrong?” I couldn’t see. I was crying so much that his figure was a blur.

Kent reached for me, but I stepped back. I couldn’t risk him touching me. My resolve would weaken, I know.