“You’re still married. She’s still your wife.” Oh god.
“We’ve been separated for two years.”
I shake my head. Bile is rising up my throat. I fight to swallow it back down, to kill the sick feeling in my stomach.
“And you never thought to tell me?”
“I didn’t know how to. I kept putting it off until it became impossible. I wanted to, Day.” He rests his hands on my arms, and I flinch, stepping back.
“Don’t you dare touch me.” I rub the places his hands were like I can wipe away the pain they’ve left behind. “Don’t you f**king dare stand there in front of me and try and justify this. Shit, Aaron. You’re married! Fucking married!”
What he said on the boat comes back to me and hits me with the force of a freight train. Everything… About sitting his wife down to work it out… Not going elsewhere… It was all a great big pile of shit.
“Didn’t she sit still long enough for you to work your shit out, huh? So much for making sure you’d work it out. Fuck!” I fist my hair and spin. “All that was a lie, wasn’t it? How much more has been a lie? How many more lines have you said that actually mean f**king nothing?”
“Our marriage was a sham, Dayton. Naomi cares for nothing but money and fame. She was an up-and-coming model struggling to break into the industry. I met her one night at college and could see her potential, so I gave her the in. I set her up with one of our agents, and she was…thankful.” He scrubs across his forehead.
“I bet she was.”
“We started seeing each other casually, and every time I went to break it off, my father’s assistant convinced me it was good for us to be together because of our profiles. Our ‘relationship’ was no secret, and she was always being hit with the fact that she’d only made it because of me.”
“She did!”
“We both knew that. I was a buffer for that. I claimed we met after she signed with our agency and that was that.”
“And you woke up one morning and decided to marry her, right? Because it was the ‘right’ thing to do?” I raise my eyebrows and walk across the room.
“It didn’t work out. After eight months, we separated. I’ve been fighting her for two years. She’s not entitled to half of everything I own, but she won’t take what I am offering. There’s a reason I don’t own the company on paper yet.”
Of course. There had to be a reason. And it had to be a wife, didn’t it? It couldn’t be a financial f**k-up or a contractual issue. It had to be a f**king wife.
“I can’t even look at you right now. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about her. How couldn’t you tell me, Aaron? Did it not ever cross your mind while you were watching me sleep or pouring me coffee to tell me? How about when you were kissing me or f**king me? Or when you were writing little f**king notes and hiding them?!”
He meets my eyes and I see the pain in them. Guilt and pain and heartbreak. Good. I hope his heart is being torn apart by razor-sharp claws. Mine certainly is.
“I was so scared to lose you, Day. So scared that if I told you, you’d get up and walk and that would be that.”
“So you thought you’d ignore it and she’d go away eventually? That I’d never find out? Even when you were begging me to move in with you—did you really think then that you’d never have to tell me?” I close my eyes and press my fingers into them. I’m not going to cry. Not over this.
“I hoped I could call my lawyer and give her what she wants from our marriage. My money. Then yes, I hoped she’d go away. I had no idea she was in France right now. If I did, I never would have brought us here.”
“What a nice surprise that was. No wonder you couldn’t tell me this morning.” My heart is racing. I don’t know if I’ve even comprehended this yet—that he has a wife. An ex-wife, but a wife. Until the papers are signed, there’s no ex about it.
I can’t comprehend anything past the sick knot in my stomach, the agony in my chest. The sting of betrayal that just keeps getting sharper.
“I’m so sorry, Dayton. If you had to find out, it never should have been like this. I’m so sorry.”
“Believe me, Aaron. You’re not half as sorry as I am.” I walk into the bathroom and splash cold water over my face. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes aren’t swollen and my cheeks are puffy. My lips aren’t chapped. No one would look at me and think I’d just had the shock of my f**king life.
So I can see the tears lurking in the corners of my eyes. They aren’t going anywhere.
Aaron walks in just as I pick up my makeup brush. “What are you doing?”
I meet his eyes in the mirror. I know the exact moment it happens. The moment I slink into Mia. “I have a contractual obligation to fill. I’ll be there with you tonight, but I’m leaving right after.”
He draws in a sharp breath.
“You’ll be refunded for the final two weeks that will be unfulfilled. Then you will wipe my agent’s number from your phone and not contact her again. I’ll be changing mine when I’m back in Seattle.”
“Day, please—”
“My other option is leaving right now and letting your wife know she’s got between us. I’ll leave late tonight and use the company plane. This way you can tell everyone I had a family emergency and had to return home immediately.” I pause to brush some lipstick on before turning to him. “We both have reputations to protect, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
He slams the bedroom door shut behind him as I walk into the kitchenand buttons his shirt in the middle of the main room. “Don’t look at me with Mia’s eyes.”
I take a deep breath and pour a glass of wine. My lipstick leaves a red lip print on the rim of the glass, and I slowly turn to him. When I do, his jacket is on and his tie around his neck.
“I’m doing my job, Aaron. You’re my client. That’s it.”
***
I’ve been Mia thousands of times in my life. I’ve buried the real me beneath layers of masquerade and no one has been any wiser. I’ve hidden every part of me you can imagine, including emotions.
Mia feels what she has to. She smiles at all the right times, laughs at all the right lines, and feigns annoyance at all the right moments.
My life is a charade. I have control but I never really get to pull the strings. I’m always acting under someone else’s orders. I’m always fulfilling someone else’s wishes. Living someone else’s dreams.