Page 154 of The Pact
I don’t lift my head. “Are you in love with me?”
The silence that follows is telling. I don’t feel her get into the bed, so I turn my head to look at her. She’s standing on the side of the bed with the comforter in her hand, like she’s pulling it back to get in.
“What?” she asks, barely above a whisper.
“It’s a simple question, Presley. Are you in love with me?”
She fumbles with her words, and I can see the flush creeping up her neck like it does when she’s nervous or turned on. Definitely not turned on right now.
“Saint … of course I love you. You’re my best friend, the most important person in my life.”
“That’s not what I asked,” I interrupt, my voice flat. I stand up and walk to her until I’m standing right in front of her. I know I’m looming over her, but I can’t help it. “I didn’t ask if youloveme like a friend or teammate. I asked if you arein lovewith me.”
“Where is this coming from?” she stammers, sitting down on the bed.
“Because I have always been in love with you,” I say, the words raw. “From the moment we made the pact, I thought maybe if I waited, and you chased your dreams, that maybe you could feel the same about me. And I know this wasn’t the best way to enact the pact, and for all I know, you’ll be out of here once you get that last check from your trust fund. But I’m done pretending I’m not in love with you. I heard you with Rhyan. I heard you tell her that I’m your best friend.”
“I was trying to explain it in a way she could understand, Saint. I don’t want to confuse her, especially about her mother.”
“It wasn’t just about Savannah,” I snap. “It was the way you maneuvered around the questions about us. About a family. Babies.”
Presley looks like I just slapped her. “Babies? Saint, we have never talked about that. We did this … we started this as a way for you and the kids to stay together, to provide stability.”
“And don’t forget the money for your foundation,” I mention.
She looks like I just slapped her, but I continue anyway.
“I guess I never gave it much thought before either,” I say, pacing the space between the window and the bed. “But watching you with them, I realize I do want to grow our family. I want a wife who looks at me and doesn’t just see a best friend. I want someone who wants a future with me that’s not defined by a contract or agreement … or a pact we made in college.”
“Saint, you’re catching me off guard,” she says, voice shaking. “This is a lot to process. I … I need to think.”
“Think?” I laugh humorlessly. “What is there to think about? You either feel it or you don’t. You either want me, want this … all of this … or you’re just playing the part we agreed on.”
“I’m not playing a part!” she cried. “I care about you more than anyone! But having children of our own? That changes everything.”
I stop pacing and look at her. Really look at her. She looks scared, and that’s pretty much all the answer I need.
“You’re right,” I say quietly. “It was never part of the plan. But our plan isn’t enough for me anymore. It’s not fair to either of us to stay married if you don’t love me the way I love you or want the same things I want. And I won’t spend the rest of my life like this while we sleep in the same bed and pretend I’m not starving for something real. Something more.”
“Okay, just wait a second,” she says, reaching for my arm. “Let me just think about all this.Please. You’re throwing a lot at me after a very long day.”
“Take your time,” I say, gently pulling my arm away. “Take all the time you need. We have a year marker on this agreement, remember? So you can get your money. And if we get to that year and you realize you can’t move forward with me as a husband, then I’ll give you a divorce. I won’t fight you. And I won’t beg you to want me the way I want you.”
Presley’s face pales. “Divorce? Saint, what would we even tell the kids? I’m just going to, what? Go back to my apartment and not be here? After everything they’ve been through? You’d just let me walk out of their lives?”
“I won’t let you disappear, but I guess this is also something we should have talked about before we followed through with getting married,” I say.
My heart feels like it’s being squeezed in a fist. “You’ll stay in their lives. But I can’t do this. I can’t live in a house with a woman I’m in love with while you treat me like a … roommate with benefits.”
I walk to my side of the bed and grab my pillow.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I can’t sleep in the same bed with you right now, Presley,” I say. “Every time I look at you, I’m going to be wondering if you’re searching for a feeling that isn’t there.”
“Saint, don’t do this. If the kids see you in another room tomorrow morning, they’ll be confused.”
“You sleep in here,” I say, walking to the door. “I’ll go stay in the guest room down the hall.”
