There’s a pause, and I’m about to head down the hallway to check on her when her voice comes back. “I’m fine. Just knocked something over.”
I settle back down, relief washing over me at the same time it hits me.
She’s the perfect wife…
Beautiful? Check.
Loves Art? Check.
Funny? Check.
Easy to get along with? If you're not me… Check.
Charming? Check.
Knows me well? Check.
But there’s still one major problem: she hates me.
Do I have any other choice? I need this gallery. She loves my mom, so maybe she won’t do it for me, but she might for her, at least until I can buy the gallery. But what would she get out of it? Maybe money? I know the classes she attends are free, and her part-time job is minimum wage. I bet the tips from drunk women aren’t worth much.
The door clicks open, and Declan walks in, looking exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his tie loosened around his neck. His presence brings me back to reality, reminding me that I still have to ask the most important person.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
“It’s alright.” I get up from the sofa and clean the kitchen to keep busy, which is still messy from the toast. I smile. I haven’t had toast for dinner in years, not since I was a teenager. And fuck, it was good.
“Did you eat? Or did Karley leave this mess?” he asks, dropping his keys on the side table. “Actually, don’t answer that. I already know it was her.”
Declan is like me; he likes things neat and tidy, but it slipped this time because I was watching TV with Karley…
“Both.”
His eyes narrow, giving me that brotherly warning I’ve heard a thousand times. “Don’t touch my sister.”
But I need to ask him the craziest fucking thing. Maybe I should get him a drink before I bring it up. This would help bothme and Karley. He can trust me not to touch her. I’ve pushed her away once before. Her sad, broken eyes still haunt me, if I let myself think about it, but we could never work. She needed to build her own life, and she deserved that chance.
Besides, her brother, my best friend, had forbidden it. He was still hurting from being separated from her, the guilt, so not touching her was the least I could do for him, no matter how tempting she was. And still fucking is. Now she’s older, with more confidence, sass, and curves. Tonight alone, the room felt hotter, and I doubt she even noticed how hard it was for me, literally.
“Where’s Karley?” Declan asks.
“In bed. She went a while ago.”
He nods and heads to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to me. I take it, immediately drinking some to soothe my dry throat. I don’t know why I’m sweating… When he hears my dilemma, he’ll agree. At least, I hope so.
We settle on the sofas. He takes the one I was on, so I move to the other. I place my water on the coffee table and clasp my hands, keeping my gaze fixed on him. “I need to ask you something.”
He looks at me, still in his suit, and I understand why Karley said I looked uncomfortable earlier. He does now, too.
“What is it?”
“I had my meeting with Mr. Warne today—”
He nods. “That’s right. The Warne Gallery. How was it?”
“Yeah, the one I want for my mom.” I feel like I need to mention my mom. Declan knows how much the gallery and students matter to her, and it might soften what I’m about to ask.
His expression stays neutral as he tosses his jacket over the back of the chair. I take a deep breath to steady my anxiety of knowing what I’m about to ask.
