His ribs felt like they were cracking, the pain inside him ballooning. He stared at her, this woman he’d loved for so long, and he could feel her slipping away, as if he were trying to hold dry sand in his fingers.
But what was the alternative? To let her go?
Everything inside him rebelled at the idea. She was his wife. Marrying her was all he’d ever wanted . . and now she wished to leave him.
How would he ever survive it?
Logic. He had to remain calm and use logic.
“You were prepared to marry a duke,” he said. “I find it hard to believe you would have expected compatibility and understanding from Lockwood.”
“Lockwood never lied to me. And I expected partnership and respect, which I believe he would have readily provided. But that is a moot point because you are not Lockwood.”
And thank Christ for that. “Meaning you hold me to a different standard.”
“I barely knew him. You, on the other hand, were once my closest friend. So yes, I expected more from you. But you’ve hurt me, Harrison. Again and again since you’ve returned.” She choked on the last few words, a reaction that felt like a punch to his solar plexus.
He imagined more sand slipping through his fingertips. “I never meant to cause you a moment’s pain. I just . . . God, Maddie. I only want to protect you.”
“I do not need protecting. I am not made of glass. I can learn that my in-laws want to hurt me and still thrash opponents on the tennis court. I can hear of your plans to take over your family’s company and still host a house party in your honor. You underestimate me at every turn.”
Was that truly what she believed? “I have never underestimated you. You’re the smartest and strongest woman I know.”
Her expression remained unchanged. “We want different things. Can’t you see? I want a true partner and you want to live the life you’ve always had, answerable to no one and completely independent. Those two things are incongruous, Harrison. We will only make each other miserable.”
“I only want you—and I will never be miserable in this marriage.”
She closed her eyes briefly, her breathing ragged. “Then I suppose it’s me. I am miserable in this marriage. And I deserve better.”
His mouth dried out, his ears ringing with finality, as the words sank in. She wants out.
Of course she did. She didn’t feel the depth of emotion for him that he felt for her. Twice he’d told her that he loved her and she hadn’t even hinted that she might love him in return. He was trying to hold on to something that didn’t exist, a figment of his imagination, a specter. A ghost of a relationship he’d constructed in his mind in the hopes that it would one day come true.
A pile of dreams built on wishes and faith, not strong enough to withstand the trials a real marriage would need to face. Without equal investment, without love on both sides, the foundation would crumble. Hell, it had already crumbled . . . he just hadn’t wanted to face it.
How could he let her go?
He had to find a way, because he couldn’t cause her any more pain. While he loved her desperately, completely, he knew it wasn’t enough. She’d accused him of never listening to her, never taking her wishes into account. So how could he refuse her this, when it was clear how unhappy he made her?
His pain meant nothing at the prospect of her happiness.
Drawing himself up, he cleared his throat. Twice. “I’ll have annulment paperwork drawn up.”
She studied him, her brows lowered as if she didn’t believe him. “Really?”
“Of course.” He thrust his hands in his trouser pockets. “No sense bothering with the trouble of a divorce. We can say we never lived together after the wedding. It’s mostly true, anyway.”
“Thank you.”
He dipped his chin, unable to say more. His chest felt like it had been doused in kerosene and set ablaze. Each inhale a struggle, each exhale pure agony.
Two tears slid down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away with her fingertips. “Someday, I hope we might be friends again. You and I were clearly much better friends than spouses.”
He didn’t respond—he couldn’t—so she walked to the door, where she paused and looked over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Harrison.”
And the door closed behind her with a snap, the final punctuation mark on their relationship. There was nothing more to be said.
He’d lost her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dash it. Maddie tossed her hat on the bench and resisted the urge to throw her racket down, as well.
She’d lost. It was the third round, and while the match had been close, she’d given up the lead in the second set and never regained it. Her dreams of winning at her first Nationals tournament were over.
Tears began sliding down her cheeks, the exhaustion and sadness of the past few days catching up with her. She’d lost the match, her husband and her best friend, all in a matter of three days. The weight of her failures sat heavily in her chest, a boulder-sized sense of defeat.
“Now, none of that,” Vallie said, coming in right behind her. “You had a great first tournament, Maddie. No one wins their first time out.”
Her coach had said this before, likely to manage Maddie’s expectations, but it did not ease the disappointment crashing over her in the moment.
Because this isn’t just about the tournament.
No, it was about her entire life falling apart.
She hadn’t told anyone about her argument with Harrison and the impending annulment, but it was obvious her husband was no longer at the tournament. Her parents were the only ones to inquire after Harrison’s whereabouts, so she’d made up a story about pressing business back in New York City. Preston had probably known the truth, his worried gaze tracking her wherever she went, but he said nothing.
Right now, Vallie was staring at her as if he didn’t know what to do, like she was this wild creature he’d never encountered before, and she knew she had to pull it together, even if just for a moment or two. “You’re right.” She forced a smile. “Thank you, Vallie. For everything. I certainly couldn’t have done this without you.”
His expression grew more confused. “This isn’t over. Your days of playing lawn tennis will continue. There are tournaments down South and in Cuba. We’ll play over the winter and prepare you to come back next year.”
She lifted a shoulder, unable to garner any enthusiasm for future matches at the moment. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” He thrust his hands in his pockets. “You are too talented, too smart to let a few setbacks stop you from what you really want. But I understand disappointment. I’ve had my share.” He huffed a laugh. “Believe me, I’ve had my share. So take the next week off. Don’t pick up a racket. Then we’ll start making plans. All right?”
Nodding, Maddie said, “All right.”
“Good. Your friend is outside and has asked to come in. Miss Young, I believe.”
Nellie was here? Maddie hadn’t seen her friend in the crowd during the match, but then she’d been a bit preoccupied while losing. “Send her in, if you please.”
“I will.” Vallie came over and embraced her. “Congratulations, Maddie. I know this doesn’t seem like a victory, but I promise you that reaching the third round in your first Nationals is a big achievement.”