Tess clapped her hands. “We don’t have time for brainstorming now. Hunter, your speech. And by the way, your pretty wife could totally join the raffle. Josie, what do you say?”
“For a good cause? Of course.”
“No,” I said firmly. The whole group turned to look at me. The corners of Josie’s mouth twitched. Ryker and Cole shook their heads. Tess and Skye were radiant.
“We need to make the rounds for this ball,” I said. “I want to introduce you to everyone as my wife. You won’t have much time for dancing.”
No one seemed to buy my explanation, not even Josie—the corners of her lips twitched again. I was a territorial bastard. I just didn’t want to share her.
“I’m going to the restroom to freshen up before you start introducing me, husband.”
The second she was out of earshot, my cousins pounced on me.
“So, is it just me, or did he sound jealous?” Cole asked.
“Not just you,” Skye confirmed. She was grinning from ear to ear. If possible, Tess’s grin was even bigger.
“Did you tell her how you feel?” Tess asked.
“Not... explicitly,” I admitted.
“What are you waiting for?” Skye asked.
“What if it ruins everything? What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
Tess tilted her head. “You always take chances, Hunter. You’re going to hold back now?”
“What exactly do you feel?” Skye went on.
Cole cleared his throat. “Let’s not corner him before the speech.”
Ryker sighed dramatically. “Yup, let the man focus on his speech. He’s a goner for Josie anyway. Even I’m not that clueless.”
I didn’t get another word in, because the evening’s moderator called me into the main room. Showtime.
Getting up on a stage and giving a speech wasn’t one of my favorite activities, but over time, I’d learned to view this as an opportunity rather than something to dread. The better my speech, the easier donors would part with their money.
At the end of it, I pulled out a check, reading the sum out loud before handing it over to our treasurer. I always set the bar high, donating six figures. People tended to follow suit.
Josie watched me from right next to the stage for the entire duration of my speech. Tess and Skye were right, of course: I had to tell her, but having the guts to do it was another story.
Josie was the star of the night, and not because she was my wife. Well, partly because of that. Several regulars weren’t shy about expressing their surprise that I’d married.
But Josie stole the show with her clever input and her charm. I was proud to be her husband.
“You know, everyone here is a potential client for you,” I whispered to her while we danced.
“I’m not here for that tonight. I’m here for you.”
She threaded her fingers through my hair, looking at me with happy eyes, as if sensing that I needed all that warmth and sweetness she had to give.
No one had ever cared about what I needed, looked at me as if I was her sole focus, as if nothing else mattered—not the opportunities to strike business contacts or to advance her own career. I almost didn’t dare think it, let alone hope it, but... was it possible I was so important to her?
***
When we arrived home, I was restless. I couldn’t avoid my own thoughts, sinking into that melancholy I did every year on the anniversary.
“Coming to bed?” Josie asked.
“You go ahead. I want to finalize a few emails.”
I was beating around the bush. I doubted I could concentrate on emails. I just didn’t think I could lie next to her and not lay every thought bare. I didn’t want her to see this weak side of me.
“Hunter, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“Go to sleep, babe. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She fidgeted in her spot, frowning before finally turning away.
I simply couldn’t sit, or even stand still. Forget emails. I headed to the guest room where I kept the treadmill. I quickly discarded my tux, changing into the running gear I kept there, then hopped on the machine.
Our bedroom was on the other side of the house, so it wouldn’t wake up Josie.
I’d intended to only run fast enough to be able to block my thoughts. That usually happened at level ten. It wasn’t enough this time. Memories poked around in my brain, the deep sadness twisting in my chest. I kept increasing the speed and the inclination of the slope, until I had to concentrate on the treadmill only, or I risked falling off.
One foot in front of the other. One in front of the other. Faster. Faster. That was it. The effort drowned out the memories, how much I missed him. How much I hoped he looked down and was proud of everything I’d achieved, of restoring the dream he’d worked on for his entire life.
My lungs were protesting. My chest ached with every breath. The deeper I tried to breathe in, the worse the ache became.
The muscles in my legs started burning. My buttocks were in pain. I glanced at the screen. I’d run for over an hour at this speed? Fuck. I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.
I pressed the End Program button, and the speed decreased gradually. The slower I went, the weaker my thighs felt. I didn’t think I was able to walk right now either.
I nearly twisted an ankle stepping off the treadmill. My legs almost couldn’t sustain my weight. Jesus, what I had been thinking? My throat was as dry as sandpaper. I was completely dehydrated.
A soft whoosh made me look toward the door. Josie was standing there in a white nightgown that barely covered anything, holding a bottle of water.
“Babe... did I make too much noise? I’m sorry.”
“No, I just woke up and you weren’t next to me, and I went looking for you.”
“How long have you been standing here?”
“Forty minutes, give or take. Noticed you didn’t have a bottle of water and brought you one.” She handed me the one she was holding.
“Thanks.”
I guzzled down half the bottle in a few swigs, then tried to gather my thoughts as I put the lid back on.
“I’m worried you’ll dehydrate, or that you’ll get sick. You were going so fast... Hunter, what’s wrong?” she asked softly.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Don’t shut me out.”
“I said, I’m fine.”
“Right, that’s why you ran yourself into the ground. Forgive me for intruding in... whatever this is and worrying about you. Clearly, you have it under control and don’t need me.”
She spun around, leaving the room. I clasped the bottle so tightly that the plastic gave in.
Jesus, I was an idiot. She’d stood here for forty minutes, ready to hand me water, to listen to me, to just watch me in case I needed something—because she was worried for me. And I shut her out.
Josie deserved better than this, and I needed to find it in myself to give her exactly what she deserved. I just didn’t know how. I’d never been one to pour my heart out to anyone, or to voice my inner turmoil.
Ever since I was fifteen, I’d sucked it up and done what had to be done, rarely stopping for any introspection—the exception being Dad’s birthday—and never talking about it. It wasn’t that I wanted to forget about everything—I didn’t. I cherished Dad’s memory, and I understood that life sometimes handed you curveballs—I just chose not to linger too much on them.