“Some people can only appreciate the good in their lives when they’ve had a taste of what it’s like to suffer,” Dane pointed out. “You had a shit start to life, so when Melinda and Wyatt entered it, you recognized how fortunate you were to have them and the safety that they gave you. Heather’s had it good since day one, but she isn’t a person who’s learned to appreciate it. She doesn’t see what she has; she only sees what she doesn’t have.”
“I almost feel sorry for her. I’d hate to never be able to feel content.” I cocked my head. “Is it hard to live a life where you never feel fully satisfied? You’re nothing like Heather, I know. But you have that drive to keep seeking more and better. You keep moving the marker. You never seem to feel that you have enough.”
“You think I’m unhappy?”
“Not unhappy. Just … not completely fulfilled.”
“Neither are you.”
“I know. I haven’t yet gotten the things I really want from life.”
“Ah, yes, the family and the cat.”
I gave him a stony glare. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“No. You want to create the very thing you wish you’d had—a strong family unit. You want people who’ll love you unconditionally, and people who you can love freely without others hating you for it; people who make you feel safe and secure and accepted. It’s not wrong to seek the solid, normal family you never had.”
“You’ve gone the opposite way from me, haven’t you? You’ve decided you don’t need the solid family you never had; you’ve decided that you don’t need anyone and that you’re better off alone. That’s not wrong either. We just want different things.” But I couldn’t try to make my plans a reality until I was no longer Mrs. Davenport. “At what point next July are you going to want me to sign divorce papers? The day after our anniversary might seem odd, but I guess it won’t matter at that point—you’ll have access to your trust fund, which is all you want.”
He hiked up a brow. “So eager to go through with the divorce, Vienna?”
“No, I was just asking.”
The corner of his mouth curved into a mocking smile. “One day, you’ll no doubt have the devoted husband you want.”
I narrowed my eyes at his sardonic tone.
“But for now,” he added, pitching his voice lower, “you’re here with me, wearing my rings, living in my home, using my surname.” The note of possession in his tone made my nape prickle. “Essentially, you’re mine for the time being, Vienna. And I’ll let you go when I’m good and ready.”
Chapter Seventeen
I lifted my highball glass and sipped at my drink; the fruity taste burst on my tongue. “I’m wondering at the wisdom of the multi-colored striped carpet. I mean, this is a bar—drinks must get spilled all the time. It would make more sense to have wooden flooring.”
Hanna’s nose wrinkled. “You think about the weirdest stuff when you’re drinking.”
“No, I don’t.”
“No? Just minutes ago, you ‘pondered’ whether people would be better adjusted adults if they didn’t watch Disney movies as kids.”
“Come on, those movies are full of tragedy and sorrow. Bambi’s mom died. Simba watched his father be murdered. Old Yeller was shot. An entire village was decimated in Mulan. Dumbo’s mom was locked up for trying to protect her son. Tod’s adopted mom abandoned him in the woods—okay, he was a fox, but there were hunters.”
“That scene was sad. But it was My Girl that destroyed my childhood. I mean, Vada’s best friend died after being stung by bees! I was terrified of them for months after that.”
“God, that movie was traumatic. The part where little Thomas is in the coffin and Vada loses it and starts balling her eyes out … it all left a scar on me for sure.”
Mouthing the lyrics to the song playing, I glanced around the upscale bar. It was trendy with its red, gold, and black color scheme. It wasn’t crowded, but it was busy. Patrons drank, talked, laughed, and even sang along to the music.
As I’d arranged the previous day, I’d come here straight from work with Hanna and some of our coworkers. Since I’d forgotten to tell Sam and Dane about it, I’d earlier rattled off a quick text message to the driver, informing him that I’d be taking a cab home tonight. I’d also texted Dane—who was attending another late dinner meeting—to say that I wouldn’t be back at his house until late. He hadn’t replied until half an hour ago, and that had only been to ask what bar I was at—no “have a good time” or anything like that.
Hanna took my hand and admired my rings. “I just love these. I don’t know why you won’t let me try them on. I’ll give them straight back.”
“You don’t think Dane would freak?”
“He’d never know.”
“We’re surrounded by coworkers who’d totally tell him.”
Her shoulders lowered. “Yeah, you’re right.” She leaned closer and said, “Sorry that some of them are being weird toward you—I didn’t expect that. They don’t act that way at work.”
They did; Hanna just hadn’t been around to see it. “But now they’re not at o-Verve and there’s no Dane around to fire them, so they feel comfortable being rude.”
The two women who usually gave me attitude at work, Rachel and Lianne, were now leaning into each other and whispering while staring at me. They also let out the occasional snicker. Ugh. Whatever.
The guys were worse. A few of them kept making passive-aggressive remarks and jokey comments that weren’t actually funny. They seemed to find themselves hilarious, though. Well, at least someone was laughing. The worst offenders had gone to the bar to flirt with some random strangers, and I sure hoped they stayed there.
Hanna adjusted her cleavage. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the ones being rude are either guys you turned down or women that Dane turned down. They’re just bitter. And jealous. And having an ego-related crisis because they were rejected in favor of someone else.”
“Hmm-mmm.” I shifted slightly, making the red leather cushion beneath me squeak a little. The sofa was long and stylish, much like many of the others that lined the walls of the bar. Not comfier than the furniture at Dane’s place, though. Speaking of which … “When are you finally going to get over your aversion to my house? Every time Ashley and I try and plan for the three of us to have a girls’ night there, you put us off.”
“I don’t have an aversion to your house. I’ve told you, it would just feel weird to hang out in my boss’s home.”
“It’s my home, too.” I placed my glass on the square napkin beside the lemon wedge I’d fished out of the drink. “And it’s not like you’ll have to hang with him. He’ll make himself scarce to give us privacy.”
“I know, but … I would just find it super hard to relax there. It’s Dane’s haven. He doesn’t even like having people in his office much. I’d feel out of place. Like I shouldn’t be there. Also, I’m not really in a rush to step into the home of a psych—”