6
VIVIEN
My hand shakes as I lift my glass of sparkling water to my lips, keeping the false smile plastered on my face like I’ve done all night, from the moment I set foot in the hotel. The paternity results are only one of my concerns though. Reeve has barely spoken to me since I arrived. While it’s been difficult to get alone time—because Reeve is the guest speaker this year, and he’s in high demand—there have been a few moments at the table during dinner when we had time to ourselves, and my husband ignored me, eating his dinner instead of talking to me.
I’ve suspected all day that something happened last night, but I’m one hundred percent confident now Reeve is avoiding me because he’s discovered at least part of the truth. It’s the only explanation for the cold-shoulder treatment I’m receiving.
I wish I could drink alcohol because I could really use some vodka right now.
Reeve avoids eye contact with me as he delivers an emotional speech, from the podium at the top of the room, discussing the many ways the charity supports disadvantaged children and those removed from their homes due to neglect and abuse. Genuine tears pool in his eyes as he flicks through slides showing the various facilities the charity is building to offer an alternative home to some of these kids. Strong Together is a cause we are both passionate about, and we always attend the annual fundraising gala to throw our weight behind such a worthy cause.
Tonight is the first time I’m wishing we were anywhere but here.
I need to talk to Reeve.
Especially as Dillon is blowing up my cell, only adding to my stress. The sooner we get home, the better. I’ve decided I’m telling my husband everything tonight. I can’t hold off for Dillon’s showdown because it’s clear Reeve already knows something.
It’s time to come clean.
Now Dillon has the proof he is Easton’s father, I very much doubt he will broadcast the news over social media. It’s still a risk, but it’s one I have no choice but to take. My husband can hardly look at me, and the only thing worse than the truth is fragments of the truth. In this moment, I have no clue what he believes, and that’s a truly scary prospect.
After posing with Reeve and the charity directors for photos, I manage to grab him to one side for a few seconds. “Can we make our excuses and leave?” I whisper.
“Eager to get home or eager to get away from me?” he asks in a sneering tone I don’t much care for.
“We need to talk, and this can’t wait.”
“You’re right,” he snaps. “It can’t.”
I rub my hands over my belly, fighting tears as Reeve levels me with an angry look I haven’t seen in a long, long time. His eyes bore into mine, and he drops the invisible mask he’s wearing for a second, showcasing his devastation for the entire room to see. Thank fuck, no one is paying us any attention right now.
A half hour later, we finally make our goodbyes and leave the room, hand in hand. The instant we are out in the hallway, Reeve drops my hand like it’s on fire. Pain stabs holes in my heart as I hurry after my husband, half running to keep up with his long-legged strides.
Rain is plummeting from the sky in a heavy downpour that is most unusual for May. Reeve bristles with anger as we stand under the shelter of the awning while the valet retrieves our car. The porter opens an umbrella as our sleek black and gold Maserati draws up to the curb. Reeve slides his arm around my back, holding me in close as we walk carefully on slippery steps toward our car. At this proximity, I feel his entire body trembling, and my mouth turns dry.
This is bad. Really fucking bad, and I’m terrified I’m going to lose him.
Reeve directs me to the passenger side, and I turn to him as he opens the door. “You’ve been drinking. I’ll drive.”
He shakes his head, his jaw pulling taut. “I only had a few, and I’m not drunk.”
“But it’s raining and—”
“You really don’t want to push me right now, Vivien.” His eyes burn with conflicting emotions as he stares at me. “Do you honestly think I would drive if I wasn’t fit to drive? Do you think I’d put your life and our unborn child’s life at risk by driving if I wasn’t in full control of my faculties?”
Swallowing thickly, I shake my head.
“Then get in the damn car, Viv.”
I’m a quivering mess as I climb into my seat, buckling my seat belt with trembling fingers while I attempt to control my errant tear ducts.
Reeve tips the valet before sliding behind the wheel. Beads of rain cling to his hair and the shoulders of his black tuxedo jacket as he straps himself in. He doesn’t speak or look at me as he starts the engine and glides out onto the semi-busy street.
Reeve avoids the highway, choosing to travel home on less busy roads. I stare out the window, wrapping my arms around myself as I cry invisible tears. Turmoil has been my constant companion since I got the results, and the pain in my heart is so intense I wonder if this is what it feels like when you are on the verge of a heart attack.
Reeve says nothing, quietly seething, until we’re on a quieter stretch of open road, and then he rounds on me. “Is there nothing you want to say to me?”
Slowly, I turn to face him, flinching at the angry look on his face. “I think we should wait until we get home to talk.”