“Are you gonna be quiet for me?”
No. Nope. Not going there. Not right now.
“So, you’re not in love with her anymore.” I state, and he shakes his head. “And you don’t want to get back together.”
“Fuck no.”
“Then why was she at your parent’s house? Does she still want you?”
He’s shaking his head before I even finish my question. “Kira doesn’t love me anymore than I love her. But she does love money.”
“Money?” I repeat, like the idea of Beckett having a lot of money is ridiculous.
He huffs out a bitter laugh, “The irony is, her dad insisted we sign a prenup.”
My eyebrows raise, “She’s rich?”
“Not her, her dad. He was worth, I dunno, millions, and I was just starting my business. Guess he worried I’d use her to funnel all his money into my own business. Who knows? But the result was an iron clad agreement where we’d keep our finances separate for the first ten years.” Beckett’s smile gradually grows to a grin. “Best decision we ever made, though Kira would argue otherwise.”
I tilt my head, thinking back through all our interactions. The times he said “my company”, how he laughed when I asked if he had a job, spending a small fortune on these damn play tickets.
“I take it your company did well?” I ask.
He lifts a shoulder, “After selling off the Chicago branch, I’m worth more than Kira’s father. And that doesn’t seem to be sitting well with her.”
Millions.
I feel my mouth pop open. He’d said that other guy was worth millions.
It doesn’t matter.
I repeat to myself. Twice.
It doesn’t matter that he’s actually loaded. Like, stupid loaded. Because I don’t need his money. I don’t want his money. I just want to be with someone I can trust. And that means no more secrets. For either of us.
“I recognized her,” I blurt out.
It’s Beckett’s turn to look confused, “Kira?”
I nod, “Yeah.” I’m already regretting bringing this up. I don’t know why it seems so much worse now, knowing what she became for him. Even if he doesn’t love her anymore, or ever, if I’m supposed to believe that. “From your parent’s house actually.” I nearly laugh, realizing it’s the truth. “She was at that Christmas party.”
I see when he remembers the moment I’m talking about. The moment that meant so much to me at the time. The moment his future wife ruined.
“Aw, hell.” He grips one of my hands in both of his. “I’m so fucking sorry, Smoky. For all of it.”
The sincerity in his voice weaves its way between my ribs and ties itself around my heart.
He means every word, and it’s suddenly hard to swallow.
One hand lets go, moving to cup the back of my head.
Beckett pulls me in closer, pressing his lips to my forehead, his words whispering over my skin, “I’m sorry.”
I don’t have an answer for him, not yet. And when the lights dim, letting us know intermission is almost over, I’m thankful for the reprieve.
* * *
Applause fills the auditorium as all the actors step onto the stage for a bow, and I lift my head from its place on Beckett’s shoulder.