By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

Time is meant to be a healer but as the days pass, the pain never recedes. In fact, it only gets worse. So does my guilt over keeping this secret. It grows and grows inside me and my concern over the fact I’ve done nothing but a pregnancy test to this point is building.

I thought time out here would help clear my head, but so far, I haven’t felt anything close to clarity.

Everything is just as big a mess as it was when I left Chicago, only now, I’m alone.

A couple of days ago, I finally replied to one of Lori’s emails. I couldn’t take it anymore; I needed to talk to someone.

After a few emails back and forth, I finally plucked up the courage to face her and we video-called on my computer.

I cried the entire time.

If I was hoping to convince her that everything was okay, then I failed massively.

I didn’t tell her the truth. I wanted to, but she can’t be the first person I tell. It has to be Kingston, no matter how painful that experience will be. Facing him will be heartbreaking. Confessing will be agonizing.

She put all my pain down to heartbreak, and she cried right along with me.

I managed to get a little more sleep that night. Unloading at least some of what I’m feeling on my best friend helped, even if only for a few hours.

I haven’t spoken to Miles yet, although I have replied to his emails. They were becoming more and more frantic with worry. He already has enough on his plate; I don’t need to be added to his stress. Just another thing to feel guilty about.

I’m fucking everything up.

My life, obviously, has gone to hell in a handbasket, but I’m dragging those I love right along with me, and I hate it.

I just want everyone to be happy.

The only one who seems to be rolling with the punches is Kingston.

Lori hasn’t seen him; Miles hasn’t so much as mentioned his name. So I guess his life is business as usual, as if I never existed.

Finally, the cold spell that was holding part of the country in its clutches seems to have passed, leaving behind beautiful warm spring days that are full of hope for the future.

With a cup of decaf tea in hand and a bag of fresh pastries I picked up on my morning walk, I take myself out to the small courtyard-style garden. It sits at the side of my rental, allowing me to see both the street and the fields behind. Lowering myself into the swing chair that I’ve moved so it’s in the sun, I let out a sigh of contentment as I relax.

There is nothing but the sound of the birds in the trees nearby.

It’s the perfect haven, but no matter how peaceful it is, the knot that’s been getting tighter and tighter inside me never relents.

I sip my tea, willing it to release, to give me some kind of relief for even just a few minutes, but it never does.

Instead, all I can think about is him.

Kingston Callahan.

My husband.

It’s been two weeks since I looked into his eyes and felt his touch, his warmth. While those two weeks feel like a lifetime ago, it also feels like only yesterday. I can still viscerally remember how my entire body lit up when his fingers grazed my skin.

No one else has ever left me with this kind of longing.

I’ve always been able to separate sex from feelings, and I truly thought I’d be able to do the same with him.

A man I thought I hated.

Really, it shouldn’t have been a challenge. But then, I didn’t expect to find that hidden side of him. The sweet, romantic side that made me swoon harder than I ever had before.

I shake my head, silently chastising myself for even thinking about him, about the effect he has on me. That isn’t what I’m meant to be using this time for.

I’m meant to be putting distance between us, planning my future.

But honestly, I have no idea what my life looks like after Kingston.

Right now, it feels bleak. Lifeless. Unfulfilling.

No man should have the power to rip all those things away from me. It’s not fair.

A single tear trickles from the corner of my eye and I swipe it away angrily.

I glance at my tablet that’s sitting on the cushion beside me. The urge to call Lori burns through me, but it’s too early. She won’t be up yet.

Miles will…

Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve logged into my video chat app and my finger is hovering over his contact.

Nerves assault me out of nowhere.

Will he even want to talk to me?

I was a coward, leaving my resignation on his desk and running.

A strong woman would have handed it over and then walked out with her head held high.

Before all of this, I have every confidence that I’d have done exactly that.

But I’m struggling to grasp the woman I was before all of this. The one who stuck her middle finger up and said “fuck the world”. I hate it. I hate being this fucking broken and vulnerable.

“Fuck it,” I mutter before tapping my finger against the screen.

Not a second later does the dial tone fill the air as I wait with my heart in my throat to discover if my big brother will answer or not.

I startle when the screen freezes, but then the most incredible thing happens.

Miles’s sleepy face fills the screen.

His hair is a wild mess, sticking up in all directions. His eyes are barely open and surrounded by dark, swollen circles, and there is a thick pillow crease in his cheek. He looks exhausted, confused, but kinda cute, in an annoying big brother way.

“Tate,” he rasps. “Fuck. Are you okay?” He pushes himself up, letting the sheets fall from his body.

“Ew, dude. Put it away,” I tease when his toned torso comes into view.

I immediately feel better being able to tease him.

“You’re just jealous because it’s hotter than anyone you’ve ever been with.”

“Dangerous territory, Miles,” I warn.

“Shit, yeah. I need coffee.” He glances to the side and balks. “Do you know what time it is here?”

“I’m sorry, I can go. I just⁠—”

“No, no,” he says, propping himself up against his headboard and resting his cell on his knees. “I’m here. How are you?” he asks a little hesitantly.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “You know. Processing, I guess.”

He stares at me. Really stares at me. It makes me want to recoil and hide.

“You look good,” he says, forcing a bitter laugh to spill from my lips.

“I don’t, but thanks for the confidence boost, Bro.”

“No, I mean it. I think the English countryside is doing you some good.”

Still unconvinced by his assessment, I change the subject, although not to anything less painful.

“They’ve sold the cottage.”

“Shit,” Miles hisses, dragging his hand down his face. “I know, Tate. I’m so fucking sorry. As soon as KC got those papers, everything just⁠—”

“It’s okay,” I lie. “I knew what I was doing when I instructed Richard to initiate our divorce. It’s the right thing to do.”

His expression turns sad, reverent even.

“Miles,” I warn. “Do not tell me that you’re going to argue about this. You hated the idea of us being together.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I did hate it. But then…I dunno,” he says with a shrug. “I saw the two of you together and I guess it all just kinda made sense.”

A laugh full of disbelief and amazement bubbles up.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” Miles says firmly. “I saw it, Tate. You really liked him.”

Tears burn my eyes as the cold hard truth in his words slams into me.

“Miles, please. Don’t do this. Talk to me about⁠—”

“Work?” he asks with wide eyes, already predicting that I’m not going to want to go there either.

“Shit,” I mutter. “I’m sorry.’ I’ve already said it in the email, but it’s not enough. I’m not sure sorry will ever be enough for the way I left.

“I know you are, T. It’s okay. I understand.”

“Is everything…going okay?” I don’t want to know, but also, I do. Warner Group is Miles’s entire life now, and I want to know how he’s doing, how he’s coping.

“It’s… going,” he says, his chest decompressing as all the air rushes from his lungs. “It’s fucking hard, T. I knew it would be, but fuck. Letting people go is really fucking hard. Every day something is changing; it’s hard to keep track of everything.”

“It’ll be worth it,” I promise him.

“I wish I had you beside me.”

“You’ve got King, you don’t need me.”

“Don’t we?”

We.

Fuck, if that one word doesn’t slice my chest clean open.

“Miles,” I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.

“Sorry, but it’s true. I’m not the only one who needs you.”

It’s the first bit of evidence that maybe King isn’t as okay with all of this as I assumed he was. But while I might have thought that hearing he was suffering too would help me, it really fucking doesn’t.

I don’t want to hurt him.

I don’t want to hurt either of us, but I feel like I’m bleeding out right here on the swing seat.

“I-I can’t hear this, Miles.”

“What happened, Tate?”

I shake my head, closing my eyes and trapping the truth behind my lips.

“It all just got too much. Dad, King, the wedding, work. Everything just⁠—”

His eyes narrow, making me wish I could put a barrier up between us so he can’t see the truth playing out in my eyes.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“It’s more than that. My little sister can cope with more than what’s been thrown at her recently. It takes a hell of a lot more than that to break her.”

Emotion bubbles up faster than I can control.

“Shit. No. Don’t cry,” he soothes.

“I’m sorry. I just…I can’t keep it up anymore,” I confess weakly.

“I wish I was there,” he says sadly. “I hate that you’re alone.”

Steeling myself, I wipe my eyes and hold his through the screen. “I’m okay. I need to be alone right now.”

“But you don’t have to be,” he says, detecting my lie the second it falls from my lips.

Silence falls between us. It’s not uncomfortable, but the unanswered questions lingering in the air between us ensure I don’t fully relax.

“Is there anything any of us can do to change your mind?”

“About King or work?”

“Both, either. Anything. I miss you.”

I shrug. “I don’t know what I want or where I belong right now.”

“Here, Tate. You belong here. You always have.”

A sob erupts. I hate how lost my big brother looks.

I want to be there for him. I do. But I can’t. It’s not my place.

Although, what I just said is true. I have no idea where my place actually is.

I thought it was here. But something is missing.

Miles yawns and guilt rushes through me that I’m stopping him from sleeping when he so clearly needs it.

“I should let you go.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t need to be at the office for a few hours.”

“Then you need to sleep. I’ll call you again at a more sensible time.”

He stares at me.

“I promise. I might not be there, but I’m still here, Miles. If you need me, no matter what it’s for, I’m here.” The words fall a little flat considering that I ran from him only two weeks ago with no warning or any way to really contact me, but I lay them out regardless.

“I know. I love you, T.”

“I love you too, big brother.”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he says with more hope glittering in his eyes than I think he should have.

Can I go back to Chicago anytime soon? I’m not sure.

But then, do I want to stay here? No, I’m not certain I want that either.

The cottage has already been sold.

I did this. I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.

The second we hang up, coldness rushes through me quickly followed by a wave of homesickness so strong, I think for a second that I might actually vomit.

Abandoning my tablet, I push to my feet and walk into the cottage with my now cold cup of tea.

After using the bathroom and giving myself a talking-to in an attempt to get my head straight, I make myself a fresh drink and head back outside. I’m halfway to the swing seat when I stop dead on the spot.

In the middle of the small outside table is a massive bunch of flowers.

No. Not just flowers.

The exact same ones that were in my wedding bouquet.

Oh my god.

He came.