Chapter 8 - THE HUSBAND WHO FINALLY CHOSE ME
Three days later, Ethan appeared on live television.
Not through a publicist.
Not through a prepared corporate statement.
He sat across from a journalist and answered questions.
“Mr. Whitmore, was your marriage financially motivated?”
“Yes,” Ethan said.
The interviewer blinked.
He continued.
“I asked Claire to marry me because I believed I needed control of the voting shares to protect the company.”
“And she agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Was she paid?”
“No.”
The interviewer leaned forward.
“Then why did she agree?”
Ethan looked directly into the camera.
“Because she believed me when I said employees could lose their jobs.”
My eyes filled.
I was watching from the back room of Wild June.
Mia stood beside me.
Ethan continued.
“Claire insisted on protecting her business. She refused gifts. She challenged me when I was wrong.”
The interviewer asked:
“Do you love your wife?”
Ethan went still.
Then he smiled.
Not the polished smile he used at shareholder meetings.
The real one.
“Yes.”
One word.
Certain.
“I love my wife.”
I covered my mouth.
He continued.
“And I owe her an apology for ever making her feel like our marriage was something less than real.”
The interviewer looked surprised.
“Are you saying the arrangement changed?”
Ethan nodded.
“I changed.”
Then he said:
“Claire, if you're watching, I don't want you to stay because of a contract.”
My heart stopped.
“I want you to stay because you want a life with me.”
Mia began crying.
I laughed through tears.
Then Ethan added:
“And if you decide you don't, I'll still protect your right to make that choice.”
For the first time in months, I felt something loosen inside my chest.
That evening, Ethan came to Wild June.
He stood outside holding a small bouquet of yellow roses.
My mother's favorite.
I opened the door.
He looked nervous.
“Can we talk?”
I stepped aside.
We sat in the back room.
He placed the flowers on the table.
“I meant everything I said.”
I looked at him.
“Even the part about loving me?”
His eyes softened.
“Especially that part.”
I began crying.
He reached for my hand.
“Claire, I don't know when it happened.”
I laughed through tears.
“That's comforting.”
He smiled.
“Maybe it was the risotto. Maybe it was the first time you argued with me about refrigeration repairs. Maybe it was watching you spend your Sunday making flowers for a funeral you knew the family couldn't afford.”
His voice broke.
“But somewhere along the way, you became the person I wanted to come home to.”
I stared at him.
Then whispered:
“I've loved you since I was sixteen.”
Ethan went completely still.
“What?”
I smiled sadly.
“Surprise.”
He closed his eyes.
Then pulled me into his arms.
“Claire,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“No.”
He held me tighter.
“You have no idea how much I wish I'd known.”
I kissed him.
For the first time, without wondering whether it meant something different to him.
May you like
And when he kissed me back, I knew.
It meant everything.
