Chapter30 You're My Wife
Chloe
The house felt different after Tiffany left—not smaller, just more conspicuous in what it represented.
Your job, your housing, your mother's treatment—all in his hands. I shook my head, but Tiffany's words were lodged too deep.
When Julian came, I was sitting on the edge of our bed pretending to read. The book was open in my lap, but I hadn't turned a page in twenty minutes.
"Hey." His voice was soft as he closed the door. He'd already loosened his tie. "You're still up."
"Couldn't sleep."
He settled beside me, close but not touching. I kept staring at the same paragraph, the words blurring together.
Don't let him be your whole world.
"It's getting late," I said finally, too bright. "We should probably get some rest. You have that early meeting tomorrow, right?"
Julian's eyes caught the lamplight. "Do I?"
My face heated. "I thought—never mind."
The silence stretched. I bit my lip, hyperaware of every sound.
"Chloe. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just tired."
I turned away, curling onto my side. "Good night."
I switched off my lamp. The room plunged into semi-darkness.
This is good. This is maintaining boundaries.
But my heart was pounding and some traitorous part of me was screaming turn around, reach for him.
The mattress shifted. I went rigid.
Then the lamp clicked back on.
Before I could react, warmth flooded my back—Julian's chest pressing against me, his arm sliding around my waist. His breath ghosted over my ear.
"Trying to run away from me already?"
My pulse skittered. "I'm not—I was just going to sleep."
"Without saying good night properly?" His voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge beneath it. "That's not very polite, Mrs. Astor."
The title made my stomach flip. "I thought you still had work to do."
"Work can wait." His lips brushed my ear. "You're more important."
Don't believe it. This is what he does—he makes you feel special so you'll forget you have no power here.
But his hand was warm over my stomach, and I was already leaning back into him.
"You seemed upset earlier," he murmured. "When I came home. Did something happen with Tiffany?"
My throat constricted. "No. It was fine."
"Chloe." He turned me gently onto my back, propping himself on one elbow. "Talk to me."
I couldn't. If I told him what Tiffany said, he'd see the doubt, the fear. "I'm okay," I whispered. "Really."
He searched my face, deciding whether to push. Finally, he leaned down and kissed my forehead. "All right. But if something's bothering you, I want to know."
He settled back, tugging me against his side. "You know, you don't have to pretend with me."
"I'm not pretending."
"You are." His hand stilled. "Something's on your mind."
Everything. Everything is on my mind.
But I couldn't say that. So I turned my face into his chest and breathed in bergamot and cedar.
"I'm just tired," I repeated.
He didn't believe me. But instead of pressing, he tilted my chin up and kissed me.
It was slow and achingly gentle, and I felt my resolve cracking. When he pulled back, my thoughts were scattered.
"Better?" His thumb brushed my lower lip.
I should have said no. Should have maintained some distance.
But the word that came out was, "Yes."
He reached over to turn off his lamp. Then he shifted us both down, his arm heavy across my waist.
"Sleep," he murmured. "I've got you."
That's the problem. You've got me, and I don't know how to get free anymore.
But I closed my eyes anyway.
---
I didn't know how long I lay there, listening to Julian's breathing even out.
Figure out what you want, separate from what he wants. Tiffany's voice wouldn't leave me alone. Can you leave?
No. The answer was no.
My mother's treatment. My job. This house. All of it hinged on him.
But it was more than that. It was the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room. The way he remembered my favorite foods, held me like I was something precious.
Don't confuse kindness with love. Don't mistake control for care.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper.
Maybe Tiffany was right. Maybe I was losing myself.
But lying there, feeling Julian's steady heartbeat, I couldn't bring myself to care.
Just for tonight, I told myself. Just for tonight, let it be enough.
I woke to Julian's lips on my neck.
"Hey," he whispered. "You awake?"
I made a soft sound.
His hand slid down my side. "I've been thinking about how you tried to hide from me earlier."
My eyes snapped open. "I wasn't—"
"You were." His mouth found the spot below my ear. "I don't like it when you pull back from me."
Heat pooled low in my stomach. "I wasn't trying to shut you out. I was just—"
"Scared?"
I swallowed hard. "Maybe."
"Of me?"
"No. Of this. Of how much I—"
I stopped myself. Of how much I need you. Of how much power you have.
"How much you what?"
I couldn't say it. So instead, I kissed him.
It was desperate and messy. My hands fisted in his shirt, and he made a low sound that sent electricity down my spine.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Don't," I whispered. "Don't ask me to explain. Not tonight."
He stared at me. Then his hand slid into my hair.
"All right. Not tonight."
His mouth found mine again, slower but no less intense. I felt myself surrendering. Tomorrow I'll worry about boundaries. Tonight, I just want this.
His hands were everywhere, and when his lips trailed down my neck, I heard myself make a sound I didn't recognize.
"Julian—" My voice broke. "Wait. Don't leave marks. Not where people at work can see."
He pulled back. "You care what they think?"
"I care about keeping my job. I don't want people to assume things."
His expression was unreadable. "You think they'll judge you."
"I know they will. I've worked so hard to prove I belong there."
"They won't." His thumb brushed my lip. "I won't let them."
He shifted us until I was on my side, his chest against my back. "I'll be careful. No visible marks."
Relief flooded through me. "Thank you."
His arm tightened. "But you need to remember something, Chloe. No matter what anyone else thinks, you're my wife. That doesn't change."
My wife. The words sent a shiver through me.
"I know," I whispered.
"Do you? Because sometimes I think you forget."
I stayed quiet, letting him pull me closer.
Just for tonight, I told myself. Tomorrow I'll figure out how to protect myself. Tonight, I'll just let go.
---
Afterward, Julian carried me to the bathroom and ran a bath.
I leaned against him in the water, too exhausted to protest. His fingers traced patterns on my arm.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
That I'm in too deep. That I don't know how to want you less.
"Nothing," I said. "Just tired."
"You say that a lot."
"Because it's true."
"Or because you don't want to tell me what's really going on in that head of yours."
I closed my eyes. "Maybe both."
He pressed a kiss to my temple. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything."
Can I? Can I tell you I'm terrified of how much I need you?
"I know," I lied.
When the water cooled, he wrapped me in a towel and carried me back to bed.
I was half-asleep when he pulled the covers over us and drew me against his chest.
"Sleep," he murmured. "I'll be right here."
That's what I'm afraid of.
But I didn't say it. I let myself sink into his warmth, into the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Tomorrow I'll start protecting my heart. Tonight, I'll just pretend this is enough.
Even though I knew it wasn't. Even though Tiffany's warnings were still there, waiting in the morning light.
Even though I knew I was falling, and there was no one to catch me but the man who was already holding all the cards.
But for now—just for now—I let myself believe it would be okay.
And in the darkness, wrapped in Julian's arms, I finally fell asleep.