Falling for Her Husband (6 page)

Decided then and there he would do whatever it took to never let her go again.

Chapter Nine

“You need to tell her the truth.”

Vince paced the length of his living room, his cell clutched tight to his ear. Leave it to his mother to be the only one to call him on his shit. “I plan on telling Amber the truth…in time.”

Claudia Renaldi snorted. Literally snorted. Vince hadn’t heard that indignant sound for far too long, and he wished to leave it that way. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. His mother was frustrated. Angry. If he didn’t watch it, she’d probably launch into a string of Italian, telling him exactly what she thought.

“In time. What does this mean, Vincenzo? That you string her along and let her believe everything between you two is bright and perfect?”

“It
is
perfect,” he said, because thankfully, it was. Like a little miracle, his relationship between him and his wife was doing so well.

She’d been home from the hospital for almost two weeks. During that time, she’d gone to physical therapy twice for her arm, which was now in a much smaller cast. Besides the PT, they only left the apartment for meals. Otherwise, they stayed in. Together.

Talking, laughing, lying about in bed naked. Touching, kissing, making love. It was ideal. The way they were together, it reminded him of how they’d been when they first married. That honeymoon phase hadn’t lasted long, much to his disappointment. He’d returned to Italy for work. She’d gone on one photo shoot trip after another for her job. They were rarely together…

And then it had gone to complete hell. Resulting in a terrible argument, ultimatums and an accident that could’ve ended Amber’s life.

He was having his second chance and he wasn’t about to let this go.

“Only because you are keeping the truth from her.” His mother paused, and he waited for her to continue. Because he knew she had plenty to say on the subject. “She won’t be upset if you tell her the truth, Vince. Look at what a wonderful, attentive husband you’ve been. She knows how much you love her. And I know that Amber loves you.”

Vince breathed deep, unable to deny what his mother said. Yes, they were in love. Yes, things were going well. But he was scared. He’d finally told Amber that more time had passed than she originally thought, that she’d simply forgotten everything because of the accident and subsequent coma possibly giving her amnesia. She’d accepted that explanation, though she’d been curious. Asking him all sorts of questions.

Was I still modeling? When did you come to live with me in New York? Have you met my parents yet? Why were we having such a heated discussion before the car hit me again?

He was able to answer most questions and evaded the rest. How he hated that.

“I told you I’ll tell her. But I’m going to take my time with it,” he finally said.

“What if she finds out by mistake? What if someone else tells her that there was trouble between the two of you? How would she feel then? Like you’d lied to her, that’s how,” Mama said.

“Who the hell could tell her besides you?” he said, his tone accusatory even though he didn’t mean it. But damn it, his mother was pushing every single one of his buttons and he didn’t have time for this shit. Amber was due back from physical therapy within the next fifteen minutes, so he needed to wrap this phone conversation up quick.

“As if I would say such a thing to my daughter-in-law,” his mother said with a sniff. Great, now he’d offended her. “That you would even imply so is hurtful, Vincenzo.”

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. He always felt like he was apologizing to the females in his life. “I swear, Mama, I will tell Amber everything. Slowly. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“Are you approaching this situation slowly to protect Amber? Or to protect yourself?”

As if he’d say “protect himself”. He’d sound like a selfish ass if he did so.

But he guessed that made him a selfish ass, then because that was exactly why he was doing this. It had everything to do with him not wanting Amber angry with him.

He didn’t want to lose the love of his life. If that made him a jerk, then so be it.

“My darling, be good. Tread carefully around that lovely wife of yours. Make this right.” His mother rattled off a bit more of advice before he finally hung up with her and he flung the phone from his hand, watching with satisfaction as it landed on the seat of the overstuffed chair nearby, exactly where he wanted it to go.

But the satisfaction left him as quickly as it came. He’d prefer smashing the damn phone against a wall and watching it shatter to a hundred pieces, but that was stupid. Pointless. He would have to channel his anger elsewhere. Turn the emotion into something else.

Like love for his beautiful, sweet wife, who was just walking into the apartment with a giant smile on her otherwise weary-looking face. “Vince. Come hug me.”

He loved how demanding she was and how silly but sweet those demands were. Striding toward her, he carefully tugged her into his arms and dropped a tiny kiss on the tip of her perfect nose. “Tough session?”

“I wish I could get this stupid cast off.” She raised her arm. “They say I’m healing, quickly and that they’re proud of my progress, but I don’t think that has much to do with me.”

“I’m proud of you too,” he said, dropping a kiss on her uninjured cheek. The bandage was gone, the healing gash on full public display, and she was terribly self-conscious of it. She covered it now, pulling away from him so she could touch it with the fingers of her left hand. “And you have everything to do with the quick healing of your arm.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed, her expression growing quickly somber. “I spoke to my mother today.”

“How is she?” He kept his voice purposely neutral, trying his hardest to ignore the fear rising within him.

“Worried about me. Thankful you’re here taking care of me.” Amber shook her head. “I told her that was my husband’s job and she laughed. Said that my dad never really took good care of her or any of us so it surprises her that you’d be so attentive.”

Vince frowned. This was the most she’d revealed about her family dynamics since he knew her. “Your father is not very…attentive?”

Amber sighed and hung her head, her tongue slipping out to lick her lips. He shouldn’t be aroused by a glimpse of her tongue. Damn it, they were trying to have a serious conversation.

But he was. His skin tightened at first sight of her tongue like he couldn’t control himself.

“I know I haven’t talked much about my family to you,” she said, her voice low, her gaze locked on the floor. “I might not be able to remember some things, but that I know for certain.”

“Why is that, Amber? Why haven’t you told me anything?” he asked gently.

“My father is a drunk. An alcoholic. He tries to work, but he can never hold down a job. Or he lies and says he’s working and he’s really at a bar getting drunk. Throughout the years I’ve put him in various rehabilitation centers and the place he’s in now is one of the most expensive in the US,” Amber explained. “We hide his behavior, his addiction. We always have. It’s become so ingrained in me, in my entire family, that we all just do it automatically. That’s why I didn’t tell you, Vince.”

“Because you didn’t trust me with such delicate information about your family?” He refused to be hurt by that. She’d grown up like this and he couldn’t hold it against her. Especially with the information he was withholding from her.

“Of course I trusted you. You’re my husband, I love you.” She lifted her head, her gaze imploring as she studied him. “Like I said, it’s how we functioned. Keeping his problems secret, not letting anyone know that he’s in and out of rehab. This is the last straw, Vince. This is the last place I will send him. If he can’t stay clean after leaving, then I can do nothing but stand back. I’ve given him what I can.”

“You’ve given him more than he deserved,” Vince said, his voice tight and full of anger. It wasn’t fair, Amber’s father taking advantage of her money, her ability to help him so easily. The money she must’ve thrown away for his rehabilitation only for none of it to stick…

Must make her sick to her stomach.

“He’s my father. I had to do for him what I could to make sure he received the help he needs.” She took a step toward him and he grabbed her, pulling her in close. “I hope you can understand and respect my decisions. I’m sorry that I kept this from you for so long.”

He felt like a complete ass just with her words. “There is no need for forgiveness. You did what you believed is right and I love you more for it.”

She sagged against him, her face pressed close to his chest. “I’m so lucky to have the most understanding husband in the entire world, I swear.”

Ignoring the wave of guilt slapping him in the face, he slipped his arms tight around her waist and squeezed her close. Held her like he was never going to let her go…

And he didn’t plan to either.

Amber let Vince hold her. She absorbed his strength, inhaled his scent and closed her eyes, reminding herself that her husband loved her so very much.

So why couldn’t she ask him about the strange dreams she’d been having? And the even stranger conversation she had with her mother?

She’d been plagued with dreams—nightmares, really—of her and Vince fighting. Of their voices rising with every angry word they hurled at each other until finally she always offers the same threat.

I’m leaving. I want a divorce.

Each time she woke up in a sweat, her heart racing, the panic consuming her. She’d lie there, her husband snuggled up close, and stare at the ceiling. Mentally telling herself it was all just a dream. The argument wasn’t real. She loved Vince and he loved her.

The dreams lingered, though. Hung in the dark corners of her mind, making her feel like it was all too damn real. She tried her best to shove the awful thoughts away, but they felt too much like…

Memories.

When her mother called while she was on her way to physical therapy, they’d had a great conversation. Her mother had been full of guilt at first at not being able to leave and come see her, but how could she? Amber’s little brother and sister were in elementary school, Mom worked fulltime and Dad was in rehab. It would’ve been impossible. Amber was tired of the guilt and basically told her mother exactly that. Her mom totally agreed, then said something odd.

I’m sure you and Vince feel the same way, right? Ridding yourselves of the guilt? I’m so glad to see the two of you have patched things up.

She’d wanted to question Mom further, but then she changed the subject, launching into a long, wrung-out discussion about her dad. Not wanting to deviate, Amber let her mom get it all out. Her mom had no one else to talk to—everyone she knew was tired of pretending sympathy when really they wanted to yell at her to dump the loser once and for all.

Amber knew this because she’d felt the same exact thing once or twice herself. It didn’t matter that the loser in question was her father. He did nothing but drag Mom down.

But she didn’t seem to mind. She was loyal to a fault.

All the rehabilitation Amber paid for was more for her mother than her father. Her mom deserved a better life than being married to a reckless drunk.

During the return drive home she rehearsed it fifty different ways, how she should ask Vince about what her mom said. She’d come up with what she thought was a nonthreatening way to ask him and had fully planned on doing so the moment she got home.

The comments she and her mom made about guilt had ate at her, though. She’d never admitted to her husband about her father’s drinking problem. No one knew outside of the family and what few friends her mom had. It was their dirty little secret, so it had felt good to unload on Vince. And he’d been so thoughtful, so understanding, she knew she’d done the right thing.

That was why it was so hard to confront him about their past troubles. Troubles she didn’t recall and that left her completely frustrated. Vince was so attentive, so loving, she had a hard time wrapping her head around them having such problems that she would’ve spoke to her mom about it. That she would be having dreams about it.

But there the hazy facts were, staring her in the face. It was hard to reconcile, but she needed to.

“Vince,” she started, withdrawing from him slightly so she could meet his gaze. He studied her openly, his mouth curved into the faintest smile, his eyebrows lifted. He looked so happy she just couldn’t confront him. She chickened out. “I’m thinking I would like to go to a psychologist.”

His dark brows instantly furrowed and his smile turned into a frown. “Why? Are you unhappy?”

“No, absolutely not.” She shook her head with a little wince. Her arm was bugging her. She’d heard murmurings of yet another surgery if it didn’t heal properly and that was the last thing she wanted to dwell on right now. “I just…I don’t like not remembering things. I feel like a piece of my life is missing.”

“Just a short piece,” he interrupted.

“But still a piece. And I don’t like it. It’s confusing. I want to know what happened. I want to know what I was doing those last few months before the accident.”
I want to know why we weren’t getting along
, she almost added, but didn’t.

Yet again, she was a chicken.

“If those memories resurface, they might…upset you. Like of the accident.” He peered at her, his dark eyes full of turbulence. “Do you really want to remember? Is that what you want? Aren’t you afraid of risking it? Knowing what happened might be too painful to face.”

“I’m willing to take the risk,” she said firmly. “I can’t live like this. Maybe others can, but I can’t. I want to remember. I want to talk to a psychologist who might know some techniques about coaxing out repressed memories. I know specialists are out there.” She’d talked to her doctor about it last time she went for an appointment, the day that Vince couldn’t go with her because of an important meeting for his work with his family’s accessories business. She loved that her husband was able to be so attentive since she’d come home from the accident, but he did have a job and a career that needed his attention.

Once upon a time, so did she.