The Billionaire Who Timed My Love And Gave Hers For Free Chapter 02

The Billionaire Who Timed My Love And Gave Hers For Free Chapter 02

Julian got home at four a.m.

I wasn’t asleep.

Something rusted and sharp had taken up residence in my stomach. Every shift in bed sent it twisting.

He set a box of antacids on the nightstand.

“You skipped dinner. Of course your stomach hurts.”

He bent down, tucked the blanket around me. His voice dropped half a register.

“Don’t punish yourself to make a point.”

This was his pattern. Right when I was hurting the most, he’d soften. Just enough.

Like he could sense I was close to breaking, so he’d bend. Just a fraction.

And then he’d wait for me to do the rest. To patch the fracture with my own hands.

“Did you finish Sloane’s proposal?”

His hand paused on his tie.

“She’s under a lot of pressure. The client changed direction last minute.”

“So everything before four a.m. was all work?”

He glanced at me.

“Mara. I don’t like the attitude.”

I pushed myself upright. My stomach screamed.

“I just want to understand something. When I had a hundred-and-two-degree fever, twenty-nine minutes wasn’t enough to come get me.”

“But she cried once and you spent five hours at her place.”

Two seconds of dead air.

Julian came to the bedside. His face gave away nothing.

“You’re my wife. You have a home.”

“Sloane’s different. She’s alone in this city. She doesn’t have anyone.”

Something in my chest caved in.

So marrying him was the thing that disqualified me. Having a home meant I didn’t need him in it.

The next afternoon, the pain came back so hard I was drenched in cold sweat.

I didn’t call Julian.

It wasn’t seven yet. He wouldn’t pick up anyway.

I called an Uber and went to the ER alone.

The nurse slid the IV needle into the back of my hand and looked up.

“Anyone here with you?”

“He’s busy,” I said.

She looked at how pale I was and let it go.

I didn’t expect to see Julian at the end of the hall.

Sloane was on a bench with a Band-Aid on her finger.

Julian was crouched in front of her, rolling up her sleeve like she was made of glass.

I looked down at my own hand. The IV taped to the back of it.

Something about it almost made me laugh.

Pain had nothing to do with the size of the wound.

It was about who was doing the hurting. And who got held afterward.

Sloane spotted me first.

She yanked her hand back.

“Mara, it’s not what it looks like. I just nicked my finger on an envelope. Mr. Whitmore insisted on dragging me here.”

Julian turned. His eyes went straight to the IV in my hand.

His brow creased.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Would you have picked up?”

Sloane’s eyes went glassy.

“Oh God, is this my fault? Mara, I had no idea you were here too.”

Julian straightened up. His voice cooled.

“Mara, she’s presenting tomorrow. She can’t afford anything happening to that hand.”

“You’re already being treated. Don’t make a scene.”

My stomach seized.

Worse than before.

The nurse called me back to pull the IV.

I was turning away when I caught Sloane’s voice behind me.

“Mr. Whitmore, go be with Mara. I’m fine, really.”

He didn’t even pause.

“She can handle it.”

I ducked my head so no one could see my face. I was smiling.

Yeah. I could handle it.

I could come to the hospital alone.

Sit through an IV alone.

I could white-knuckle this marriage all by myself. Right up until the moment I couldn’t.