Home > Chasing Mrs. Knightly (Chasing #5)(15)

Chasing Mrs. Knightly (Chasing #5)(15)
Author: Pamela Ann

“That may be so, but the blatant fact remains the same. I may be all things right now, but my gut is never wrong, Sienna. It’s there, and it’s telling me that it is.”

He was plainly being ridiculous. I didn’t want to hear any more of this crap. It was diminishing my hopes and dreams, and I didn’t want him to take that away. As much as I loved him, I couldn’t sacrifice all of that for him.

“I’m really sorry that you’re hurting, but please don’t take this out on me, knowing very well that you were aware of what you were committing yourself to the day you agreed to marry me.”

“Are you really sorry, cara?” he questioned with a straight face. “Because, from where I’m standing, you look like you don’t have a care in the world…. Just as long as your lovely, little world isn’t shaken up, you are quite okay to happily ignore the things that are happening around you.”

He kept stabbing me with his words as weapons, and I wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer. I’d had enough of it. “I’m going home. I’ll see you when you get back.” I reluctantly went close to him and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Blake.”

Desperate Measures

Blake

“I’m sorry, Blake,” she merely whispered against my ear before she walked out of the room while I watched after her, noting the massive gap that was stretching between us.

Even though grandfather was sound asleep, I stayed a while, needing the comfort of the steady beating of his heart and breathing monitor that made an echoing noise in the background.

Had my wish been so selfish that she’d immediately brush it off without some thought? Sienna hadn’t even batted a single one of those sooty lashes before making a decision. She had simply brushed it off as if I’d get over it the next day, as if it was some kind of irritating noise in the background. I had hoped she’d at least consider my proposal without shutting it down fully just because she felt like she was being trapped into doing something she didn’t want to do. I never meant for it to come off as an obligation—never—but at the very least, she could’ve at least discussed how and why I had come about this decision, even though we had come to a very logical agreement six months prior.

She infuriated me to no end, although there was no doubt in my mind that I couldn’t stand not having her in my life. Last night, for example, I meant to directly go to the office and sort out the mess I had left my people to deal with because I was too frazzled to function after my grandfather’s unfortunate circumstances. However, even though my mind had been dead-set on heading to the office, I had somehow found myself driving towards our home. Upon realizing the route I had chosen, the immediate need to see her, even for the shortest of minutes, had felt more vital than breathing itself.

Also, the urgency to spill my current dilemma was essential. All the while driving there, I had fought with myself, arguing that she might be busy and my proposal could wait until later on. Still, I had found myself in the driveway fifteen minutes later, resolute on seeing Sienna. I’d thought then that I had enough faith in our bond that she might at least try to see it from my perspective.

How wrong had I been when merely seconds after my revelation, she’d immediately fielded everything and completely blocked any sensible reasoning that could put some shed of light to my argument. Was I angry that she’d reacted this way? Only a little, but I also knew I couldn’t hold it against her because she had made it precisely clear where she stood with the subject beforehand. Was I disappointed that my wife couldn’t even stand the thought of pretending to consider it at least? Most definitely.

Pondering my problems wasn’t one of my main past times, yet sure enough, the past days had been bombarded by it, which was when the idea had pressed into my mind.

I had thought it might rattle her a little, might even deserve me a hard slap for having the audacity to ask it of her. Never had I pictured her giving me a cold, accusatory look as if I had betrayed her trust and confidence. As much as it hurt to be shut down, I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

And just like that, another notion surfaced. Therefore, I took my time, thinking about my new idea. So much so that I stayed another hour at my grandfather’s side, sitting and pondering as to how to go about it without sounding absurd. It was hard to decipher my feelings, truly. It was as if something had clicked inside me and nothing had been the same since. All I knew was that I wanted this new kind of happiness for me and Sienna, and at the same time, to fulfill this heavy void that filled my heart ever since my parents had died in an avalanche in the Swiss Alps.

Whatever the outcome of this, I knew disappointment wasn’t far behind to remind me that sometimes, no matter how much you love or hope or dream or obsess about one thing, having the means wasn’t simply enough to accomplish the impossible.

Shock Value

Sienna

I was in the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of sparkling water, when Blake strode into the room, seeming less tense since I saw him last. Cautiously sipping my drink, my eyes never left him. Even in these odd conditions, my appreciation of his dark, commanding beauty still hadn’t escaped me.

He was all male and exuded the kind of aura that demanded attention and power. It easily came without lifting a finger or saying a word, making everyone jump to attention. He simply had been born with this outstanding kind of confidence I admired and envied most of the time.

“May I have a word?” he spoke, breaking my trance-like fascination of his handsomeness.

“Why do you need to be so formal? We’re in the kitchen for crying out loud. Word away, my dearest husband.” I meant to lighten the mood, but he didn’t even crack a smile.

He’s still mad then, I assumed with a sinking feeling in my gut.

“After you left, I began thinking… rather extensively, I might add.” He was terse, and even though he seemed composed, the locking of his jaw was an indication he was under a lot of stress because of yours truly.

So this was about the baby again.

“Go on,” I said, beyond exhausted about this damned, infuriating subject. Why couldn’t he just leave it be? Why, oh why, couldn’t he just get over it? This conversation wasn’t going to end well because my answer was still a resounding no.

“How about surrogacy? The same conditions apply—you can do as you please and I’d still take care of the baby.”

“Surrogacy?” Was he fucking with me?

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