Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

But isn’t he the same man who gave you that rhinestone daisy hair clip? A piece of jewelry that was the greatest expression of love between your parents?

He never used the word love.

Right now, I feel like a three-headed monster. My two inner voices clamor for attention, each with its own argument, until it all becomes too much and a fresh headache blooms.

“Enough.”

I shut off the water and step out of the shower, only to realize that none of my toiletries are here. For the first time since arriving in this house, I’m not sharing the same space as Charles.

My eyes close, and memories from just a few hours ago flood my mind. While getting ready for the event, Charles and I were in perfect sync. I brushed my teeth while he shaved at the sink. As I applied makeup, he stood behind me, tying his tie and casting smoldering glances my way. He zipped up my dress as I adjusted his pocket square. We looked every bit the perfect couple, ready for an amazing evening and looking forward to a memorable night.

But that was all an illusion.

It’s my mistake that I forgot the reality of our marriage.

I’m here on a job, and hiding out in the guest room isn’t just childish—it’s jeopardizing everything Charles and I have worked for.

I slip on a bathrobe and leave the bathroom, but my legs hesitate to carry me to the door. It’s a dance of one step forward, two steps back, until I finally sink onto the bed.

I’ll worry about the world and Charles tomorrow.

Turning from one side to the other, something feels off. The Egyptian cotton sheets scratch against my skin, as though this is the most uncomfortable bed I’ve ever slept in.

How did everything shift so drastically in such a short time?

Before our marriage, I used to hate thinking about Charles more than necessary, but now when he’s not near me, I miss him like he’s a soldier away on deployment and I’m the wife who hasn’t seen her husband in months.

When I finally fall asleep, I dream about seahorses. In their world, the male seahorse carries the eggs until they hatch. If any father has a right to complain about babies being too much work, it should be a seahorse dad.

The bed dips beside me and I whisper, “Don’t disturb the dad.”

“Hush, go back to sleep,” he whispers, enfolding me in his arms.

My heart flutters with the realization that this isn’t a dream. He’s come to me after an argument. “Charles? What are you doing here?”

In this simple gesture lies the answer to why his words cut me so deep.

Beneath Charles’ unyielding, invincible businessman exterior beats a heart full of worry, care, fear, and love—all human emotions, even when he wants everyone to believe he’s some sort of robot.

“The bed feels too big and too empty without you,” he murmurs against my hair. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Daisy. I’m sorry for everything I said. Fuck, how did I not know about your parents?”

I turn toward him, my face brushing against the curve of his neck. He holds me so tightly, as if afraid I’ll slip away again.

If only he knew how hard these few hours have been for me.

“I don’t often talk about it,” I confess, wanting to share a part of my past with him. “I was Daisy Hazy Price, daughter of Jason and Penny Price. I couldn’t have asked for more loving parents. I may not have been born in their house, but it was always my home.”

Charles strokes my hair, and I lean into his soft touch.

“Within a year of my arrival, Mom and Dad made sure everything around me felt like mine. My drawings hung up on the fridge, clinging to magnets from our various trips. They replaced all the photos of just the two of them with ones including me in every corner. Honestly, most of the time I forget I don’t share the same genetics as my parents. But then moments like these, when I meet kids like me, I’m reminded of a part of my life I’ve unconsciously forgotten. I realize how fortunate I am to have such parents.” My throat tightens, and Charles kisses the top of my head.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I know words will never be enough for all the nonsense I said and did tonight, but please accept my apology.”

My head rests against his heart, which always seems to beat a little too fast.

Is it only when I’m around him, or is it always like this?

“You hate kids, don’t you?”