Reunited with the Rebel Billionaire Page 5

  Then her hysterectomy. Her double mastectomy.

  So damn much to process.

  He wished he had someone to talk to for understanding it from a female’s perspective...but her mother and grandmother were gone, her aunt, too.

  The realization dawned on him. There were women in his family. Strong, spunky women who could help him win Fiona back.

  Because come hell or high water, he wasn’t giving up.

  Four

  If Fiona had to be in the middle of a fund-raiser crisis, she’d at least found some peace that the crisis was unfolding in the sunroom of their restored Victorian home. The presence of the garden stilled her frantic heart, reminded her to breathe.

  In a lot of ways, the sunroom had become her unofficial office. She came out here to think or to read old-fashioned paperback books from the library. She felt, in a manner of speaking, very turn of the century.

  She let her eyes rove above the half wall, her gaze pushing past the intricate wrought iron on the windows to the garden proper. Lush trees and bushes nestled against a winding brick paver path. Taking a moment to appreciate the view, she reorganized her thoughts.

  Sitting in an oversize wooden chair, she surveyed the table in front of her. It was a mess—iPads, laptops, cell phones and sticky notes littered the farmhouse-style table. She was up against a deadline for the next fund-raiser to step in with emergency help for the children’s oncology ward event since the other planner had had a heart attack. The concert hall she’d originally booked had backed out last minute due to a terrible fire. It hadn’t seemed very likely that the hall would be fully operational again in time, so she’d made a few calls and switched the location.

  Making this fund-raiser a success felt exceptionally personal. The proceeds from the event were going to cancer research. It was a cause she felt deeply about and she couldn’t bear to see the children’s event canceled or even postponed. Fiona did what she did best—she threw herself into her work.

  Fiona watched how Adelaide worked on the iPad, intensely focused on the screen in front of her. She was logging a lot of hours on Fiona’s project. It was even more impressive because Adelaide was in the process of launching her own sportswear line.

  “You have such a full plate of your own. I don’t know how to thank you for your help.” Fiona was truly humbled by Adelaide’s support, especially on the last two events. She’d stepped in, no questions asked.

  “Being a part of the Reynaud family gives great opportunities to effect change. You know how poor I was growing up. The thought that I could improve other people’s lives? I don’t take that opportunity lightly. I just haven’t figured out how I want to make my mark yet. So if you don’t mind, I’ll just hitch my philanthropic wagon to your star for now.” Turning away from the half wall, she smiled warmly at Fiona.

  “Then I’ll gratefully accept the help.”

  “Well, I trust you can help me plan my wedding. You have the best eye for things, Fiona,” Adelaide said, examining the way her engagement ring caught the sunlight, sparkling with the brilliance of the ocean on the sunniest of days.

  Fiona put on her best face, schooling her features into happiness, though such a task took some effort. She could feel the edges of her composure wobble under the pressure.

  “It is such a lovely ring, and you will be an even more beautiful bride.” Tucking a loose strand of wavy hair behind her ear, she gave her future sister-in-law the biggest smile she could manage. “Truly beautiful.”

  The light reflected off Adelaide’s ring paled in comparison to the emotion that lit her love-struck eyes and tugged pink into her cheeks.

  Her future sister-in-law began to chatter. And Fiona would have listened on, equally joyful, if she didn’t notice the text message that blipped across her screen.

  It was a courtesy reminder of her upcoming doctor’s appointment. They had results to give her and more tests to administer.

  Suddenly, despite the bright, airy nature of the sunroom, she felt claustrophobic. Anxiety wrapped her in a grip she didn’t know how to shake. An acute tingling sensation rippled through her arms, and the world felt farther away from her than it ever had before. Everything—her impending divorce, her uncertain health, the loss of family—crashed into her at once.

  She recognized that Adelaide was still talking, but the words were lost on her.

  Fiona must have looked as bad as she felt, because her future sister-in-law stopped talking.

  Setting aside her iPad, Adelaide pensively tipped her head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

  “Why would you ask that?” Fiona placed her cell phone facedown on the table. It was time to focus on tangible things, to push herself back into the present moment. Concentrating on Adelaide’s concerned words, Fiona let herself notice the warmth of the phone and the coolness of the table.

  “You just don’t seem like yourself.” Adelaide held up a hand. “Never mind. Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

  Fiona decided what the hell. She should dive in and be honest—or at least partially open. And yes, maybe she was acting out of fear, because Henri’s kiss had rocked her resolve to move on with her life. “It’s no secret in the family that Henri and I have had trouble. We’ve struggled with infertility. There’s more to it than that.”

  “I’m here if you want to talk.” Adelaide walked closer to her, lowering her voice, her southern accent full of earnest concern.

  “What happens if I’m not part of the family anymore? Your loyalties will be here, and I understand that.”

  “It’s that bad? You’re thinking about splitting up?” An edge of surprise hitched in Adelaide’s voice.

  It had been a giant mistake to say that much. The last thing Fiona wanted to do was burden anyone. It was suddenly clear that she wasn’t ready to discuss this, not with Adelaide. Now she had to refocus, get them back on track. Ignore the pain in her chest and move forward. That’s what she was best at, anyway. Moving forward. Stacking a few papers into perfect order, she inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and spoke.

  “Let’s focus on the party. I need to get through the next couple of weeks and salvage this event for the fund-raising dollars—and for the children in the hospital looking forward to their party.”

  “If that’s what you want.” Adelaide didn’t seem particularly convinced, but she also didn’t press her further.

  “This event is important to me. More so than the others.” Scrolling through a web page, she gestured at the band options. “I need it to be perfect. This disease has taken so much from so many families.” Not just other families. Her family. And now it threatened her, too. In a small voice, she added, “My mother died of cancer when I was young—my grandmother and aunt, too.”

  “I didn’t know.” Adelaide reached across to squeeze Fiona’s hand. “Apparently there are a lot of things I didn’t know and I’m so very sorry for your pain.”

  “Henri and I aren’t ready for people to know about the divorce until the end of the season, when the papers will be ready to be filed, but I’m thinking now we aren’t going to be able to wait that long. I imagine our secrets will be out in the public soon enough if the press gets wind of things.”

  “The lack of privacy is difficult.”

  “We’ve worked hard to keep things private.”

  “Perhaps too much so, from the sound of how little the family knows of what’s going on. Family can be a support system.” Adelaide patted her chest. “I consider myself part of your family.”

  “Thank you, but if we split...” She swallowed hard. “Most of my family is gone. I only have my father left and, well, we’re not close.” Since all of her friends were tied to Henri’s family and the football world, that left her facing a looming void.

  “Fiona, I’m here for you if you need me, regardless.”

&n
bsp; “I envy your career and independence. I need to find that for myself.”

  “What would you like to do with your life?”

  Fiona cheeks puffed out with the force of her sigh. “I’m an art major and I throw parties. If only I had an engineering degree to tack on to the end of that, I would be a hot commodity on the job market.”

  Before Adelaide had a chance to respond, Princess Erika stepped into the sunroom. She was Gervais’s beautiful Nordic fiancée. Her pale blond hair was gathered over one shoulder, intricately woven into a thick fishtail braid.

  “Sisters,” she said, rubbing her hand along her pregnant stomach. Her announcement—and engagement—had caught the whole family by surprise since the couple hadn’t known each other long. But their love was clear. “I rang the bell but you didn’t hear me. The cleaning lady let me in on her way out. What are we doing here and can I help? I am at loose ends until after the wedding, when I begin school. And of course newborn twins will keep me busy. The calm before the hurricane.”

  The hurricane? Erika had a way of twisting idioms that was endearing. Fiona would miss that and so many other things about this family she’d grown close to during her marriage.

  Adelaide shook her head. “Only you would think preparing for a wedding isn’t enough to keep a person busy.”

  The princess shrugged elegantly, wearing her impending motherhood with ease. Fiona swallowed down an ache that never quite went away. She’d had such plans for her life as a wife and mother. She’d wanted a family, a big family, unlike her solitary upbringing. Maybe Henri’s large family had been part of the allure, too.

  Regardless, there would be no family for her. It hurt that this woman got pregnant with twins without even trying while Fiona couldn’t bear a child no matter how hard every medical professional worked to bring about a different result. But that wasn’t the fault of anyone in this room.

  Fiona kept her gaze firmly off Erika’s stomach and on her face. “Thank you for your offer of help. We would love to have you keep us company.”

  “Does that mean you will share your beignets?” Erika said with a twinkle in her blue eyes. “I cannot get enough of them.”

  The lump in Fiona’s throat became unbearable. She loved these women...but it hurt. She knew it was selfish and small, but watching them get their fairy-tale endings just served as a reminder that she was far from having that. And Erika’s pregnancy was so difficult for her to watch.

  Tears burned as thoughts of lost dreams threatened her ability to hold it together. And she absolutely would not lose it in front of Henri’s family. Her pride was about all she had left.

  * * *

  Henri’s body ached from practice, but he still burned to talk to Fiona. So he did the sensible thing: he went to the sunroom. Her operation station, as he liked to call it.

  He turned the corner into the sunroom, only half surprised to see Adelaide and Erika working alongside Fiona. Adelaide, iPad in hand, pointed out something on the screen to Erika.

  Everything was under control. A smile tugged at his lips. It felt good to see some bit of normalcy in the house.

  Not until he saw the tears welling in Fiona’s sherry-colored eyes did he realize there was something truly wrong. She was on the verge of falling apart.

  In one swift motion, she grabbed her phone and opened the door to the garden. It rattled behind her as she walked into what she’d often called her landscaped haven.

  Every part of him screamed to life. He should follow her. Had to follow her. Feet moving of their own volition, he started toward the door.

  But something stopped him. What would he even say to her?

  It was time to call in reinforcements. With a heavy sigh, he sat in the chair by the table.

  “Ladies, I need your help. Adelaide, can I count on you for some assistance?”

  “The party is well in hand. Your wife is a masterful organizer.” Adelaide gestured to the scattered papers on the desk. Each stack was color coordinated with sticky notes.

  Tapping his fingers on the desk, he looked up at her. “My wife and I are going through, a, uh, rough patch. I could use some ideas for bringing romance back to the marriage.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that,” she said with undeniable sympathy. But he could see she wasn’t surprised.

  How had she known? Had she sensed it? Or had Fiona said something?

  Erika clasped her hands. “Of course we are willing to help however we can. You and Fiona are my family too now.”

  “Thank you. I mean that. I’m hoping you can offer some advice, ideas.”

  Adelaide eyed him curiously. “What kind of time frame are you looking at?”

  “I need to move quickly. Fiona is...not happy.” That was an understatement. If he could just find a direction to go in. Some clue.

  Erika scrutinized him with a sharp look. “Should you be speaking with her about this?”

  “Never mind.” He shook his head and turned on his heels. “Forget I asked.”

  Erika called out, “Wait. I did not mean to chase you away. I am happy to share what I can, although I do not know her well. You want your marriage to work, yes?”

  “I do.”

  Adelaide ticked off ideas as if she was running through one of her iPad checklists. “Help her remember that you appreciate her, that you still desire her. Don’t assume she knows. And remind her of the reasons you got married in the first place.”

  He heard her and felt as though he’d already done as much. Of course he’d put Adelaide and Erika on the spot, since they didn’t really know the depth of the problems. He was asking them to shoot in the dark. But he and Fiona had guarded their privacy so intensely and now he couldn’t share without making her feel betrayed.

  Maybe there was a way around it without telling them everything. He and Fiona needed to get back to the early days of their marriage. Back to fun and laughter. Yes, the romance he’d mentioned. Fiona had a point that they hadn’t dated long.

  They’d gotten married because they thought she was pregnant, and it turned out to be a false alarm. They’d both wanted kids so much they’d focused on that goal—until suddenly surviving surgeries became their whole life. “Let’s just say we’ve fallen into a routine and this old married man needs some concrete dating ideas.”

  Erika leaned forward, expression wise and intense. “That is very dear of you.”

  Adelaide quirked an eyebrow. “And to think America’s hottest athlete is asking me for dating advice.”

  He spread his hands. “I’m all ears.”

  And he was. Because the thought of returning his marriage to the early days, before life grew complicated, had never sounded more appealing.

  * * *

  On her hands and knees, Fiona rooted around the flower bed, decompressing after a restless night with little sleep. Henri had locked himself in his study last night after her future sisters-in-law left. God, the man was full of mixed signals.

  She carefully separated the butterfly ginger plants from the aggressive weeds that threatened them. The butterfly ginger was a sweet plant, and the invasive species that shared the flower bed threatened to snuff them out completely. She’d made a habit of maintaining balance in the garden. It provided her a sense of peace.

  Especially these days.

  She was so fixated on the weeds in the flower bed she barely registered the sound of footsteps on the brick pavers. Casting a glance over her right shoulder, her gaze homed right on the muscled form of Henri approaching. His lips were in a thin line, strain wearing on his face as he went underneath the ivy-wrapped arbor, passing the golden wonder tree and the forsythia sage plants. He still looked like the man she fell in love with and married three years ago.

  And that was what hurt the most. She was broken, in her heart, unable to let him or anyone get cl
ose. She didn’t know how to push past the icy fear.

  Henri said nothing. He simply knelt next to her and started helping her. As they sat in silence, the woody scent of him filled her head with memories, each more painful than the last. Of what they were in the beginning. Of when things were good. Of how terrible things were now.

  “I think it’s time we surrender to the inevitable.” Her heart was pounding so hard and fast, she thought it would shake her to pieces.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice raspy.

  “Seriously? You have to know. But if you can’t bring yourself to say it, I will. Our marriage is over.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “You’re wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Tell me why I’m wrong.”

  “Because we got married. We said till...um, forever.” He yanked a weed out of the ground.

  “You can’t even say the word. Death. I’m not dying. You don’t have to feel guilty over walking away.”

  Frustration crept into his features, hardening his face. He tossed a weed on the ground. “Dammit, that’s not at all what I said.”

  “But I can hear it in your voice. You feel protective, and that’s not enough for us to build a life together.” She shook her head. He had to see what was going on.

  “We got married because we loved each other.”

  “We got married because we thought I was pregnant and we were infatuated with great sex. It was a whirlwind romance. We didn’t know each other well enough before trouble hit. We’re not okay and we never will be.”

  “I’ll go back to the marriage counselor. I’ll listen. I wasn’t ready then. I am now.”

  “Thank you, but no. I’ve had enough.” She couldn’t stay and have her heart continually fracture and break.