Unspoken (22 page)

He nodded, pleased not only with the perspective she had but that she was willing to follow his lead and fill in more of the picture of what might work. It was a long way from a decision, but the picture was a useful step to reaching that decision. “We’ll tell the family there’s some money,” he said, “as they already know about the coins I’m selling for you. But we’ll leave the impression it’s in the millions. No one ever needs to know it starts with a
b
.”

Charlotte was toying with her ice cream. Bryce pushed back his chair. “Let’s shift this to the living room. Find your sketchbook, and I’ll bring in more coffee.”

“I don’t want people to know it’s not a normal marriage.”

Bryce put the ball game on pause. “It will be a normal marriage.”

Charlotte set aside her sketchbook. “We won’t be sleeping together.”

“That’s something that will make for some interesting conversations between us, but it will be none of anyone else’s business.”

He couldn’t read her expression, and he felt like he was stepping into quicksand. “It’s our marriage. We’ll do what makes sense to the two of us, and we’ll reach those decisions with
some kindness and patience behind the conversations. All I’m expecting out of marriage is what we have now plus another layer of more of the same—a friendship, we live together, and we figure out how to handle Fred’s estate in a way that makes sense to us. To the outside world, family and friends, it’s going to look like a content and happy marriage because that’s actually what it’s going to be.”

She got to her feet. Before she could start pacing, he reached for her hand to stop her. He stood, settled his arms around her, and linked them loosely behind her back. “Charlotte, listen. I’m not making any statements that imply I’m not interested in kissing you, holding you, and spending the night with you. I’d like all those things. But it’s not a destination you’re promising me or that I’m counting on to go with the fact we have a wedding. It’s simply an assumption on my part that fifty years is a long time, and we might flow from being friends to something more if that happens to be the shift we both want someday. It’s not an expectation. I’m going to honor what you want. You have my word that marriage isn’t going to change your freedom to decide.”

“It’s going to be awkward in public.”

“Not so awkward,” he reassured. “There will be lines you can depend on me to honor. I won’t kiss you in public unless you give me the sign it’s okay for me to do so. Something simple between us. You can spin your ring around. Someone teases us to kiss under the mistletoe, you’re going to get a hug and whisper that will probably make you blush, but I won’t kiss you unless you clear it first.

“I’m going to reach for your hand, because I like holding hands with you. I’ll put my arm around you and share your space, occasionally hug you, not unlike this. My family and friends are going to see that. They’ll see the affection, because that is easy to share. I’m marrying you because I want to, because
I care about you, because I asked you to marry me, and you said yes. I would be proud to have you as my wife, and people are going to clearly see that.”

“I don’t deserve that cover.”

“You’ll have it, Charlotte. We’ll be friends, good friends, but I’ll also be a good husband to you. I’ll protect your privacy, protect what is between us.”

He leaned back just enough to see her face. “Charlotte, a promise. I will never say the words ‘I love you’ in public before I’ve said them to you in private. And I’ll never say them to you in private until I can say them from the bottom of my heart. That day comes, I want you to believe me. I will not say the words lightly. But I’m not going to be pressuring you to move beyond where you are comfortable with me.

“There are only four people in our circle who know the will requires you to marry—Ellie and John, my father, and because he knows, my mother. It’s not something others need to know. My family and friends will simply assume we’re marrying because we love each other. I’ll handle any awkward situations that develop, smoothly get us out of them. That will be my job.”

Her hand settled flat against his chest. “You’re putting your family at risk.”

“I’m not going to live my life in fear of what might happen. We’re smart enough to take sensible precautions.” He nudged up her chin so she would look at him rather than the button on his shirt, saw the wariness in her eyes. “It’s okay to say yes.”

“I’m too scared to say yes.”

He tightened his hug just a fraction to acknowledge the soft words and then answered her fears by relaxing his hold and letting her step back. “Then maybe you should think about why you’re scared and let us deal with that.”

“Are you going to tell your family I’m Ruth Bazoni?”

He’d known the question was coming. He took his time on the answer. “My parents already know. I told my dad, he told my mom, and I had a long conversation with my mom a few days ago. She remembers you, Charlotte. Mrs. B, from your fifth grade class. The rest of the family will be your decision for if and when we tell them.”

“Mrs. B?” She looked startled at the news. “I hadn’t realized. It was your mom who encouraged me to draw. She used to put a smiley face on my papers when I turned in one where I had doodled in the margins.”

Bryce smiled. “That sounds like Mom.”

“When your family meets my sister, they’ll immediately put it together.”

“That day’s going to come when it does. But by then, they will know you as Charlotte. They’ll hurt for you, but they won’t see you as Ruth. And for the most part, they’ll forget, because it’s in the past.”

“I don’t want people to know for as long as possible.”

“Agreed. Would you want us to fly to New York and talk to your sister about this decision?”

“No. She’ll try to talk me out of it. And I would let her. It’s a conversation that has to come after the wedding.”

“I won’t let you have that conversation alone,” he promised.

She picked up her sketchbook but didn’t start drawing again. “Will you regret marrying me, thirty years from now when the money is gone?”

“No. When the money is gone, we’ll be just like every other couple who’s been married for thirty years. Older and wiser and good friends. The thirty years after that will be the easy years of the marriage.”

“You’re more optimistic about this than I am.”

He studied her face.
Jesus, what are the right words here?
I
can hear her doubts, see them, and I know fear is the emotion she’s feeling. I don’t think anything can remove that other than the experience of a good marriage.

“Charlotte, please trust me,” he finally said, trying to figure out how to sum up the conversation. “This will work. If I didn’t believe that, I’d be wise enough to say so. I don’t want fifty years of chaos for my life or for yours. I’m not asking you to marry me because of the money, while ignoring the rest of what would be our reality. I think we could have a good marriage if you want to say yes. That’s what I’m asking you to consider. I like the idea of being your husband. If you want to say yes to the money, I’m a safe choice. We would have a good life together.”

Charlotte unlocked the door to Ellie’s home, glad to have the difficult conversation behind her.

Ellie came to meet her. “You had a long evening.”

“An anything but a simple discussion.”

Ellie studied her face, started to smile. “It went well. You’re actually thinking about saying yes.”

“We squared the corners of the idea and talked about what it would look like. My mind is spinning.” Charlotte walked into the living room, picked up the pillows on the extra deep sofa and sank into it, hugging the cushions against her.

Ellie took a seat beside her. “How’s your heart?”

“Troubled. I’m not an arranged-marriage kind of woman, and that’s what I’m talking about having.”

“You’d run scared to death if he said ‘I love you.’”

She half smiled, acknowledging it was true. “I can maybe do the friendship he wants, Ellie, but he’s a businessman. He’s not an easy man to sync up with. John, I could pretty much always understand. Bryce—he’ll do a fine job with the money, and he’ll be a good husband because he’ll measure himself against
that phrase, but it feels—” she stopped because it hurt to say it aloud—“it feels like he’s taking me on as a job.”

“He doesn’t mean to leave that impression.”

“But it’s the truth of what is developing. He gets a wife who’s more like a houseguest than a wife, and a job of giving away the money. It isn’t worth this, Ellie.”

“Is being single any better? Honestly?”

Charlotte bit her lip. “No, it’s not great.”

“I’m not saying marry him. Just consider the picture of it. There are parts of not being alone that would make your life much better than it is today. What’s the downside?”

“Fifty years of disappointing him.”

“If he treated you like he does now for the next fifty years, would you be okay with the marriage?”

Charlotte didn’t answer for a long time. “Yes.”

“There’s also risk if you say no. You overworked in Texas, to the point John and I both worried about you. You were too alone in your day-to-day. I worry about you slipping back into that mode. The work that never ends. The sadness of saying no is going to be heavy. You’d be giving up not only the money, but a different life. One that I think could be better for you.”

“Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“How many times have you wished life had taken a different turn when you were sixteen?”

“Too many times to count.”

“Take this turn, Charlotte. He’s a nice man—in every way I can see—and you won’t be alone anymore. You don’t have to tell him about the past, you don’t have to even mention it. You can relax and just enjoy spending your present life with someone.”

“He referred to Mrs. B, and it clicked, the image of his mom. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I liked the idea of it being a good surprise you could encounter. He’s got a good family. You’ll like all of them. More
than anything I want you to be settled for the next decades of your life. You’ll fit in, you’ll have a place, and he’s the kind of guy you can trust. His kind doesn’t come around very often.”

“The money is prompting his offer.”

“Is it? I think the offer is prompted by the fact he wants you to have a real choice. He likes you, Charlotte. He doesn’t like the situation you’re in. He’s being just a bit of a white knight, trying to rescue you by offering to give you a choice. I think it says something nice about him.”

“He mentioned that his proposal and the money didn’t have to stay linked, that there wasn’t a reason he couldn’t ask me again after three years . . . which would take the money issue away. I don’t think he meant it as a serious idea to explore, but it was part of his original comments about this.”

“I think if you wanted to get married without the money, Charlotte, he’d be interested in having that conversation with you.” Ellie searched her face. “But I also believe he feels that however it has happened, that money is yours, and he can help you with it.”

“He could handle the money and do it well. Not many people I’ve met could do that.”

Ellie nodded. “I see the money, the giving it away, as something the two of you can work on together, the common ground you might need during the first few years of marriage. It will be a safe topic if you don’t know what else to talk about.” Ellie reached over to squeeze her hand. “Charlotte, what do you really lose if you say yes? If you can answer that question, maybe the decision will become more clear.”