“I’m closer to my cleaning lady than my father. In fact, I’m closer to his housekeeper than I am to him.” And that might have been an exaggeration, but she defied either of them to prove differently.
The psychiatrist gave her a concerned look. “Your lack of emotional intimacy with your one remaining parent is certainly something we can explore together.”
“Dr. Wilson, you are not and never will be my doctor. Now, if you two will excuse me.” She turned to leave the office.
“Madison!” her father barked.
She didn’t stop. He could leave whatever threat he wanted to make on her voice mail.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MADDIE WAS IN the parking garage when her phone rang. Vik’s ringtone.
She answered. “My father found out I was seeing a therapist.”
“I didn’t tell him.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
“Good.”
“I’m just...” Frustrated. Confused. Upset. “He wants to prove me incompetent to sign the papers giving Romi half my AIH shares.”
“I had n—”
“There’s something he didn’t think of, I bet,” she interrupted, not really hearing Vik.
“What is that?” Vik asked, sounding both cautious and concerned.
“If he gets a judge to say I wasn’t competent to sign those papers. I wasn’t competent to say my vows, either, and we aren’t married. What will that do his precious plans to marry me off to his heir?” she demanded.
Vik made a sound like a growl. “That is not going to happen.”
“I thought things were getting better with him.”
“They are.”
“If anyone has lost their mind it is him.”
“I agree.”
She nodded.
“Madison?”
“You’re on my side, right?” Vik wouldn’t support his mentor and friend in this, would he?
“Of course. You are my wife and you are staying that way.”
Because he wanted control of AIH. Because he wanted the future he planned with her. Right that second, Maddie wished desperately there was another, more emotionally compelling reason for Vik to insist their marriage stood in validity.
Love.
She needed her husband’s love. More than she wanted her father’s acceptance. A lot more.
She couldn’t really care less about Jeremy sliding back into old habits. However, suddenly the knowledge that the man she loved more than her own life appreciated her feelings but didn’t share them hurt in a way she couldn’t ignore.
“I need some time to think.”
“What? Madison, where are you? I will come to you.”
“No. I just...give me some time, Vik.” She ended the call and then turned off her phone.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even Romi.
Maddie got into her hybrid car—not exactly what an heiress might be expected to drive, but it was environmentally responsible—and drove to her favorite coffee shop/bookstore.
How was she going to live the rest of her life in love with her husband and knowing he didn’t reciprocate her feelings. She didn’t know if it was couldn’t or wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter.
Maddie hadn’t been to the coffee shop since before Perrygate, but she needed time to think and a place to do it in that Vik wouldn’t think to look.
She got her usual order and took it to her favorite table positioned between a book stack and the window. Since the lower half of the window was painted with a mural that looked like old leather volumes on bookshelves, no one would see her from the outside.
Not unless they got right up to the window and looked down.
Her thoughts whirled in a mass of contradicting voices and images as her coffee cooled in its cup, but one idea rose to the surface again and again.
Vik acted like a man in love.
He couldn’t get enough of her sexually. Maddie’s happiness was very important to him. Given a choice, he always opted to spend time with her rather than away from her. He wanted her to be the mother of his children.
Did the words really matter?
She’d been doing fine without them to this point. But being thrown back into Ruthlessville by her father had undercut Maddie’s sense of emotional security.
Did she really need Vik to admit he loved her for her to feel secure in her happiness with him?
She still had no answer to that question when she heard her name spoken in a masculine tone she’d never planned to hear again.
She looked up and frowned. “Go away, Perry.”
“You don’t take my calls or respond to my texts.”
He was surprised? “I blocked your number.”
“I figured that out.”
“You aren’t supposed to be talking to me.”