Chapter 4

August POV

I walked into my house, kicking my shoes off as I closed the door gently behind me. The smell of fresh herbs wafted through my home, which could only mean one thing.

“Garrett,” I called.

My husband walked into the living room, a huge smile on his face. “You're back home,” he said, pulling me into his arms.

“Yes, I am,” I smiled at him. “What are you doing?”

“I promised you dinner,” he said.

Garrett was so nice to me. I still recall when I woke up, seeing him for the first time.

“Where am I?” I croak, my throat raw. It felt like my body had been out through the wringer, my head was on fire.

“Take it easy,” the man beside me got up, holding my hands softly. “You shouldn't make any sudden movements yet.”

I glared at him. “Who are you?”

His lips tipped up. “Its a miracle you are awake, August.”

August. Who was August?

“It's me, Garett. Your husband.”

That was so long now. I had grown to like Garett, even though he was still a stranger sometimes. He stayed with me throughout physical therapy, helping me become myself again.

He told me about my life, how he was the only one that was there for me when my parents died. Our wedding pictures, anniversary.

He was a good husband.

“You really didn't have to,” I said, pulling away from him.

“I did. I was skeptical when the therapist said you were fit to work but you know I would always support you through everything.”

I followed him into the kitchen. “So, how was the interview?”

I pulled out one of the island seats. “It was…interesting.”

“Come on, tell me all about it.”

“Well, um firstly it wasn't at some small bakery like I thought,” I snorted.

He stirred spaghetti into some pesto sauce. I always liked watching him cook for us.

“It was actually,” I bit my bottom lips, wondering if it was a good idea or not. “at Ginattoni enterprises.”

The ladle stopped moving. He was silent, his entire body rigid.

One second passed. Another. Another.

He dropped the ladle in the pot, and turned slowly. “Ginattoni enterprises?”

“Yes, can you believe it? I was shocked too when I found out—”

“No.”

I tilted my head backwards. “Excuse me?”

“You will not work there,” he said, and then turned back to the pot.

What should I do? “You cannot control where I work, Garrett?”

“I am not fully in support of you even working. I told you, if you need it, come work with me at my clinic.”

He was a psychotherapist. He had a lot of clients, which was why we were able to afford this house and two cars. “I don't want to see you at home, and then at work too.”

“Why not?” He turned back to the stove, stirring faster. “We have fun together, and it would be nice to have a woman's touch in the office. You know I always want to protect you.”

“Because we need to be alone sometimes,” I rolled my eyes, eyeing his grip on the wooden spoon.

“It's not a big deal, Garrett.”

“Do not be a fucking brat, August,” he snapped, throwing the ladle. The sauce spilled from the gas, slowly staining the kitchen floor.

I stared at the green pool, my mind shut. “Look what you made me do,” he hissed, bending down to grab a cloth.

I watched him dab it, my heart still racing from what he just did. “What…what was that, Garett?” I stammered.

“You should know. I have never asked you for anything else.”

Here we go with the manipulation again. Every single time, whenever I said or did something he did not like, he would remind me.

He was there for me.

He was the only one that has been there for me. Through therapy, through amnesia, he has stayed and loved me even when I did not recognize him.

“Please, Garret not tonight,” I groaned, getting up from the kitchen. Thankfully he doesn't follow me to the room.

I wanted to work. Being cooped up in this house all day long was draining, having to smile at Garett. We barely had cable, and there was only so many times I could reread the history of America again. I wanted people, friends if possible.

I started brushing my hair when I heard the door open behind me.

“I am sorry,” Garett said.

“Are you though?” I whispered. “I do not like how you spoke to me, either.”

“Yes,” he walked behind me, hugging me close. “I did not mean to lose my temper.”

I turned around, looking into his eyes. “Why don't you want me working there?”

“Which department exactly would you be working in? I just think it's dangerous, being around such opulence.”

If there was one thing I knew he hated, it was wealthy people, which was silly because I had a feeling most of his clients were.

“Well, it is just in the marketing department,” the lie slid out my tongue easily. “Just that I might be extra busy, because I would be an assistant to one of the heads of the department.”

“Was she the one who interviewed you?” His eyes narrowed, his hands tighter around my shoulders.

What was with all these questions? “Yes. Her name is Rebekah.”

“Her surname?”

“I…I don't know, Garrett,” I whispered. “She is just my boss.”

His shoulders relaxed. The tightness escaped from the corner of his eyes, his breath settling.

“I had no idea then. Still, I don't think it's a good choice.”

“I thought you said you'll always support me.”

He closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “I love you so much,August.”

He dragged me closer, stroking my hair, and he pressed a soft kiss against my temple.”I missed you today.”

I closed my eyes, soaking his words in.

“I just want to always have you close,” he muttered.

I nodded. Another day, I would tell him the truth, when I was sure he would not freak out by the fact I was working for one of the most eligible men in the city.

Somehow, I knew tomorrow wouldn't just be the first day I start work at Ginattoni enterprises.

Even if it began with a lie, I was looking forward to it.