"Aren't you going to talk to him?" My mother asked me as I aggressively chopped the onions into bulky pieces.

It had been about ten minutes since Tristan walked into my home and immediately made himself comfortable. I mean, look at him, he was sitting on my living room couch, legs crossed over the other, sipping the expensive bottle of wine my mother had opened for him, and note she never opened expensive wine for just anyone.

"He's been sitting alone for a long time, I'm sure he's bored."

"I have nothing to say to him," I told her, lips thinned. The audacity he had coming into my home! What the hell did he think he could achieve by doing this? Did he think I would take him back if he peradventure got close to my mother?

Nonsense. Utter nonsense.

I cut the onions more aggressively, feeling my eyes start to water with tears that I didn't know if it came from the onions or my conflicted feelings.

"For an American, he is such a spunk," my mother went on, not at all helping to soothe my dilemma. "Do you think he will be interested in me?"

I nearly chopped my fingers off as her words threw me off balance. "Mum!" I turned to snap at her, my stomach churning with disgust as the terrible image of Tristan becoming my father number five surfaced in my head. God no. Never. Ew.

She laughed heartily beside me. "It's a joke, honey, I am done with men." She tapped my shoulder. "He's all yours."

I rolled my eyes and resumed chopping, albeit revealed that I would not be getting a new dad because I might love my mother dearly but her taste in men was still very much questionable. "I don't want him."

"But he certainly wants you, now doesn't he?"

I groaned. "He does not."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe." She leaned over the island, her deep eyes on me. "That young man flew all the way from America to Australia just to see you."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. "Well, I don't care if he did."

She looked at me curiously. "Are you two fighting?"

I stopped cutting and exhaled a weary breath. "It's complicated."

"Well then, make it less complicated because I don't understand why you kept him a secret from me for so long. If you'd told me you had a man interested in you, I wouldn't have reached out to Mrs. Lee."

I sighed. "I didn't tell you because he was not important and he still isn't."

"What exactly is going on, Sienna?" She asked, her concerned eyes imploring me to answer her question. "What did that man do to you?"

Damn it.

I took in a breath. "It's all just confusing okay, he says he wants me and wants to date me or whatever but I don't believe him."

She arched one eyebrow. "And why don't you believe him?"

"Because he hurt m—" I snapped my lips shut before I could tell her about the real Tristan. If I broke the NDA, I would get sued. "He broke my heart once." I settled, hoping she bought it.

She did.

Her eyes softened and she nodded in understanding. "I see. So you're confused about the boy and angry because he broke your heart once. How old is he by the way?"

I resumed cutting and turned away from her when I said. "Thirty...five."

She paused, blanched, and blinked. "Well, that is certainly a big gap." She blinked again. "But it's nothing to worry too much about as long as he cherishes you. Has he been married before?"

With a slight shake of my head, I replied. "No." He hated women.

"Perfect. What does he do, where does he work?"

"He's a billionaire." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Crap.

Her mouth popped open and she stared at me, eyes wide, as if trying to process what she had heard. And then. "Knock me down with a feather! He's a billionaire!" My mother gushed in shock and I immediately covered her mouth in panic.

"Shhhh!" I hissed, looking desperately at the closed kitchen door. "He might hear us!"

She nodded, her eyes still wide and gleaming with shock. I took my hand off her mouth slowly.

"Yes he's a billionaire but that changes nothing, okay."

"A billionaire?!" She said in sotto voce, her eyes bound with befuddlement. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Christ, I would've given him the grandest wine. Woah!" She fanned her face with her hand. "A billionaire is interested in my daughter, holy Mary, I must be dreaming. Is this a dream?" She placed her hand in front of me. "Pinch me, honey, I think I'm dreaming. Oh wait no!" She withdrew her hand. "Don't pinch me, I don't want to wake. This is marvelous!"

I frowned in affrontation. "It's not a dream mum, and again, him being a billionaire changes nothing, I don't want him, I don't trust his motives."

She rolled her eyes childishly and waved her hand, brushing off my judgment. "You're talking like a child, Sienna. Yes he broke your heart and tho I am not happy about it, and might have to have a word with him about it but no human is above mistakes, that's how we learn to be better. He's clearly here to make up for his mistake." She placed a hand on my shoulder and tapped me soothingly. "I understand you don't trust his motives but come on, he is a rich man and rich men often have bulky workloads. That man in there dropped everything and got on a plane to cross a whole continent just to be with you. I don't think he would do that if he wasn't genuinely apologetic."

I allowed her words to sink in. It was still a little bit shocking that Tristan had flown all the way here to see me but as much as I wanted to make myself believe that he had finally fallen for me, I was not that stupid. I dropped my knife and turned fully to my mother. "What do you want me to do? should I go back to him and disregard my hurt feelings?"

She shook her head. "No, no, honey." She held my shoulders, her eyes searching mine. "I would never advise you to do such a thing. I want you to be happy. Let me ask you. Do you feel something for him?"

Of course, I did. Tristan, as complicated and fucked up in the head as he was, was easy to love. "Maybe." I lied. "Just maybe."

"Well maybe can mean a lot in my world. It is still your choice whether or not you decide to take whatever he is offering but the only way to discover his motives is to air him. It's the only way you are going to sort out whatever it is you're feeling." She smiled sagely at me. "No matter how much you overanalyze and dissect his motives, you're never really going to prove yourself right until you give him another chance."

Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as I took a minute to ponder on what she had said. God, why did he have to make this more difficult by showing up?

"It's Thanksgiving. Why don't you go and serve our guest some pumpkin pie while I finish up with the turkey?" In her eyes, I knew she was giving me a choice; to go to him or to remain here where I was safe from his charms.

I stared at the pie sitting on the island and looked at my mother. Fuck this. I tugged my apron off, washed my hands underneath the sink, and scooped a piece of pie into the plate she held.

"That's my Leticia." She smiled, her eyes on me as I marched out of the kitchen and into the living room.

The entire floor smelt like him; so expensive and pleasing. He was still sitting on the couch, twirling his wine glass in his hand as he stared at something on his phone. I had to admit, he looked good in those casual clothes. A mere white T-shirt and dark blue denims—so simple yet his aura reeked the power of a man who knew his place in the world. 

His eyes once guarded, gleamed at the sight of me. He smiled, it was a fully natural one, mesmerizing enough to send bombs of a million sensations detonating in my stomach. "Sienna."

I ignored him and walked to place the plate on the coffee table. "Eat up and leave," I said and swiveled around, ready to leave. This was a bad idea, I couldn't do this. I couldn't stand in his grace and not fall.

"Wait."

His voice stopped me.

"Don't leave. I want us to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," I said, still looking away from him.

"We do, we need to talk about us, about our marriage."

I closed my eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. "Our marriage is fake and there is no us, so please eat up and leave because you don't belong here."

"You're wrong." I nearly jumped when I felt his warm and quick breath on my nape. When the hell did he get up? "I belong wherever you are and there is a chance for us."

A shiver moved through me. I made a move to step away but his hand stole around me and he wrenched my body to his. "Don't run from me please."

My heart thumped vigorously in my chest. I bit my lip to stop it from trembling. "Let me go, Tristan."

"Turn around and look at me."

I shook my head, hanging fiercely by the last thread of my self-control I had left because the sensation of having him so close was slowly starting to break my resolve all over again.

"Sienna..." He stepped closer, so much so that I could feel every hard part of his body. "Look at me."

Oh, God. I closed my eyes tight. "Why should I?"

"Because I need you to see me when I ask for your forgiveness again."

I pivoted in his arms, finally finding the courage to face him. "I don't need your apology all I need for you is to leave."

"The last thing I want to do is interrupt the feast you have with your mother but I can't leave, not until you agree to give me a chance."

I sighed, weary. "Tristan, why are you being difficult?"

"I am not trying to be difficult, I'm just trying to fight for what I want. I want to be with you, Sienna."

His words made my heart ache like an open scar. "You didn't seem like you wanted to the day I left." I accused brokenly.

"I was blind and stupid and I'm sorry." He grabbed my hand and placed it against his pacing chest. "See this, it's beating restlessly for you. I have been restless without you, Sienna. I am losing my sanity without you."

My breathing quickened. I pulled my hand away instantly. "My mum might step out any moment and misread this so please let me go."

He wrapped his arms around me tighter, imprisoning me to his chest, and there it was again, the familiar pull that singed through my veins and pulsed hot underneath my skin. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, Sienna, I'll be whatever you need me to be, just take me back."

"All I want is for you to leave." I didn't want him in my personal space. This was my home. I didn't want him here, blowing into my life and interrupting it. "Go back home."

"Home is where you are." He held me tighter to punctuate his words. "I can't leave."

My heart thundered in my chest. "We're not compatible. I feel nothing for you."

The way he looked at me...it was as though I had ripped his heart out with my words. Guilt course through me. I'm sorry Tristan but in order for me to believe it myself, I had to manifest it.

His jaw tightened. "You're lying. You feel something for me, last night you kissed me, it means something and no matter how hard you try to deny it, I know you're not over me yet." His words were so sure, filled with confidence, it irked me.

I lied again. "When I kissed you I felt nothing."

Voice tight, he said. "You're a bad liar."

"And you're a delusional fool, Tristan." I snapped. "So give it a rest because no matter what you do, I will feel nothing for you."

His eyes turned grim, burning with defeat. My words had hurt him. For a moment, we stared at each other, breathing slowly, both silent, and then, he let me go and took a step back from me, and just when I thought he was giving up, this proud arrogant man whom I had been married to deceitfully for six and a half months, sank down slowly on his knees right in front of me.

My stomach dropped, my blood froze, and my veins turned to ice. I took a step back from him. This sight...it did things to my heart that I couldn't explain with words. He was kneeling...for me..."W-what do you think you're doing?"

He looked up at me, eyes gleaming. "Go out with me."

God, not this again. "Get up," I demanded, ignoring his invitation.

"Say yes to me, to us, please."

My heart ached. I grabbed his hand and tried to haul him up. Useless, this man was as hard as a rock. "Get the hell up Tristan and face it, we're done."

He shook his head. "No we are not done, call me a delusional fool, I don't care, I know you still feel something for me, and I know you're lying because you want to stop feeling it but I won't let you get over me."

"Now you're not just delusional but you're mad."

"Yes I am mad I agree, I am mad and insane. I am on my freaking knees for a woman. I am out of my mind, Sienna and you're the reason."

Say yes.

My subconscious was back, nudging me.

No. No. No.

I shook my head. "Tristan, stop—" A shuffle echoed from the kitchen. My mother. My heart constricted. "Tristan, please get up now."

"Say yes to me, then I will. That is all I ask." The determination burning in his eyes made my soul quiver. "If in the next few days we have as a couple I can't make you take me back then I'll give you a divorce."

The sound of quiet footsteps gravitating toward the kitchen door resonated. Shit. My pulse sped up to match the loud thumping of my heart. Crap.

I was going to regret this.

"Fine!" I snapped. "Yes, fine, I'll go out with you, just please get up now."

His smile was heavy with satisfaction as he rose to his feet. He cradled my cheeks. "You're mine for the rest of the week, no objections, no questions asked."

The gentle command in his tone made my cheeks burn crimson red. Just as I was about to open my mouth and snap at him, the kitchen door swung open and my mother walked out, holding a metal serving tray.

"Who's hungry?"