I looked down, surprised to find my knuckles white around the tumbler. I set it down, flexing my fingers.
“My parents were married for years before they divorced,” I said after a moment. “They hated each other. My father cheated constantly. My mother drank. They stayed together for appearances, for business connections, for tax benefits. Theynever loved each other. Not really. And my grandfather ruined Gram’s life when he left her.”
“So your sample size for marriage are two shitty examples, and you’ve decided the whole concept is invalid?” Kris asked. “That’s like eating two bad burritos and declaring all Mexican food is poison.”
“It’s not just my parents. Look around. Half of marriages end in divorce. The other half are just people too stubborn or too scared to admit they made a mistake.”
“Or,” Chance countered, “they’re people who found someone they genuinely want to build a life with. Who choose each other, every day, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
I didn’t have a response for that. The certainty in his voice made something twist uncomfortably in my chest.
“I have to call her,” I said abruptly, pulling out my phone.
“That’s probably not the best idea right now,” Morgan cautioned. “You’re upset, she’s upset. Give it some time.”
“How much time?” I demanded. “She thinks I’m a heartless asshole who used her for sex.”
“Well, did you?” Kris asked bluntly.
“No! It wasn’t like that. It was... good. She’s the easiest person to be around. I just… I wasn’t using her.”
“Well, it sounded like it,” Chance said.
I ran a hand through my hair, struggling to find the words. “I mean yes, she’s beautiful. And she calls me on my crap and doesn’t back down. She makes me laugh. She makes me think. She makes me want to be... better.”
The three of them exchanged looks that were far too knowing for my comfort.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing,” Kris said, poorly suppressing a smile. “Just listening to you not being in love.”
“Shut up.”
My phone buzzed in my hand, and my heart leapt embarrassingly, hoping it might be Anica. Instead, it was a text from Erika.
Checking in on the bride hunt. Any progress?
I stared at my phone for a long moment before taking a deep breath. The bet. The deadline. The whole reason I’d hired Anica in the first place.
“The bet is off,” I announced, setting down my phone and picking up the drink again.
“What?” Morgan blinked at me. “You’re giving up? Just like that?”
“I’m not giving up,” I corrected. “I’m acknowledging that it was a stupid idea from the start. You guys win. Congratulations. I’ll transfer the money today.”
“Hold on,” Chance held up his hand. “This isn’t about the money, Cal. It never was.”
“Then what was it about?” I challenged.
“It was about trying to prove to us your fucked up notion about love not existing. I think your exact words were that ‘love is a sham.’ You wanted to prove that it didn’t exist and that you could control everything, even something as unpredictable as relationships. That you could approach marriage like a business transaction and avoid getting hurt.”
I stared at him. “Yeah well?—”
“And now you’re walking away because you realized you can’t control how you feel about Anica, and it scares the shit out of you because you might actually be falling for her.”
“Free falling without a parachute, I’d say,” Kris added.
Shit. Were they right? I’d spent my entire adult life building walls, constructing a carefully controlled environment where I could dictate the terms of every interaction. And then Anicahad walked in, with her emergency kits and her judgmental eyebrows and her absolute refusal to be impressed by me, and those walls had started to crumble.
