“And why are they over there and not on your hand,love?”
She arches a brow. “I’m in here. There are no reporters and no staff, just us. I don’t need to wear them.”
She faces the mirror again and runs her fingers through her hair, ignoring me.
“Put them back on.” I can’t restrain the firmness in my tone.
“No.” She doesn’t even look at me.
“Why the fuck not?” I let the door slam shut behind me as I stalk into the room.
“Because I don’t want to. And there is no need.”
Alright, that’s it. She’s working my last fucking nerve and doing a number on my dick in those barely-there clothes.
I march toward her and grab her arm, whirling her around to face me.
“Are you crazy? Let go of me.” She tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip.
“We’re dealing with this first.” I hold up Chad’s gift in her face and open it, so she can see the broach and the note inside.
Her eyes snap wide, and her skin pales. “When did Chad send that?” I don’t know what gets to me more, the enamored look in her eyes or the slither of longing in her voice.
“Earlier at the wedding.”
“Why am I only just getting this now?” She tries to reach for the box, but I move it away.
“Wrong question, love.” I laugh, sounding deranged. “You’re lucky you’re getting it at all. I could have tossed it in the trash, where it belongs.”
“Have you lost your damn mind? It’s a gift. Give it to me.”
“Fuck no.”
“What?” She gives me an incredulous glare.
“You think I’m going to let you have agiftfrom your ex with his note promising you’ll find each other again?” Saying it out loud fuels my rage. “What the actual fuck? This is not okay, Isla.”
“Maybe so, but you had no right to open it.”
“You’re my wife. I had every fucking right.”
She gives me a look like I’m insane and I just said something truly farfetched. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Loud and fucking clear. And I’ll tell you this, he’s not getting you back. Becauseyou. Are. Mine.”
“Knox—"
“No. Today is our wedding day.”
“The wedding wasn’t real.” She speaks slowly, every word hitting its mark. Every word pushing me further over the edge.
“Which part of it wasn’t real? Because I sure as fuck stood there with you at my side in front of a priest exchanging ourveryreal vows. Itwasreal, so you’re not going to have anything to do with that little shit.”
“You’re such a fucking hypocrite and an asshole,” she grates out, so angry she trembles. “I hate you.”
“Why?” I lean so close we’re sharing the same air. “Why do you hate me today?”
“Because it’s one rule for you and another for me!” she screams in my face, hands balled into tight fists. “It’s okay for you to sneak off with some woman in the middle of our wedding to do God knows what, while I’m supposed to just stand around and watch you. Then you treat me as if I did something wrong and seriously expect me not to hate you.”
