“Because, wife,”—he leans closer with that word—wife—lingering in the space between us—“you’re a clever girl. You wouldn’t jeopardize our agreement. Also…” He pauses and watches me. For a moment, it seems he’s not going to continue his explanation.
“Also, what?”
“You don’t like him anymore. You’ve outgrown the boy. Moved on to better things. Bettermen.”
I've never met anyone who could unravel me so completely and lay me bare with just his eyes and words. He’s clearly talking about himself, and I can’t even argue.
But he’s… right. Even I can’t refute that there’s something between us. That… fire.
“You sound like you think you know me.” I speak just to say something. Because the weight of his stare is pulling me under.
“I do know you, love.” He smirks. “And just so you know, if yourboysomehow manages to slip through the net like the worm he is and tries to pursuemy wife, I will destroy him.”
My throat goes dry, and my hands shake, but there's a treacherous flutter in my chest that I refuse to acknowledge. The threat should terrify me. Instead, it sends liquid fire racing through my veins, and I hate myself for it.
A flurry of laughter cuts into the moment, and we look across to see Adaline, Knox’s sister, and Louise, his stepmother, approaching us with Mom and Mia in tow.
“There they are,” Louise beams. She rushes up to me and gives me a hug. “You look absolutely beautiful, my dear.”
“Thank you.”
“Come, we’re having some light snacks before the family photos.”
I glance at Mom, who gives me a hopeful smile. Then I glance back at Knox. He’s already looking at me, his gaze sharp and consuming.
He only breaks contact when Adaline skips over to him and loops her arm through his.
We’re swept away, but his gaze finds me again, burning into me, stirring emotions I shouldn’t have for my temporary husband.
The rest of the day passes by in a whir of congratulations, clinking glasses, kisses and posing for the cameras. The wholeafternoon feels like a press event as reporters and journalists from various magazines and TV shows are given clearance to take our pictures.
Sometimes it feels like a performance. Sometimes not. Those are the parts that stay in my mind because I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not.
During our first dance, Knox's hand burns against my back, but we barely speak. Then we’re back to performing again, like actors hitting their marks during the dinner and speeches.
The activities slow down after. Thank God. I’ve wanted a chance to catch up with Mia and Mom all day.
I finally get a break when Knox goes off with his father and brothers to play poker with some of his father’s friends. However, my family and I get stuck with Louise and her friends, who want to hearallabout what Knox and I plan to do next.
Since I have no idea what that’s supposed to be, I talk about my excitement for going to Italy. Although I don’t know how that trip will pan out, I am genuinely excited about traveling. It’s been years since I was able to go anywhere.
Louise responds with fond memories of family trips to Europe, and it hits me then that I know nothing about Knox’s real mother. I’ve seen and spoken to Louise so much that my brain slot her in as his mom. Especially because she seems to love him as such.
Now that I’m thinking about it, no one at all has mentioned anything about Knox’s mother, and she hasn’t attended any of the events. Not the engagement party, nor the wedding.
It’s incredibly strange. I’m aware his parents are divorced, but that’s it. There wasn’t even much about her online.
It’s like she disappeared.
Still, I would have thought she’d be at her eldest child’s wedding.
Perhaps it’s one of those anomalies that happen in families that people aren’t supposed to talk about. That usually happens when someone does something bad and that thing becomes a secret. I’m curious now.
The conversation shifts to the summer brunch the Vales are hosting in a few weeks, and I spot Mia trying to catch my attention from across the table.
She cocks her head toward the garden, silently asking me if I’d like to go for a walk.
I nod, and we get up. Everyone, including our mothers, is so engrossed in the conversation, they hardly notice us leaving.
