Scarlett comes to the rescue again. She hands Selena a tissue. “Just don’t be your usual asshole self to her, Griffin. Save that for everyone else.”
I know nothing about the woman I just married, but I can see her strength. I know she's not motivated solely by money because she hasn't asked for a single lavish thing. I think her motivation is simply opportunity—she wants to be a lawyer. She wants to help the disadvantaged. Conversely, I look for loopholes to bind people into tight corners. We couldn't be more opposite.
I touch Selena’s knee. “I hate seeing you cry.”
She wipes her eyes. “I’m okay.”
“I’m going to make this good for you. I promise.”
I’m not sure how, but suddenly the desire to make her happy is overwhelming.
Beckett and I are recognized at the restaurant and seated immediately. The night is lovely, filled with drinks and delicious cuisine, but Selena barely touches her wine or her food. She says her stomach is still not right.
I know it’s nerves. She just married a monster.
We make it back home late. Scarlett and Selena talked for hours, both laughing and bonding. A text from Beckett confirms that a lifelong friendship has been born. I’m jealous, because she already loves Scarlett more than she’ll ever love me.
I help Selena out of her wedding dress in our bedroom. She is quiet.
“At least it’s over,” I offer, hoping to commiserate.
“Right,” she sighs. “So, what happens tomorrow?”
Usually, Sundays are for rest, but I have a meeting with the Christopher Street Society regarding real estate in rural Tennessee. I’m finalizing contracts to ensure we can operate discreetly without accountability. Just the thought of the work makes me feel grimy. If she knew what I really did for the CSS—the manipulation, the cover-ups—it would put even more distance between us.
I have explained to her that the CSS is a "boys' club" for charity. In reality, we control levers of power that most people don't know exist. We make inconvenient people disappear.
By marrying me, Selena is now at risk of being used against me. Carl Besheir will not stop coming for me.
I am a member by birth. The only way out of the Christopher Street Society is in a pine box. As I stare at Selena quietly rolling her pearl-white stockings down her shapely legs, I realize how much I’ve ruined her life.
“I think I’m just going to sleep tonight,” she says softly, changing into a thin nightgown. “Unless you expect that we...”
“No. I’m tired.” I always want to have sex with her, but I understand this isn’t her desire tonight.
She gets into bed and curls as far to her side as she can get. I finish undressing. When I slip under the covers, I hear the distinct sound of muffled weeping. Her body heaves slightly. She’s trying so hard to stay quiet.
I’m not a husband. It’s a role I don’t want to play, yet I find myself aching for her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask into the dark.
“No, thank you.” I hear the pain in her voice.
It’s almost too hard to fall asleep knowing how distressed she is, but eventually, I do.
I leave early the next morning while Selena is still sleeping. I text her to order breakfast from the chef and promise I’ll be home later.
I receive a one-word reply.
Ok.
Things aren’t right.
14
SELENA
The day after our wedding, Griffin was gone most of the day.
