“That’s not evidence.”
“It’s absolutely evidence,” Dex says. “Your Honor, Exhibit A.”
Colby points at Dex. “Stop talking.”
But the word sticks.
Married.
I stare at the tile floor like it just betrayed me.
Married.
Visible stability.
Public commitment.
No ambiguity.
The guys keep talking.
Mason is back to chirping.
“Who would even say yes?” he asks. “You’d need someone sane. Which eliminates most of Nashville.”
Dex grins. “We could run auditions. ‘Wanted: emotionally stable woman willing to marry professional athlete for legal optics.’”
“Add dental,” Bryce says.
“Add patience,” Eli adds.
I tune them out.
Because I’m already running through names in my head.
And none of them work.
Not random dates.
Not someone from a charity gala.
Not a PR arrangement.
Not someone who wants cameras.
I need someone steady.
Someone Maddie already trusts.
Someone who won’t panic when this gets messy.
Someone who won’t treat this like a headline.
Natalie surfaces.
Not like lightning.
Like logic.
