My wife.
I shut down that line of thinking immediately. Hard stop. Full mental emergency brake.
This was not a game. This was not an experiment. And I absolutely could not afford to be thinking about how it felt when Ledger Hayes acted like I belonged to him.
It was messing with me more than it should. And it was confusing in a way I didn’t have time for.
A beat passed.
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah. That’s a pretty big oversight.”
I shrugged. “We were a little busy panicking and signing paperwork.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess we can’t exactly show up and say we’re trying a minimalist approach to marriage.”
“Especially not to my mother.”
He straightened. “Okay. So. Rings before brunch.”
I watched him process it, watched the way he didn’t immediately look for an out, didn’t suggest I go alone or handle it myself. He just accepted it as part of the plan.
Which was unsettling in a way I didn’t want to unpack.
“And,” I added, bracing myself, “she’ll want to know what I’m doing now that the trust is unlocked.”
Ledger’s expression softened. “You don’t have to justify anything.”
I laughed, short and humorless. “Tell that to her.”
“I’m serious, Roxie.”
I waved him off and turned back to the counter, setting down my water. “I know. But she won’t see it that way. To her, money is a roadmap. It’s not supposed to buy time or freedom—it’s supposed to funnel you into therightlife.”
“And you didn’t follow the route.”
“Nope. Took a hard left just before ‘marry a rich guy and host charity luncheons.’”
He smiled faintly. “Reckless.”
I snorted. “You have no idea.”
There was a pause, and then he said, “What do you want to tell her?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You said she’s going to ask what you’re doing now. What doyouwant the answer to be?”
I hesitated.
Because the truth was, I didn’t have a polished answer yet. I had ideas—half formed, buzzing, excitingin a way that scared me—but nothing concrete. And my mother didn’t do well with things that weren’t concrete.
“I work as a social media content creator for a home-goods brand,” I said slowly. “But that’s not all I want.”
“What else?”
The question was gentle. Not prying or skeptical. Just open.
And somehow that made it harder.
