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Nia doesn’t answer. She’s worried. That I’m here to call it off? Or that she wants to end it and doesn’t know how to tell me?

“We’ll be fine,” I assure my brother’s wife as I nudge her aside and head straight for Nia.

“Call me if you need⁠—”

“Thanks,” I assure Keeley. “I appreciate it. I’ve got it from here.”

Well, I’m trying to. My palms are sweating. My throat begins to clamp tight. I catch sight of Nia’s wedding dress hanging from the bathroom door. I can’t see details since the room is shadowy and the white confection is shrouded by its protective plastic bag. But I’m not here for a sneak peek. I’m here purely to work out everything between me and Nia.

I shut the door and turn to her.

Her heart seems to stop. “What’s wrong?”

Shit. Where do I start? What do I say? “I…”

The sight of a manila folder on her nightstand catches my attention. The prenuptial agreement.

“Did you sign that?” I ask.

If she divorces me in the first ten years of our marriage, all the assets and possessions I brought into the union belong to me. She’ll walk away with nothing but child support. If I end the union at any time, she’s entitled to half of everything. The agreement is practical. My attorney insisted on it.

Right now, I’m finding it distasteful and divisive.

Nia swallows, bristling. “I said I would and I did. Look, if you’re having second thoughts⁠—”

“Not about marrying you, no. About everything you’re thinking? Yes. We need to clear up a few things. First, that document isn’t… That’s not how I feel.”

As I storm across the room and pluck the paper from its folder, she gapes at me. A quick scan assures me she’s signed and dated it, as promised.

“Does this bother you?”

Nia doesn’t answer right away. “I know it shouldn’t.”

“But it does.”

“You’re entitled to protect yourself financially. In fact, you should.”

“If you think that, why does having a prenuptial upset you?”

She fidgets in the shadowy room. “In my head, if we’re building a future and spending the rest of our lives together, talking about the division of assets before we’ve spoken our vows feels like we’ve already given up.”

Exactly. “I’m never going to divorce you. And I don’t believe we’re making a mistake.”

Before she can say another word, I grasp the prenuptial paperwork in my hands and rip it in two.

“What are you doing?” She gapes at me.

I prowl toward her. Nia backs up a step. I come closer. She frowns and retreats again. I lunge for her. Her back hits the wall. I cage her in with a smile.

“Trying to make you happy. We’re going to have a marriage, not a business partnership. I want to be with you. And I trust you, the way I hope you trust me. The only piece of paper we need between us is the one legally declaring us man and wife.”

Nia blinks. “You’re willing to give up your financial protection simply to make a point?”

I gesture to the scraps of legal document. “I already did. For you.”

“Why? You went to a lot of trouble to⁠—”

“Have my attorney draw up the papers quickly? Yes. Now I wish I hadn’t bothered.” I swallow. “Nia, you probably know how I feel better than I do.”