Page 39 of Walkoff Wedding

He freezes for a moment before it registers, taken completely off guard by that revelation. But his anger is palpable as he directs his scorned gaze back to Addie.

“Bullshit. You’re marrying Dixon Barrilleaux in less than two weeks, and you know that.”

Addie stands straighter, lifting her chin slightly as she takes a long, deep breath and says, “No. I’m not.” When she pauses, she reaches for me, sliding her trembling hand in mine as if she needs the strength. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, and she continues. “I’ve been seeing Grant… in secret, for months now. W-We got married, and there’s nothing you can do about it, Brent. And I also know you lied, about everything. About the reasons you were forcing me into this marriage with Dixon, my mother’s will. All of it. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer, and I know the bakery is mine.”

Pride swells in my chest at how strong she sounds, even though I know she probably doesn’t feel it right now. I’m so fucking proud of her for standing up to him. For letting this asshole know he’s not going to control her for a second longer.

Brent’s entire face turns a crimson shade of red, and I’m waiting for him to fly off the handle when he truly lets what he’s heard sink in.

“You’re a stupid, spoiled little bitch, and over my dead body will you take that bakery from me.” Spittle flies from his mouth as he spews, the vein on his forehead bulging with each word.

That’s when the small semblance of control I have frays, turning the edges of my vision hazy with rage.

I step forward, our chests meeting as I shake my head and seethe. “Don’t fucking talk to my wife like that.”

“Your wife?” His laugh is quiet and menacing as he shakes his head over and over. “I hope you understand how badly you’ve fucked up, Addie. Secretly dating, my ass. You think I don’t know that this is a ruse? A way for you to cheat me out of what I’m owed and attempt to cheat the will. This is a sham. And I’ll fucking prove it before I ever let you have what’s rightfully mine.”

“The bakery has never been yours, Brent,” she whispers fiercely. “It was always my mother’s.”

“And who the fuck do you think has been taking care of it since she died, leaving me with the mess, huh? Who took care of you when you had no one? I did. This is the payment I fucking deserve. Payment that I fucking earned for dealing with this shit for years.”

Fucking prick. Fuck this, and fuck him.

“Addie, get in the truck. You’re not listening to this bullshit,” I tell her, keeping my gaze fixed on him in case he does something stupid and reacts.

She hesitates for only a split second, then walks to the truck and flings the door open but halts when he calls her name.

“You think you’re so smart. You’ve got it all figured out, huh? Except you didn’t account for the fact that I’m not walking away, and I’m going to prove that this marriage is bullshit and contest the will. I’ll have eyes everywhere, Addie. It won’t be hard to catch you in your lies. You’re not getting away with this. I’m warning you not to fuck with me.”

When his threat comes, I’m beyond fucking done with this asshole. Addie shouldn’t have to be subjected to this shit.

The hypocrisy of this man. He’s the one who’s been lying and manipulating her for who knows how long. Trying to force her into an equally fake marriage but for his benefit. She’s endured enough at his hands.

“Fuck you,” I spit. “I’m warning you. Stay the fuck away from my wife.”

chapter twelve

Grant

“This is a disaster. A literal disaster” are the first words out of Addie’s mouth the moment we walk through the front door of the apartment.

I watch as she paces the living room, chewing nervously on her nails, stopping every minute or so to suck in a shaky, uneven breath and run her fingers through her already mussed hair.

Part of me wants to go to her and attempt to calm her down, but the other part thinks that I should give her a second to work through whatever’s going through her head. If I didn’t already know that her stepdad is a piece of shit, I sure as fuck know now.

He fucked her over in every way that he could, and the hateful shit he just spewed was unacceptable. It’s clear from the conversation tonight that Addie’s best interest was never a concern to him; all he wanted was to be sure that he secured his future by manipulating and using her.

I’m still shaking with rage. My need to comfort her soon wins out. Closing the distance between us, I reach for her, halting the hole she’s currently pacing into the hardwood. Gently, my fingers circle her small wrist to still her, and she gazes up at me.

There’s hurt and outrage in her eyes. It’s written all over her face, and it makes me want to punch that fucker right in his smug, entitled face.

“Hey,” I whisper, lifting my fingers to her chin and grasping it between them. “Fuck him, Addie. He’ll never speak to you again if I have anything to do with it. He’s a narcissistic asshole who’s trying to scare you into submission. And we’re not going to let him.”

I’m not going to stand back and allow that to happen. I’m not going to let her do this alone. I’m going to support her every step of the way while we figure it out because I know how much Ever After means to her and how important it is for her mom’s legacy to live on.

Maybe our marriage isn’t real, but how much I care about her is, and I meant what I said when I told her we were in this together.

For better or worse.

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