Page 41 of Kings Fear No One
But the truth is, the ring couldn’t be less special; it couldn’t be more devoid of real meaning.
All Chosen Saints who were partnered off were forced to wear them.
Only the Leader was allowed to forgo his.
We were his for the taking if he chose to have us. I was the Leader’s wife just the same as I was Logan’s.
Things are somehow more complicated now. In the real world, we’re married but free to do as we please. We don’t have to stay together anymore.
Logan wants an annulment.
Heat spreads through my chest and climbs up my throat. It flushes onto my face, rendering the cool air from the ceiling fan useless. But I have to keep my act up; I already decided before I left the house that I would do what Mama and Grandma Renae call ‘keeping up appearances’.
“We’re trying to work everything out,” I say after a pause. “We’ve decided it’s for the best. We’ve become one flesh.”
Korine offers me a kind smile. Sydney’s reaction is a lot more cryptic. Her brows furrow, a studious vibe developing about her. Almost as if she senses something off.
I was never the best liar. Mama used to remind me that the Lord detests lying lips. Liars are never rewarded.
…but what if we really did make it? What if I can change his mind?
It started off forced, but what if we give it new meaning? What if we can erase the bad parts and make everything right again?
We finish the rest of our lunch before driving to the town shopping mall. Sydney and Korine help me pick out a few pieces for my limited wardrobe. Several sundresses, tanks, and denim shorts later, we browse a few other shops. Korine picks out a birthday gift for her mother, Sunny, and Sydney grabs us some frozen yogurt from a stand.
I return to the apartment with bags on my arms and a more genuine smile than I had earlier. Sydney and Korine wave before they drive off, and I head inside.
My spirits are higher. My earlier anxiety is gone.
Hope returns as an excitable beat of my heart.
I’m in such a great mood that I rush into the bedroom and change into one of my new dresses. The sundress Sydney’s lent me falls to the floor as I tug the thin-strapped flowery one over my head. I twist and turn in front of the mirror and fix up my hair. Lip gloss is the finishing touch.
After checking the time, I move into the kitchen to start on dinner. If I hurry, I’ll be able to have something ready when Logan walks through the door. He’s been getting home around six o’ clock the past few nights.
It’s been over a week since Logan went grocery shopping, so pickings are slim.
I work with what we’ve got. Thankfully, Mama taught me how to cook from an early age.
I whip up some chicken alfredo using the cutlets we have leftover paired with a hunk of parmesan cheese, heavy cream, and a garlic clove for the sauce.
Pasta is one of Logan’s favorites. I’ve noticed how he always keeps some kind of pasta on hand as one of his go-to meals.
As his wife, I’ll learn all of them. I’ll happily make them for him.
Six o’clock comes and goes.
The pasta waits on the stove. I’ve taken out the cutlery and plates.
These days, the sun’s staying out later into the evening. It’s minutes before eight when it’s finally setting.
The living room begins to darken. I slip closed the blinds and twist on the lights.
If he were to come home in the next few minutes, we could still have dinner at a reasonable hour. There’s still hope that he’ll make it.
After another hour, I resort to texting Logan:
Dinner’s waiting :)
