Page 85 of Dice & Dekes

Knight clears his throat. “I’m sure you all have a lot to discuss, so I’m going to just grab this pastry and…”

“Sit your ass down,” Cash barks.

“Me?” Knight presses his hand to his chest and tries to look innocent. It doesn’t work for him any more than it’s ever worked for me. These people know us too well. “What did I do?”

Cash glares at him. Actually, that might just be Cash’s face. He’s not a big smiler. “You sent your friend to the ER and made me hate him for about a dozen years.”

Knight shoots his sister a reproachful look. “That was supposed to be a secret.” He sits down on the couch and snags a cheese Danish. I’ve never seen anyone chew so sulkily.

The parents shuffle around for a few minutes. Since I’m taking up so much of the couch, and I’m not exactly portable, some of the living room furniture has to be moved in order to make space for the dining room chairs. Eventually, we all circle up, coffee is dispensed onto mugs, and plates are retrieved from the kitchen. I was prepared for them to be furious, but they seem to be more focused on making sure that everyone’s comfortable than on yelling at us.

When they’re all finally settled, Cash spreads his legs, braces his palms on his knees, and turns to me. “I really need to hand it to you, Viktor. You could’ve thrown Knight under the bus the minute I started giving you a hard time. Instead, you showed great loyalty and integrity. These are qualities I value in the man married to my daughter.”

I blink, sure I’ve slipped into a concussion-fueled fever dream. Cash Hale—my mortal enemy since 2018—just complimented me? On my character? Is this a trap? Am I being punked? I glance at Knova for confirmation, but she looks just as shocked as I feel.

“Oh. Um. Thanks?” I’ll be honest, that’s not what I was expecting. Knova has frozen with her pastry raised halfway to her open mouth.

Mom plays with the frayed ends at the tip of her braid. “We’re happy for you. Really, we are. But I just don’t understand how you two could go off and get married without inviting us! Do you have any idea how it feels…”

I hunch my shoulders toward my ears. “Mom, not the nipples again. Please.”

To either side of me, Knight and Knova snicker.

“Nipples?” Mom looks utterly perplexed by this apparent shift in topic. Whoops. “I was going to ask if you have any idea how it feels to have someone you love keep such a huge secret. Why didn’t you feel like you could tell us?”

Kingsley reaches across the table to take Mom’s hand. “It’s not easy, is it? Watching your kids grow up and make decisions you’re not part of. Even when they’re good ones. Even when they’re happy.” She squeezes. “It doesn’t mean they don’t love us. It just means they’re learning how to love someone else, too.”

Knova and I exchange a look. She nods once, decisively. We’re in this together. I stick with the truth. “Because it was an accident. It happened after the season kick-off party. Dante wanted to bring back the magic with a team wedding. He was going to use it in some publicity campaign.”

Dad leans forward in his chair. “Are you saying that Dante forced you into a fake marriage for publicity’s sake? And then, what? Insisted that you stay married?”

“If that were the case, why keep it secret?” Kingsley asks, though she seems to have directed her question to Noah rather than to us.

“It’s not like that. Dante’s crew grabbed the wrong twin, and we—”

Knova jumps in to explain, “We’d had just a bit too much tequila.”

Literally none of our parents seem surprised by this, although Cash is back to giving me the stink-eye.

“We were going to get it annulled,” Knova says.

Cash grunts. “Were. Past tense?”

I, too, have taken note of Knova’s phrasing. My damn hopeful heart aches as I wait for her explanation.

Knova huffs and flips her hair out of her face. “I was planning to have this conversation in private, but I guess now’s as good a time as any.” She twists against the cushions until she’s facing me, though we have to hold our legs funny to make sure we both fit. I wouldn’t mind if she tangled her legs with mine, except for a) parents, and b) my busted ankle. “Viktor. I want to stay married.”

“You do?” I almost flip off the couch in my excitement. “Because I would love that. I love you.”

I mean it with everything I’ve got. Not just the easy parts—her strength, her swagger, the way she yells at me when I deserve it—but the hard stuff, too. The walls. The silence. The fear. I love all of it. All of her.

“I…” Knova’s cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. In general, she’s not what I’d call delicate, but the way she reaches for my hand is almost tentative, and it makes me want to kiss her until her head spins. “I love you, too.”

I don’t care that Knight’s there, or that our parents are watching. I don’t care that I’m hurt, or that we’ll have to resolve this with Dante at some point, or that I’m about to have fifty awkward conversations in the near future, all of which will start with something along the lines of “Hey, funny story, so I’ve kind of been married for almost two months, and I’m just mentioning it now…”

None of that matters, because Knova just told me she loves me. She. Loves. Me.

For the first time in my entire stupid, messy life, I don’t feel like I’m chasing something. I’m standing still. And she’s going to stay.

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