Page 20 of Tainted Tempos

Mav

I don’t know what the hell she wants.

Reign

Welcome to the club.

Jameson

Seriously. You can now sit at our table.

Levi

Neither of you is married yet.

Reign

Semantics.

Mav

That’s where you’re wrong, Reign. Marriage is a whole different ball game...

Jameson

Hang in there, brother.

I sighand drop my head back against the couch cushions. Our dinner reservation was ten minutes ago. Kimberly arranged for a center table at the hotel’s swankiest restaurant.

Where is my wife?

Good fucking question.

God, what was I thinking? Why did I think we could pull this off? Marriage isn’t the same as fake dating. It’s a commitment. It’s a legally binding contract.

It’s so much more than I bargained for.

“Mav?” Mckenna says, entering the living room.

I sit up and open my eyes. My chest aches. It physically throbs as I drink her in. God, she’s beautiful. Stunning.

Her hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail, and her makeup is subtle. She’s wearing a long, flowy dress with a slit up her thigh and strappy, flat sandals.

She’s unassuming and arresting all at once. She completely disarms me. Captivates me.

I don’t deserve her.

I clear my throat and force myself to stand. “Hey, you ready?”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she says softly.

“It’s no problem.” No use in starting an argument over an unchangeable outcome. No use in starting a conversation that won’t progress.

What’s the point of this? Why are we going through the motions when there’s no hope? Levi was right; it’s a lost cause.

All we’re doing is dragging things out.

Sure, we’ll go to dinner. We’ll make small talk. We’ll be polite and civil and boring as fuck. We’ll force smiles for a photographer. Then, we’ll return here, sleep, and pretend we’re not husband and wife.

---