Page 33 of Somehow You Knew

Gage and Hazel,

Congratulations, newlyweds! I have to say, as I write this letter, I’m hoping it’s not for nothing. But, if you’re reading it, then that means my proposition was persuading enough to make you go through with the marriage. Selfishly, I’m ecstatic about that prospect. But I also know you’ll need more incentive to give this a real shot, so there are a few more stipulations to the inheritance.

In the coming months, you’ll receive more letters from me. Each one will designate an activity you must complete in order to receive the money at the end of the six-month timeline. Documentation is a must, and everything must be submitted to Timothy upon completion. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you do anything crazy like skydiving.

But I do believe that in order to make a marriage work, you should be able to have fun with each other, speak candidly, and put trust in one another. After all, my hope is that the two of you realize how perfect you are for one another. Remember?

Don’t worry. This letter doesn’t contain anything for you to do yet. I figured I’d give you time to acclimate to your new normal before springing anything else on you just yet.

Love you both. Here’s to a lasting marriage.

Love,

Diane

Gage lets out a low groan, dragging a hand down his face. “This is just fucking perfect,” he mutters as he stalks to the fridge and yanks it open. “I need a drink.”

“All I have is wine.”

“I don’t even care right now.” He finds the bottle of chardonnay that I haven’t opened yet and shuts the fridge, immediately searching for a way to open it and finding the corkscrew in a nearby drawer.

I lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching him struggle to get the cork out of the bottle. “Do you need some help?”

He tosses the corkscrew on the counter and peers up at me, defeat written on his face. “Please.”

I pop the cork in two smooth moves and pour us each a glass. After Gage chugs his, he wipes his mouth, grimacing. “Fuck. How do you drink that shit?”

“First of all, wine isnotmeant to be chugged. And second, you don’t get to complain when I warned you this is all I have.”

I tap my glass against his empty one. “To Diane and her matchmaking schemes.”

Gage exhales through his nose, eyes flicking down to his drink. “She really wasn’t joking around, was she?”

“Nope. We should’ve known she had something else up her sleeve.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I can only imagine what she’s going to make us do.”

I tilt my head, considering. “Do you think it will be bad?”

Gage shrugs. “All I know is, if the money wasn’t on the line, I’d ask for an annulment right now.”

I scoff as I take another sip of wine. “Yeah, you and me both.”

Neither of us says anything for a few seconds, both still processing.

Gage exhales and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Well…guess I should go unpack.”

I nod, still caught up in my own thoughts. Diane’s letter just made one thing painfully clear—this isn’t going to be as easy as we thought. But the part I can’t stop wondering about?

Why was she so convinced we’d fall for each other?

It’s safe to say that whatever connection she believed we’d have was all in her head. Based on the way we already argue, there’s no way in hell any type of relationship between the two of us would ever work.

“Married for money, not love,” I repeat out loud to myself as I pour myself another glass of wine, remembering that the man freaking out in the other room is now myhusband, and there’s no going back from the choices that we made today.

The only way to get through this is to just keep pushing forward.

Chapter six

---