Page 31 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
Eloise shrugged a shoulder and avoided eye contact, and I felt like the bane of her existence as she opened a book and retreated into it rather than opening up to me.
We drove the rest of the way home in comfortable silence, Eloise absorbed in her reading and me trying to focus on the familiar rhythm of our evening routine rather than the complications multiplying around us.
The envelope was waiting on our front porch, propped against the door with my name written across it in formal script.
I recognized the Hawthorne Academy letterhead immediately and felt my stomach tighten.
"Go start your homework," I told Eloise as we entered the house. "I'll be up in a few minutes to check on you."
She nodded and headed upstairs, still carrying her book.
I waited until I heard her bedroom door close before opening the envelope.
The letter was brief and precisely worded, each sentence crafted to convey maximum legal threat with minimal emotion.
The board of trustees had initiated formal proceedings to challenge my inheritance claim.
My sisters had hired an attorney who was now working directly with the board to declare the marriage clause unenforceable and me unfit to lead the academy.
The lawyers contested my ability to lead, my desire to be in this role based on my reluctance to be a part of alumni events, and my sisters added in accusations about my withdrawing from family affairs—all of which were correct but not necessarily relevant.
And based on this documentation, they were expecting me to step in and begin duties as headmaster even before being officially married.
It felt overwhelming.
They wanted me to withdraw or provide the name of my bride to be or they would file legal action against me.
I had seventy-three days until my birthday.
The board meeting was scheduled for next Friday.
Eight days.
I read the letter twice, then set it on the kitchen counter and started dinner.
Eloise came downstairs as I was plating the pasta, chattering about her mathematics assignment and a book report she needed to finish by Thursday.
I listened with half my attention while the board's ultimatum circled through my thoughts.
After dinner, Eloise settled at the kitchen table with her homework while I cleaned dishes and tried to project normalcy.
She worked with concentration, occasionally asking for help with a vocabulary word or a math concept.
By eight o'clock, she had finished everything and was ready for bed.
I followed her upstairs and waited in the hallway while she brushed her teeth and changed into pajamas.
When she emerged from the bathroom, I walked her to her bedroom and pulled back the covers while she arranged her stuffed animals in their precise nightly configuration.
"Dad?" She looked up at me as I tucked the blanket around her shoulders. "Is Miss Quinn going to be okay?"
This confused me.
Sadie wasn't sick but Eloise seemed to think she was.
"Why do you ask?"
"She seemed sad yesterday. And she's never missed school before."
