Page 41 of Inconvenient Marriage
It was at that moment that I realized just how hard I tried for Eric.
My hand drops. I frown, disregarding the dresses in my closet. Then, with a spark of inspiration, I slam shut the closet door, dropping to my knees to grab the under-the-bed storage tote I shoved under there.
When I left Eric, my parents wanted me to move back home. I had a room there, right next to Miranda. Everything I abandoned when I becamehiswas still there. It could be like I never lost those years to him… but I couldn’t do it. As though I needed to prove to myself that I could stand on my own two feet—with my parents’ help, that is—I rented this apartment. I did go home and bring some of my old treasured belongings with me, including some of my favorite outfits that Eric used to sneer at if I tried wearing them around him.
Opening up the tote, I sift through the cotton and denim that smells faintly of another life. That belonged to a different Annaiese.
Soft t-shirts. Cut-off shorts. Blue jeans and leggings. Perfectly valid clothing for a woman in her early-to-mid twenties, and outfits I haven’t worn in years.
I grab a white tee, plus a pair of shorts. I don’t care that it’s the middle of April. Sebastien might ride around Harmony Heights on his bike, but every time he takes me out, he uses his flashy Porsche. There are seat warmers, so I’ll be fine, and wherever we go, I’m sure he’ll be wearing his leather jacket and devil-may-care grin.
Maybe it’s time I match my new husband instead of dressing for the man who never liked the real me.
I’m trembling a little as I get dressed. Instead of pinning my hair up, I brush it out, letting carelessly tousled waves fall down my back. I put on lipgloss and mascara, just enough to make my eyes pop. A spritz of perfume and some lotion to highlight my long, bare legs.
There.
For the first time in years I actually look likeme. I feel like me, too. And not a moment too soon since, just as I shove the storage tote back under my bed, there’s a knock at my front door.
I hurry to open it, to let Sebastien in. When I do, I found him leaning against the wall between my door and my neighbor’s. With his hands in his pockets, a soft half-smirk stunning on his features, it looks like he’s settled down, ready to wait.
But I’m ready, and I notice the instant he sees that I am.
That same half-smirk slowly disappears. His eyes drag from my bare legs to my short shorts, my t-shirt to the hesitant expression on my face, and he nods.
“Jesus Christ,” he grates out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Crap.
Heat suddenly floods my cheeks. “I… sorry. I didn’t know what you had in mind, but I shouldn’t have dressed down like?—”
“No,” he says firmly, stepping into my apartment, cupping my elbows to stop me from turning and bolting to my bedroom so that I can change. “This is perfect.”
I blink, biting down on my bottom lip. “Are you sure?”
An honest grin tugs on his lip. “You’re perfect.”
Well. If he says so.
He said ‘drinks’.For some reason, I got it in my head that he’d be taking me to the King’s Court. However, once I’m settled in his front seat, it doesn’t take long for me to realize that he’s going in the opposite direction—or that I’ve gone this way before myself.
Just in case, I ask, “Where are we going?”
“The Last Prayer.”
Oh.
When I don’t say anything in response to that, Sebastien glances over at me. “Problem?”
“No.”
Yes.
I’m being ridiculous. I should’ve known better. Taking me to the King’s Court would mean public acknowledgement in front of half the Owed. I shouldn’t even want that. It’ll get back to Ericin no time, and my three-week reprieve from his commands will be over like that. Even so… it would’ve been nice if Sebastien didn’t want to hide me like Eric did.
“I just thought you’d want to go somewhere more… familiar,” I say carefully.
His brows lift, seeing right through my care. “You mean the Court?”
