Page 43 of Inconvenient Marriage
I wait another half an hour, playing some stupid game on my phone. Annaliese only had one beer plus a sip of the Manhattan, but my wife can’t hold her liquor. I figure she’ll be fast asleep by now, and as soon as I’m too anxious to keep on waiting, I engage the kickstand. Leaving my helmet on the handlebar, I take Annaliese’s key out of my pocket, whistling under my breath as I walk into the building like I have every right to be there.
I’m her fucking husband. Of course I do.
I shoot a friendly smile at the woman who takes the elevator up with me. She’s sixty if she’s a day, but the second I smile, she flushes, patting her hair, murmuring a ‘good evening’ to me. I echo the sentiment, then wink at her in time to step off onto Annaliese’s floor.
Using the copy of her key I made, I let myself into the apartment. After tonight… after my wife finally let me in enough to give me hope… I couldn’t care less if she catches me sneaking in. I don’t expect a repeat of what happened at the Last Prayer just because that’s where my stupid ass brought her tonight. But to see her in that t-shirt and short shorts? If she’d given me any sign that she was interested, I would’ve had her bent over the bathroom sink before she could blink.
Pity that she didn’t. That was my fault, too. I thought I was doing the romantic thing, bringing her back to the place we first met. Stupid idiot that I am, it never occurred to me that, by doing so, I was basically reminding her of the fucker she was running from.
Worse than that, I got the vibe that she thought I only brought her there because it was outside of Harmony Heights. It’s the furthest thing there is from an Order establishment, and instead of proudly showing Annaliese on my arm, I was selfish enough to want to tuck her in the shadows and the smoke, keeping her all for myself in that dive bar.
One step forward, two steps back. Still, I’m not deterred. I want this woman, and I’ll do anything to have her.
Just not tonight.
Annaliese is asleep when I move slowly inside of her bedroom. She lets out soft little snores, pretty brown hair falling loose around her face as she curls up on her pillow like a kitten that’s too tired to pretend she isn’t exhausted.
It breaks something in me every damn time I find her like that.
Pausing only to kick off my boots, I crawl into bed behind her, gently, carefully, like she’s made of something precious. Though I’m being too risky, my fingers ghost over her hair, reveling in just how fucking soft it is.
She exhales. Part contented hum, part sigh.
With my other hand, I rub my aching chest with the heel of it before I lie on my side, pressing my forehead to the back of her neck as my jaw goes undeniably tight.
Tonight was unexpected. It was a pleasure, don’t get me wrong. Since our marriage began, I can’t count the number of times that Annaliese has reached out to me on one hand. For her to call me and wrangle an invitation out with me… fuck, yeah, I cancelled my other plans.
I actually had every intention of going to the Court tonight. Something came up so that Dallas couldn’t be there, but he was sending some other loyal members of his council to sit down with me. Alexandre promised to be there, and if he knows what’s good for him, he would’ve been. Stephen, too, and if he knows what’s good forhim, he would’ve been sober.
I hate the Order of the Owed for so many reasons. The biggest one? Is how the gossips just can’t help myself. In the weeks since I married Annaliese, the whispers have already started. The rumors. Someone—and if I knew who, I’d handle it myself—had mentioned that Annaliese was supposed to be a Used. Instead of being married off to me, they wanted her to be put into service at the Court.
Over my dead body.
Dallas, of course, told the council to fuck off when one of the members mentioned it off-handedly. I’m grateful for how he has my back—and my wife’s—but the truth is that Dallas’s power is already shaky. Between his father embezzling from the Orderbefore he died and Dallas refusing to get married himself… he has his own shit to deal with. At this point, half the Order wants tradition to hold. The other half is demanding change. All of them want to test him, and I wish them all good fucking luck.
Still. Every time Annaelies’s name gets brought up in these rumors, there’s a good chance she’s in danger. I can’t let that happen.
Iwon’tlet that happen.
Those aren’t the only whispers, either. Too many people never expected me to settle down. That I did so quickly… they don’t realize that Annaliese has flipped a switch inside of me, triggering the obsessive side of Sebastien Reynolds that I’ve kept hidden for way too many years now. They think it’s a sham, and while I could give a fuck what they think,Annaliesethinks it’s a sham, too.
No fucking way.
This is real. What we have is real. Tonight was the first step in proving it, and tomorrow? I’ll take it a little further.
For now, I just lie beside her, getting a few hours of peaceful sleep. I close my eyes to the sound of her snores, smiling to myself while promising that no one will get to her while I’m still kicking.
I can’t stay. I wish I could, but with the early morning sunlight beginning to stream in through the window, I’m thinking a little more clearly. I made a small enough stride toward convincing Annaliese to love me last night. If she finds me here, sleeping beside her… I’ll lose it all. Hell, she’ll probably try to invoke the termination clause in her contract.
I won’t listen, but still. She’ll try, and I don’t want her to have to do that.
So, instead, I reluctantly slip out of her bed, looking at her one last time before I grab my boots and go.
My wife looks so small curled up under her blanket, a crease between her brows, almost like she’s fighting something even in her dreams.
It kills me to have to leave her, but I do. I sneak out again, locking the door behind me before I go, all while taking a page out of one of Annaliese’s binders and pulling my plan together.
Last night, she showed me a new side of her. Now? It’s only fair that I get to show her mine.
