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And someone who apparently is following the same deal me and his brother had arranged. A marriage in name only for the sake of our fathers’ companies.
How did I not pick up on that? Am I really that delusional?
I take a few calming breaths, running my fingers carefully underneath my eyes to wipe away any stray tears before opening the door a sliver. “I’m going to take a bath. You can…” I swallow heavily, willing my voice not to shake. “You can leave whenever.” If I’m around him much longer, I might start blubbering on his shoulder.
“I’m meeting with my father tomorrow. We’ll come up with a game plan for the curveball I threw everyone.”
I nod, not that he can even see me through the slight crack in the door.
“And I’m sorry. I know you were supposed to marry-”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt him. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I rest my forehead against the door frame, just wanting to escape this situation already. That’s what I’ve always been good at. Running away.
I close the door and plug the drain to the bathtub, turning on the tap. Laid out on the edge of the sparkling white tub is an assortment of high end toiletries, and I grab the bubble bath bottle, twisting off the top to dump it in. It takes me a minute to wiggle out of my dress and peel off my bridal lingerie, each layer I shed releasing a weight from me. I undo the complicated braid around the crown of my head, finger combing it out the best I can, and sink into the hot water, letting the jasmine scented bath soothe the tangle of my mind.
I’m married. To a man who doesn’t want to be married to me.
It’s no different from the situation I expected as of this morning when I thought I’d be marrying his brother, but knowing it’s Archer I won’t have a true marriage with somehow seems infinitely worse.
I was resigned to amarried on paper but completely separate livesarrangement with Gabriel, but I don’t want that anymore. Now that I have Archer, I want the real deal.
Tonight, he’d radiated that same confidence and authority I remembered from high school, grown only stronger with time and experience. He’d been gracious with guests, accommodating to me as I’d trampled over his feet dancing, patient as he pretended to be in love. And even if it wasn’t real, he’s still everything I’ve ever wanted.
My eyes flutter shut, a hundred different scenarios racing through my mind, but in the end, it all boils down to one thing as a resolution settles upon me.
If I want a real marriage… I’ll have to make it one.