Page 139 of An Inevitable Marriage

Liam

Afterafewmoreerrands that took most of the day, I was ready to go home to my wife. My wife. Shit, I really did like the sound of that. With a grin, I collapsed onto the plush seat of my plane. I pulled my phone from my pocket to let Snow know I was on my way, but I only found a few texts from her already waiting for me.

My grin widened as I tapped on the icon and opened her messages.

My wife:Your office is big and lonely without you in it.

My wife:At least Tamara is good company. And a great storyteller. I love hearing all about grumpy Liam.

Laughing softly, I quickly typed a response.

Me:Don’t believe everything she tells you.

Her text was time-stamped over two hours prior, and I knew it was time for her to leave the office. I’d just started typing my next message when the dots started jumping. I erased everything I’d typed, I waited.

My wife:Oh, I don’t know. The stories do sound so believable.

My fingers flew over the screen.

Me:Sounds like you had a good day, then?

Her response was immediate.

My wife:A productive one. Can’t wait to show you everything.

My wife:This year’s year-end function will be amazing…if I do say so myself.

Me:YOU are amazing.

Me:What are you doing?

My wife:Heading home now. I ordered noodles from that place you like.

I reread her message twice and still couldn’t figure out why my heart wanted to leap out of my chest.

Me:Be safe. Text me the moment you’re there.

“The pilot is ready whenever you are, sir.” The flight attendant’s voice sounded from beside me.

I looked up from my phone to see her standing in the aisle with her hands clasped behind her back. My gaze dropped to the now black screen in my hand. I frowned. Once we were in the air, there was no way for me to communicate with Snow. I wouldn’t know if she’d made it home safe.

“I’m not ready,” I told her. “I’ll let you know when I am.”

She gave me a slight nod then spun around. My attention was back on my phone before she even took her first step. I scrolled back to Snow’s message from earlier, the one where she’d told me she’d ordered dinner.

It was something so ordinary, so domestic. My heart bounced like a wild animal, beating to an unnaturally fast rhythm. And I realized this was what it felt like to be loved. The feeling was indescribable and so big, I feared my body couldn’t contain it.

I stared at that message until I-didn’t-even-know-how-many minutes later a new text from Snow popped up. She’d written she was home and then sent me a photo—a selfie of her snuggled on the couch holding a book in front of her.

Me:Gorgeous. What are you reading?

Her next message took a while to come through, and when it did, I understood why.She’d written almost three paragraphs explaining the premise of her book. I hadn’t seen her, hadn’t heard her voice, but it was impossible not to envision the excitement on her face as she spoke about these fictional characters she was so invested in.

Me:Sounds intriguing.

The dots started, then stopped, then started up again. Three times it happened like that before her text came through.

My wife:Are you making fun of me?