Page 30 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

NINETEEN

PEACHES

LONI

H aven doesn’t want to speak to me.

That’s just the icing on the cake of what turned out to be an awful birthday. First, Adrian put the Order before acknowledging my birthday—even though he admitted he knew exactly when it was and that he bought me a bracelet that, spitefully, I tossed in a drawer to rot.

Jewelry? Could that gift have been any less personal? And though I’m not so unappreciative that I told Adrian that to his face, the fact that I didn’t put it on was all he needed to know after he gave it to me.

Something happened at the Court. After I left, I’m pretty sure. Adrian’s hands were swollen and cut when he handed me the bracelet’s box, and when I asked him point-blank if he went after Max and punched him in the face, he looked me dead in the eye and said softly, “No.”

I believed him. He didn’t punch Max.

But he sure as hell punched something .

He didn’t want to talk about the injuries to his hand.

Fair enough. I didn’t want to talk about Haven, and when he told me over breakfast the next morning that he reached out to Connor—who seems to have become her guardian or something since her ‘incident’—and he apologetically told him that Haven is aware that I’m in town, but that she’ll talk to me when she’s ready.

Only she’s not ready yet, and that’s just another blow to my esteem that I didn’t need.

Did I think that I was lonely before? Knowing that the only good friend I ever had is happy to keep her distance from me cuts like a knife. And that’s not fair. I know it isn’t. Something happened to Haven, and from what I can infer, it wasn’t good. She needs time. She needs space.

And I?

I don’t know what the hell I need.

A husband who cared would be nice. Who spent time getting to know me instead of thinking of me as the girl he once knew instead of the woman I’ve become.

That’s not asking much, right? I mean, when I think about how far he went to make me his wife in the first place…

I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been asking too much.

So many Offerings end up in loveless marriages.

At least Adrian seems to care for me in his own way.

And I’m pretty sure that I don’t have to worry about him going to one of the Used… for now.

The whole rest of the day after my birthday, I convince myself that I should be satisfied with what I have.

It could always be worse, and it could be that my expectations were way too high for my birthday this year.

After all, I’ve only been back in Adrian’s life for a month.

Most of the time, we’re doing our own thing.

It isn’t fair of me to expect more when I’ve spent the last month trying my best to keep him out.

If he doesn’t know the twenty-eight-year-old Loni that I am now, is that really his fault? Or is it mine, too?

It’s fine. It’s fine . I tell myself that repeatedly because, even if it isn’t, there’s nothing I can do to change it now.

And I’ve just about convinced myself of that fact when Adrian comes stalking into the living room where I’m mindlessly watching television.

I called out today. I didn’t have to. Working remotely…

as long as I hit my quota every work, performing my audits on time, my supervisor doesn’t really care when precisely I’m on the clock.

I had the entire day yesterday to myself because Maxwell and Dimmity’s gives a personal day for your birthday.

Since I’m still sulking today, I put in for another one.

Adrian had frowned when I told him that during breakfast. If he’d known, he would’ve rearranged his own schedule, but it looked like he couldn’t.

He had an important meeting in the morning, another with Jack and Dallas Collins for lunch, and then something planned in the afternoon he just couldn’t miss.

Translation: sorry, Loni, but the Order still comes first.

I expected that to mean he wouldn’t be home until well after dinnertime. I made myself a quick PB&J for lunch, planning to order in for dinner in case Adrian didn’t show until late. Then, curled up on the couch in the living room, I zoned out.

When Adrian walks into the living room, the first thing I notice is that he already removed his tie. To me, that’s a sure sign that his word day is over but, as I grab my phone and glance at it, I see it’s only three o’clock.

Huh. That’s early.

I open my mouth to ask him about when I notice a second thing about him.

His hands are in front of his middle, cupped around something that is squirmy and orange and fluffy and mewing and holy fucking shit’’

“Is that a kitten?”

My fingers fly up, covering my mouth in surprise.

Because it is. I see the reflective greenish-yellow eyes. The triangle-shaped ears. The tiny head peeking up from the hole he made in his hands.

Why in God’s name does Adrian have a kitten ?

With a slow smirk crossing his face, he moves into the room. Dropping down at my side, he opens his hands, placing the kitten in my lap.

“She doesn’t have a name yet,” he murmurs. “I thought I would leave that up to you.”

“Did you… is she…” I pause, gathering my excited thoughts together. “Did you get me a kitten?”

Reaching out, Adrian rubs his pointer finger underneath the kitten’s chin. She immediately starts purring like a motorboat, and I fall instantly in love with her.

“I went back and forth on this. For the last week I’ve been deciding whether I should bring you to the shelter or if I should surprise you with one for your birthday. In the end, I went and rescued one myself because… to be honest, Loni… if you went, we would’ve come home with the whole litter.”

“You know,” I say, suddenly feeling more light-hearted than I have in days, “studies say that kittens do better when there are two of them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. When you see how much stuff I had to pick up in order for the shelter to let me adopt her… you might just be satisfied with one.”

Somehow, I highly doubt that.

For now, though, I’m just so excited to have even this one. I mean, does he think he can buy my affection with a kitten?

Shit.

He’s not wrong.

I’ve always wanted a cat. It just never was the time. Once I didn’t have a roommate anymore, I lived alone, and while I didn’t have to go into the office daily back then, it was still away enough that it wouldn’t have been fair for a companion animal.

But I don’t go in to the office anymore. I’m home every day, and if I have a kitten of mine… maybe I won’t be as lonely as I have been.

Maybe—

Wait.

What was it Adrian said?

For the last week…

“Are you saying that you were always planning on getting me a kitten?”

“You’ve always wanted one.” He pets the baby cat, then strokes my jaw.

“I didn’t bring her home yesterday because the shelter was closed and I thought…

fuck it, Loni. No excuses. I don’t know what I thought.

I should’ve gone on the 23rd, but I didn’t.

I made the appointment for the 25th instead because I’m a fucking idiot when it comes to you.

I thought… I thought one day wouldn’t matter. ”

Normally, it wouldn’t.

But, normally, I’m not in a forced marriage with a husband who is trying to do everything he can to prove himself while I do everything I can to push back against it.

His brows draw together, a hint of vulnerability on a man who is so rarely vulnerable. “Do you like her? They told me that it’s not so usual for an orange cat to be a girl. I liked her, though. The orange fur reminded me of your strawberry blonde hair. You kinda match.”

I glance at the kitten, then up at Adrian. “She has your eyes, too.”

He chuckles. ‘Yeah. I guess she does.”

So maybe weren’t having kids just yet. But it looks like we’re the proud parents of a four-month-old kitten just waiting for us to name her.

Because Adrian adopted her for me.

Because he knew I wanted a kitten.

Because he knows me better than I thought.

Yeah. I’m in big, big trouble, aren’t I?