Page 23

Chapter Twenty-Two

Viktor

I wake up to a cold pressure on my ankle. It takes an effort to open my left eye; these painkillers are legendary.

Knova’s sitting at the end of the couch with my leg in her lap, icing my ankle. According to Violet, I don’t have a concussion—just a hell of a scare. My helmet did its job when my head hit the boards, and even though I was out of it for a few seconds and slurred a word or two, all the follow-up tests came back clean. No balance issues. No memory gaps. No delayed symptoms. Turns out I didn’t even break my ankle, either—just a brutal sprain. I got off lucky this time. No surgery. Just rest and rehab with Violet. Briggs called it “a vacation,” and at the time I thought he was being a dick. Now? I might actually agree with him.

Watching Knova ice my swollen ankle, I reassess the situation. I could get used to this.

And yet, part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe she’s being nice because I nearly died. Maybe this is just guilt. But the way she’s touching me—carefully, gently—feels like more. And that scares the shit out of me. Because if she’s only doing this out of pity, I’m not sure I’ll recover. Not from her.

She looks up and smiles. “Oh, hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

I try to smile. “If it weren’t for the pain and the overwhelming emotional confusion, I’d really be enjoying this. You look hot holding an ice pack, by the way. Like a nurse from a slightly concerning dream. I can’t believe you made me sleep on the couch, though.”

Knova rolls her eyes at me. “Next time, I’ll make you take the stairs. The pills say you can take one every six hours, and you’ve been asleep for almost eight. There’s a glass of water for you whenever you’re ready.”

I turn my head to see the cup in question, and the pill bottle right beside it. “You’re an angel.”

Knova purses her lips. “Maybe you are concussed.”

“Don’t worry.” I fumble for the pill bottle. “If you don’t tell the world I’m a poser in the fuckboy department, I won’t tell anyone that you’re secretly nice.”

“Awake for two minutes, and you’re already blackmailing me. Typical.” Knova eases my foot out of her lap so gently that it doesn’t add to my pain and stands up.

“Griping at me while looking out for my well-being,” I shoot back. “Typical.” I swallow my painkiller with a swig of the water she’s been thoughtful enough to provide.

A smile flits across her features. “You’ve always got to have the last word, don’t you?”

“I’d rather have a kiss.” The words are out of my mouth before I remember why I was distracted enough to wind up here. I was so sure that we were finished. But then she rolled in, telling everyone that she was my wife, and now she’s icing my damn foot. I don’t know what’s real anymore.

Instead of chewing me out for crossing a line or whipping out a stack of paperwork for me to sign, Knova leans over with one arm against the back of the couch and presses a kiss to my lips. It’s not a passionate kiss. There’s no promise of sex. It’s affectionate, the kind of kiss my parents give each other on the regular, usually to the sounds of the three of us gagging and whining.

It melts the worry in my chest. It’s a promise, even if she didn’t mean it as one. A vow that she’s still here. And that maybe, just maybe, she’s thinking about staying. My chest aches with the pressure of hope—hot and fragile and terrifying. I don’t know where Knova stands on the subject of our annulment, but she hasn’t given up on me just yet.

“I’m an idiot,” I murmur when she pulls away.

“Agreed,” she says without missing a beat. “I have no follow-up questions at this time.”

A knock at the door makes Knova straighten up. She pads over to answer it.

“Do you see why I don’t recognize what the doorbell sounds like?” I call over the back of the sofa. “Normal people knock!”

She opens the door. “Hey,” she says to whoever’s standing outside. “Before I let you in, you gotta ring the bell.”

A few seconds later, the melodious chime of the bell echoes through the house.

“Great.” She steps aside. “Come on in.”

It’s Knight. He gives his sister a skeptical look but doesn’t ask questions, probably because he knows by now that he doesn’t really want answers. He comes to peer over the back of the couch at me. “Hey, dude. Looks like you’re not dead, so that’s good.”

Knova comes over and smacks her brother’s arm. “Great pep talk. What are you doing here?”

He smacks her right back. “Yes, this visit could’ve been a text message or a phone call if either of you two would answer your phones!”

I shift back against the arm of the couch, slowly scooching myself upright. “In my defense, I’m injured.”

“I know. Which is why I have come in person to give you a heads-up.” Knight turns to his sister. “Mom and Dad are on their way over. Molly and Noah, too. Good news travels fast. They know you’re married. More importantly, they know that you two were drunk-married by Elvis. I guess Noah was asking questions, and Dante spilled the beans.”

The air goes out of the room. My body might be stitched together by duct tape and divine intervention, but suddenly, it’s my pride that hurts most. This is supposed to be our story—me and Knova. And now it’s about to be a group discussion with commentary. I don’t want to see the judgment in Cash’s eyes. Or the worry in Molly’s. Or the smirk on Knight’s face when he inevitably says, “I told you so.”

“It was Dante’s idea!” I remind him.

Knova wrinkles her nose. “True, but we’re the ones who kept it secret. I saw them a little more than a week ago. Dad’s going to have opinions about the fact that I didn’t tell him at family dinner.”

“Tell him it was my fault,” I suggest. “He’ll believe that.”

Knova cocks her head. She bends forward to rest her elbows on the back of the couch. “That’s a terrible idea, babe. For one thing, he already has opinions about you. For another, I don’t want to lead into this by pretending you coerced me into lying to my family. I’m not about to tell my dad you manipulated me. That’s not a cute origin story. That’s how HBO dramas start.”

Start. That one word echoes in my brain like a puck off the post. Not end. Not temporary. Not a mistake. Start. My pulse kicks. Maybe I’m not imagining this. Maybe she’s actually thinking about a future. With me.

Another knock at the door makes both Hale twins jump.

“Looks like I made it just in time,” Knight mumbles. “Aaaand now I’m going to be trapped here. Fan-freaking-tastic.”

Sure enough, all four of our parents are at my doorstep. Kingsley is carrying a giant box of takeaway coffee, Mom is holding a fruit platter in both hands, and Dad has a giant box of pastries. Cash, situated at the back of the group, is the only one to arrive empty-handed.

“Wow, hi.” Knova ushers them through. “This is quite the party, isn’t it?”

“We have a lot to talk about,” Mom says. “And I thought food might help, especially since you have your hands full. How are you doing, baby?” She deposits the fruit platter on the coffee table and comes over to squeeze my face between her hands.

“I’m fine, Mom, stop squishing me,” I mumble. I don’t need her to give Knova’s parents the wrong impression. Especially since Cash already hates me.

Knight clears his throat. “I’m sure you all have a lot to discuss, so I’m going to just grab this pastry and…”

“Sit your ass down,” Cash barks.

“Me?” Knight presses his hand to his chest and tries to look innocent. It doesn’t work for him any more than it’s ever worked for me. These people know us too well. “What did I do?”

Cash glares at him. Actually, that might just be Cash’s face. He’s not a big smiler. “You sent your friend to the ER and made me hate him for about a dozen years.”

Knight shoots his sister a reproachful look. “That was supposed to be a secret.” He sits down on the couch and snags a cheese Danish. I’ve never seen anyone chew so sulkily.

The parents shuffle around for a few minutes. Since I’m taking up so much of the couch, and I’m not exactly portable, some of the living room furniture has to be moved in order to make space for the dining room chairs. Eventually, we all circle up, coffee is dispensed onto mugs, and plates are retrieved from the kitchen. I was prepared for them to be furious, but they seem to be more focused on making sure that everyone’s comfortable than on yelling at us.

When they’re all finally settled, Cash spreads his legs, braces his palms on his knees, and turns to me. “I really need to hand it to you, Viktor. You could’ve thrown Knight under the bus the minute I started giving you a hard time. Instead, you showed great loyalty and integrity. These are qualities I value in the man married to my daughter.”

I blink, sure I’ve slipped into a concussion-fueled fever dream. Cash Hale—my mortal enemy since 2018—just complimented me? On my character? Is this a trap? Am I being punked? I glance at Knova for confirmation, but she looks just as shocked as I feel.

“Oh. Um. Thanks?” I’ll be honest, that’s not what I was expecting. Knova has frozen with her pastry raised halfway to her open mouth.

Mom plays with the frayed ends at the tip of her braid. “We’re happy for you. Really, we are. But I just don’t understand how you two could go off and get married without inviting us! Do you have any idea how it feels…”

I hunch my shoulders toward my ears. “Mom, not the nipples again. Please.”

To either side of me, Knight and Knova snicker.

“Nipples?” Mom looks utterly perplexed by this apparent shift in topic. Whoops. “I was going to ask if you have any idea how it feels to have someone you love keep such a huge secret. Why didn’t you feel like you could tell us?”

Kingsley reaches across the table to take Mom’s hand. “It’s not easy, is it? Watching your kids grow up and make decisions you’re not part of. Even when they’re good ones. Even when they’re happy.” She squeezes. “It doesn’t mean they don’t love us. It just means they’re learning how to love someone else, too.”

Knova and I exchange a look. She nods once, decisively. We’re in this together. I stick with the truth. “Because it was an accident. It happened after the season kick-off party. Dante wanted to bring back the magic with a team wedding. He was going to use it in some publicity campaign.”

Dad leans forward in his chair. “Are you saying that Dante forced you into a fake marriage for publicity’s sake? And then, what? Insisted that you stay married?”

“If that were the case, why keep it secret?” Kingsley asks, though she seems to have directed her question to Noah rather than to us.

“It’s not like that. Dante’s crew grabbed the wrong twin, and we—”

Knova jumps in to explain, “We’d had just a bit too much tequila.”

Literally none of our parents seem surprised by this, although Cash is back to giving me the stink-eye.

“We were going to get it annulled,” Knova says.

Cash grunts. “Were. Past tense?”

I, too, have taken note of Knova’s phrasing. My damn hopeful heart aches as I wait for her explanation.

Knova huffs and flips her hair out of her face. “I was planning to have this conversation in private, but I guess now’s as good a time as any.” She twists against the cushions until she’s facing me, though we have to hold our legs funny to make sure we both fit. I wouldn’t mind if she tangled her legs with mine, except for a) parents, and b) my busted ankle. “Viktor. I want to stay married.”

“You do?” I almost flip off the couch in my excitement. “Because I would love that. I love you.”

I mean it with everything I’ve got. Not just the easy parts—her strength, her swagger, the way she yells at me when I deserve it—but the hard stuff, too. The walls. The silence. The fear. I love all of it. All of her.

“I…” Knova’s cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. In general, she’s not what I’d call delicate, but the way she reaches for my hand is almost tentative, and it makes me want to kiss her until her head spins. “I love you, too.”

I don’t care that Knight’s there, or that our parents are watching. I don’t care that I’m hurt, or that we’ll have to resolve this with Dante at some point, or that I’m about to have fifty awkward conversations in the near future, all of which will start with something along the lines of “Hey, funny story, so I’ve kind of been married for almost two months, and I’m just mentioning it now…”

None of that matters, because Knova just told me she loves me. She. Loves. Me.

For the first time in my entire stupid, messy life, I don’t feel like I’m chasing something. I’m standing still. And she’s going to stay.