Page 36 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)

Fiona

She’s a keeper.

If only Paola knew. I can’t believe she bought our lies.

I guess sticking to the truth as much as possible helped.

After all, we did meet at Harvard, and there are a lot of red roses—in his backyard.

And he was on one knee for about half a second last night between dropping me on the bed and climbing on top of me.

So yeah. Truckloads of truth.

The clacking of Paola’s keyboard is like the sound of someone hitting a button that releases more and more anxiety into my system. I wipe my clammy hands on my thighs. I feel like a mouse trapped in a maze it can never escape. Two years, I tell myself. Two years, and I’ll be fine.

I glance at Bryce as he checks the information on the marriage license to make sure everything is proper. How does he really feel about all this?

He has to hate me, but there are times he does or says things that make me think that perhaps he doesn’t truly hate me.

And that’s what makes him so dangerous. With other people, their regard for me is crystal clear.

I don’t have to second-guess myself, and they also don’t make me think that there could be more .

But if I start to believe that with Bryce, he’ll break my heart, and I can’t let him.

If I have my heart shattered again, I’ll never recover.

It took me so long to piece my life together, to heal my emotional wounds.

I even went to a place where nobody knew me so that I could really start fresh.

Despite the loneliness, it worked. I never let anybody become too important, so no one would have too much power over my emotional wellbeing.

Nobody is allowed to do what Jude did to me.

“Judge Mansfield is available if you don’t have anyone else in mind and want to get everything done today and hold the ceremony later,” Paola says. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to marry you.”

My smile hurts my cheeks. “That’s wonderful. You’re such a gem.”

“Not at all. I’m so happy for you guys. This is one of the most exciting things that’s happened since I started working here.”

“Really?” You’d think a clerk’s office would have more interesting gossip than a couple getting married.

“Yeah, there’s a betting pool for which Huxley twin is getting married first, and I won.” She twists a little in a restrained dance.

“Am I going to get a share of that?” Bryce asks, leaning against the counter.

“No, but I’ll buy you a drink.” She taps the back of his hand, then winks. My chest suddenly feels uncomfortable, like I’m having heartburn.

Not even glancing at me, Bryce laughs, which intensifies the acidic feeling. “Deal. I’ll take you up on that one of these days.”

“Hey, you know my number.”

I start walking away—I’ve seen enough. Bryce says bye and catches up to me with wide-legged strides.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, a smirk in his voice.

I look straight ahead, maintaining the same pace.

“No.” It’d be absurd to admit it. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean we have any claim over each other.

Our relationship is worse than just dating.

At least with dating, you don’t have a set end date.

This marriage is doomed to end in two years from now.

“As fun as it is to see you worked up, don’t worry. She doesn’t like me that way.”

I give him a look .

“It’s true. She’s dating a hockey player. But even if she weren’t, I wouldn’t cheat on my partner. It’d be disrespectful.” He holds my eyes. “And hurtful.”

It’s as though he’s daring me to explain why I did what I did to him back then. Although intellectually I understand that I was a victim too, deep in my heart, there’s shame. Shame that I didn’t know better, that I wasn’t more careful, that if I had been smarter, I would’ve been able to stop Jude.

I opt for something I should’ve said before leaving for Wisconsin. “Bryce, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

He takes half a step back and stares. And it hits me—I’ve never apologized to him for what happened, ever.

We never got a chance, especially after Bryce said I was dead to him.

But I should’ve made more of an effort. If I had, we might’ve been able to get some sort of closure, let go and move on—a much healthier outcome than what actually happened.

“I should’ve said it before I left for Wisconsin.

It was thoughtless of me. I know it sounds like I’m making excuses, but at the time, I just had to leave as quickly as I could without really talking to anybody. ”

He gives me a long look. “Why? What happened?”

His expression is soft and gentle, like that of a man who’s willing to listen and forgive.

I’m tempted to break down and unload everything.

However, the years-old shame claws the churning words back down from my lips.

I choose my response with care. “I…needed a new beginning. Wisconsin felt like the perfect place, far away from L.A. and…from the people I knew. Contrary to what you might’ve thought, my relationship with Jude was awful.

Just terrible. And my biggest regret was hurting you.

You were so good to me. You deserved the very best of everything.

” I manage a smile, but from his taut face, I know it’s not a very good one.

Several beats pass, the entire courthouse seemingly frozen. It’s too late. Too little, too late.

Finally, I say, “Why don’t we just go see the judge?” It comes out as a croak.

Bryce gazes at me for a moment, then gives a curt nod. “Okay.”

* * *

Judge Mansfield is an older gentleman, hair gray with lots of wrinkles stretching over his face. Maybe in his early sixties, he’s in a white button-down shirt and slacks with a brown knit vest. A plate of half-eaten sugar cookies is next to him, crumbs covering the desk.

When he notices us, he smiles, eyes twinkling, and gets up to greet us. “How good to see you.” He shakes hands with Bryce, clasping his shoulder with the other hand. “How’s your grandmother?”

“Doing well, thank you.” Then Bryce mouths, I’m Bryce .

The gesture surprises me. Although Bryce and Josh are twins, they look totally different if you spend more than a minute studying them. There’s an air about them, a kind of electrical charge that makes them unique to each other.

The judge laughs. “Thanks for taking pity on an old man.” He turns to me. “And who is this beautiful young lady?”

“This is Fiona, my fiancée.”

“How lovely.” He extends a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

I pump his hand. “The pleasure’s mine.”

“So, what’s the occasion?”

Bryce hands him the marriage license. “We’re getting married.”

“Well! Congratulations!” Judge Mansfield looks back and forth between us. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I’d like you to marry us, if you have the time,” Bryce says.

“No fancy ceremony?” The judge’s curious eyes flick to me, gauging my reaction, but I merely paste on my perfect good-girl smile.

“That’ll come later,” Bryce responds, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer.

I respond by looping my arms around his waist, letting his body heat seep into me. “We want to make it official as soon as possible.”

“In that case, it’ll be my pleasure.” The judge smiles and clasps Bryce’s shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “I can’t believe it. It feels like it was only yesterday when you were a tiny little baby I bounced on my knee. Look at you now. Taller than me and wanting to start a family of your own.”

“There’s no baby yet,” I add quickly .

“Maybe not now, but there will be one soon. You know Catalina is looking forward to one. Marrying into the Huxley family is like gaining the biggest ally you can have, the kind that will always watch your back and keep you safe. You’re a lucky woman,” the judge says to me.

“Thank you.” I try to sound joyful, but can’t hide the wistfulness.

He’s describing the kind of family I’d love to have, but won’t.

That will be for some future woman Bryce falls in love with and marries.

When his family finds out what happened between me and Bryce, they’ll never forgive me.

Actually, they might already know. Josh and Ares have to be aware of our ugly college breakup, and might have told them already.

Still, I manage to maintain a smile as the judge asks his assistant and clerk to come in to be our witnesses, then starts the civil ceremony.

“Do you, Bryce Huxley, take Fiona Oberman as your lawfully wedded wife, and offer her your love, strength, support, loyalty and faith as long as you shall live?”

Bryce raises his chin. “I do.”

Anxiety knots my gut. Bryce doesn’t believe in the vow, but he says “I do” with such conviction that it makes my heart ache with longing.

Judge Mansfield nods and turns to me. “Do you, Fiona Oberman, take Bryce Huxley as your lawfully wedded husband, and offer him your love, strength, support, loyalty and faith as long as you shall live?”

Inhaling shakily, I look at the judge, then at Bryce.

The question feels like an indictment about how I’ve treated Bryce before.

I haven’t given him any of those. But at the same time, I’m getting a two-year-long chance to close the old chapter and start a new one, one where I redeem myself for my past.

“I do,” I whisper.

Bryce’s shoulders relax a bit. Was he nervous that I’d reject him?

I reach out and squeeze his hand to let him know turning away from him was the last thing on my mind.

Smiling a little, he pulls out another velvet box bearing the Sebastian Jewelry logo.

Inside are matching wedding bands. He slides the smaller one on my finger.

I stare at the simple, elegant platinum band. Something beneath my feet seems to shift, telling me my life is about to change in a big way.

Giving Bryce a tremulous smile, I gently push the bigger band along his finger. In my head, I hear something closing—like a door shutting off a line of retreat, forcing me to walk forward.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The judge beams. “You may kiss the bride.”

I freeze at the declaration. I was so focused on the change in my marital status that I totally forgot about the kiss at the end of the ceremony. Bryce turns to me. His eyes are expectant, but he doesn’t make the move to kiss me.

Guess he remembers my rather heated words from before that kissing me without my consent would be rape.

I don’t want to embarrass him by refusing to seal the ceremony with something as traditional as a kiss.

But I don’t want to set the wrong precedent, or an expectation that I have feelings for him.

Putting my hands on his shoulders, I stretch up on my toes and place my lips on the corner of his. “Husband.”

Something like disappointment and regret flashes in his eyes. But then he smiles. “Wife.”

Unlike my whisper, his word is firm and possessive.

I flush. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I promise myself that I’ll be the best wife I can, as long as the marriage lasts.