Page 45 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)

What on earth went through his mind when he made that decision? “Our breakup wasn’t pretty.” The understatement of the century.

“But he chose to have those roses. Don’t you think that might mean your marriage to Bryce might not be as shallow as you imagine? ”

I stare at her. “How do you know?”

She smiles warmly. “You didn’t want to accept the pearls and said things are ‘complicated.’ You were so nervous that you were shaking at the dinner. You weren’t just anxious about meeting his family, but about the entire marriage itself, right?”

I nod numbly.

“Fiona, if you believe it won’t work out, it won’t. Your thoughts and beliefs are seeds that sprout. They grow and bear the fruit you imagine them to bear.”

The air in my lungs freezes. I’ve always thought that good things don’t last. My life experiences have shown that over and over again since I was little.

Not many kids get adopted only to be dumped.

Or adopted again only to be told they’re a tool so that somebody else can accumulate good karma for a dead girl.

Every good thing comes with something equally bad—actually worse, because I’ve already tasted the sweetness.

But did I add to the problem by bracing for a bad ending? Could I have changed anything in my past by not being so fatalistic?

The notion is frustrating and scary. How can I ever be good enough to be worthy? It’s a question I’ve struggled with for so long. It’s disconcerting to hear that I should just believe I’m worthy.

My expression must alarm her a bit—she deftly turns the topic to what I’d been doing before I reunited with Bryce.

She oohs and aahs over my job at the cheese company, saying how much she loves cheese.

Her knowledge of various cheeses and how they’re made is pretty impressive.

She could easily work at my old company.

When I tell her so, she laughs. “No. I’m just happy being a housewife. It brings me joy to beautify our home, invent new recipes and invite the family over for dinner. I love it when they’re well received, and every plate is polished off.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her that her sons would be licking the plates for the last drop of sauce out of hunger if it weren’t considered rude. Besides, her cooking is amazing. Bryce finished every bite even after devouring half a pizza.

“If you want, I can teach you some of my simpler ones. Bryce is fond of kinpira renkon—stir-fried lotus root,” she explains when I frown in confusion. “It’s just that I rarely make it because it doesn’t always go with my dinners.”

“Sure. I’d love that.”

Shockingly enough, we manage to decimate the desserts on the trays. Akiko sighs with satisfaction. “That was fun.” She grins at me. “And delicious. We should do it again. Next time with Lareina. She’s a hoot.”

“I’d love that.”

Akiko insists on picking up the tab, saying it’s her prerogative as my mother-in-law. I offer to treat her next time, and we laugh and leave together.

As we spill into the lobby, I stop short.

Sherry’s there. She seems to have been unaffected by the wedding.

The same serene expression, her thumb constantly moving the beads on her japamala.

Aaron’s debt apparently hasn’t affected her—she’s still in a designer dress and the Louboutin shoes she loves so much.

Her eyes flick to me, then to Akiko, eyebrows rising a bit at how closely we’re standing together. I stiffen, feeling oddly like a man getting caught cheating.

“Hello, Finn.”

Akiko tilts her head in curiosity and confusion.

“And this is…?” Sherry trails off, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

I tense as the need to please her and be perfect grips me, like some kind of ingrained conditioning. “Akiko.”

“I’m Fiona’s mother-in-law,” Akiko elaborates, extending her hand smoothly.

Sherry takes a step back. Akiko drops her hand with a puzzled look.

“Mother-in-law?” Sherry turns to me, her voice suddenly taut. “When did you get married?”

“Last week.” I clear my throat, then quickly add, “Sorry you weren’t invited. It was rather sudden. But literally nobody was invited. It wasn’t just you.”

“Who’s the groom?”

“Bryce.”

“That Huxley boy?”

“Yeah.” I indicate Akiko with a sideways nod. “This is Akiko Huxley . ”

“I see.” Sherry blinks a few times, processing the information. It must be a shock. After all, I was supposed to marry Jude not too long ago. She abruptly spins around and starts to walk away.

“Wait!” I can’t let her go like this, when I don’t know how upset she is.

She stops, but doesn’t turn around. “What is it?”

“Are you…upset with me?”

A moment of silence. “No. I’m fine. We don’t have the kind of relationship in which you need my permission to pursue your own happiness. Besides, it’s good karma for Finley. You did well, and so did I.” She squeezes my hand, then walks away.

I stare at her retreating back. She sometimes says things that don’t make much sense, but this is a new height of incomprehensibility.

Zachary hated it when I questioned her, so I quit probing.

But I wish I could figure out what’s going on in her head.

What does marrying Bryce have to do with Finley’s karma?

“Are you all right?” Akiko says.

“Yes.” I turn to her and manage a smile. “I think so.”

“Is your mother always so…unique?”

I almost laugh at her word choice. “I guess.” Still, I can’t shake off the feeling that something’s off with Sherry…except I know she won’t tell me anything.