Page 15 of Marrying Mr. Wentworth (Austen Hunks #3)
Same time — Christopher
A riana slammed the bathroom door like she’d just finished a closing argument.
I stood there for a full thirty seconds, letting the echo settle.
Then I looked down at my ring.
It was gold-plated, not real, but somehow it looked like it belonged on my finger. Like fate had a sense of humor and a shopping cart full of clearance accessories.
I could not bring myself to take it off. I didn’t want to.
I walked to the window and looked out at the Vegas skyline—glassy towers, fake pyramids, a giant Eiffel Tower pretending nothing was insane.
Somewhere down there was a wedding chapel with two empty champagne flutes, a receipt, and a framed picture of us I never should’ve let them take.
No doubt it would end up on a celebrity gossip website within hours.
That was my life now. But I couldn’t even get mad about it.
Because all I could think was… I’m married to Ariana . Finally .
And yeah. Maybe I should’ve stopped it.
But I hadn’t.
Because for one minute—one real, perfect, late-night moment—I let myself believe it was possible. That maybe we could rewrite the ending. That maybe Ariana still felt it too.
She hadn’t. Or she didn’t remember. Same result either way.
The shower turned on behind the door. My mind helpfully offered a visual. I told it to shut up.
I made myself a cup of hotel coffee and leaned against the desk, waiting.
Ten minutes later, she emerged in a cloud of steam and fury, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, hair dripping, skin flushed. She froze when she saw me still standing there.
“You’re still here?” she asked, incredulous.
I took a sip of coffee. “We’re married.” I couldn’t help the grin I gave her.
Her eyes narrowed. “Nope. Annulment, remember? Stat.”
“I remember.” I set the cup down. “But I’m going to ask you to wait.”
She barked a laugh. “Wait? For what? The part where you trick me into a vow renewal?”
I smiled. “Tempting. But no.”
She crossed her arms. The towel dipped a little. I noticed. I tried not to. I failed.
“I’m serious,” I said, voice low. “Just…wait. Forty-eight hours. That’s all I’m asking.”
She stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Two days?” she said. “Of what—honeymooning?”
I stepped closer. Not to intimidate. Just to be there. To make her feel it.
The pull. The heat. The past that hadn’t burned out—just gone underground.
“No expectations,” I said. “No pressure. Just…don’t file yet. Let’s see what happens.”
She shook her head. “What happens is that I lose brain cells and you get your little fantasy reunion.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“No?” She tilted her head. “Then tell me what this is, Christopher. Make it make sense.”
I looked at her. Really looked at her.
And then I said the thing I’d been holding back since the day I walked away from her.
“I never stopped loving you.”
First, she gasped.
Then she blinked. Hard.
I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
I forced my voice to remain calm. “Back then, I thought walking away was the right call. You had this future—a real future . And I was some broke kid chasing a dream. I didn’t want to be the reason you gave up law school or any of it. I thought letting you go was the one good thing I could do.”
“You didn’t let me go,” she snapped, voice rough. “You dropped me.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “And I’ve regretted it every day since.”
Silence stretched between us like a wire ready to snap.
“You’re not the only one who remembers everything, Ari,” I said.
“I remember what it felt like when you laughed at my terrible jokes. I remember the little mole on your hip you used to complain about and I used to kiss. I remember what it was like to wake up next to you and know I was exactly where I was supposed to be.”
Her jaw clenched. She looked away.
I took one step closer.
“Give me two days. If you still want to get an annulment after that, I won’t stop you. Hell, I’ll drive you to the courthouse myself. But for forty-eight hours…let’s pretend last night wasn’t a mistake.”
She didn’t answer.
But she didn’t say no either.
And that?
That was enough—for now. And I had another card to play.