Page 26 of Avenged

I heard Violet galloping down the stairs just as the timer went off for the muffins. I pulled them out of the oven and turned to see her yawning as she came into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” I said.

“So, what’s it feel like?” she asked in response.

“What?”

“To be the morning of your wedding day.” She smirked, snatching a muffin and the butter and retreating to the kitchen table.

I grabbed my own muffin and followed her.

“I can’t believe you think I should do this.”

She shrugged. “It was pretty clear from the contract you wrote it’d just be a platonic partnership.”

“It’s still wrong,” I said, devouring the muffin and going back for another. I hadn’t eaten much in the last few days, and my body was finally objecting to it. But when you’re in that much pain and your body feels bloated and so hard it might burst, you definitely don’t want to put food in it.

“Think about in the old days when all those dukes and lords used to get married for money or for titles. This is way less wrong than that.”

“Those dukes and lords still shared a bed and had babies.”

“And you want to share his bed and have babies, is that it?” she teased.

“God, don’t even insinuate it,” I said with a frown, but inside, my heart was rolling over at the thought of being married to someone like Travis. Really married. The gift he would be to someone, because he wouldn’t stop at anything to make them happy. To protect them. To make sure they had everything they needed in life. He was that kind of guy. I may not know all the ins and outs of him and his life, but I knew that.

She came around the table and hugged me. “I need to know you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, too.”

I’d been fourteen when Mom died of ovarian cancer. Violet had been six. We’d pretty much lost our Dad at that point, too, because he hadn’t been able to cope with losing Mom. He’d become a surly drunk. Apologetic and sad the next morning, only to do it all over again that night.

Until he’d cost us everything. Our house. Our lives. Our friends.

But this. This with me. It wasn’t cancer. The doctor was almost positive it wasn’t cancer. But a teeny bit of me was nervous, and I felt like I owed it to Violet to make sure it wasn’t. To make sure I’d be there looking after her for the long haul as I’d promised myself I would be.

That’s what made me say yes. The fact that, in the long run, this was for her.

I blew out a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay, like you’ll do it, okay?” she asked, a huge smile taking over her face for the first time in days. She’d been so worried, and I hated I’d been the cause.

I nodded.

“Yes!” She moved away, doing a little dance move she hadn’t done in years. One she’d coined as her signature “touchdown” dance.

I laughed.

“Let’s go, then. We have to get you ready to get married,” she said.

“I don’t think I need to do anything. After all, it isn’t that kind of wedding, right?”

“Right, but you still don’t want to look like a schlep on your wedding day.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her happiness. At the giddiness that had taken over her. If this made her happy, then it had to be right, even though a part of me was still screaming at how wrong it was.

I let her drag me up to my room. She sent me to shower while she worked out an outfit for me to wear. When I came out, she’d picked out a cream-colored dress with tiny blue and purple flowers I’d almost forgotten I owned. I hadn’t worn it in years. It was out of style and shorter than the dresses I wore these days—if I wore a dress at all.

“I don’t know, Violet. It seems a little too teenager for me,” I told her.

“You act like you're forty or something,” she said.

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