Page 34 of Married to the Frenemy

I pause, my eyes locking with hers.

She steps toward me. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for Maggie, but you don’t need to go overboard. We’re not your responsibility.”

“I just wanted to make the transition easier. Not only is she in a strange place, but she’s living with a strange person.” I shrug. “I saw your wish list and figured giving her the room of her dreams might make it easier on her.”

“But that’s the thing. It won’t make it easier on her. Not in the long run.”

“What do you mean?” I give her a quizzical look.

“In a matter of months, this marriage will end,” she whispers. “I’m just trying to manage her expectations so it’s not as hard on her.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t even think about it that way.”

“Because it’s not your responsibility to think about it that way. It’s mine. It won’t be easy on her when it ends. Not if you keep doing these sort of things for her. Things I may never be able to give her on my own. So please. Do what you can to soften the blow, so to speak.”

Exhaling a long sigh, I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to discuss anything involving Maggie with you going forward.”

“Thank you.”

I nod, then turn back around and head down the hallway, unable to shake the feeling she’s not just concerned about softening the blow for her daughter when it ends.

But also for herself.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HALEY

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so tired. If this was any other Sunday, I would have been in bed hours ago. Hell, I probably would have been asleep mere minutes after Maggie had gone to bed.

But it’s nearly midnight and I’m still awake, even though I barely slept last night, too riddled with nerves about whether I could really marry Beckham. I made it through most of the day on pure adrenaline.

Thankfully, Maggie was asleep before seven. It took a lot of convincing to get her to leave her new bed to eat dinner, which consisted of a pizza Beckham ordered. I’ve never seen my little girl as happy as she was when she saw that bed. Normally, bedtime can be a bit of a struggle. Not tonight. She was bouncing with excitement over the idea of sleeping in her brand new “big girl bed”, as she calls it.

As much as I want to be upset with Beckham, I can’t deny it warms my heart how he went out of his way to make her comfortable here. Still, I have to keep in mind what’s best for Maggie in the long run.

“Do you want to head up to bed?”

I snap my eyes open and glance at the opposite end of the couch where Beckham and I have been lounging the past few hours.

I didn’t get a chance to appreciate his house when we first walked in, since Maggie was so excited about seeing her room. It’s exactly the kind of place I pictured for him. White walls with dark trim, complete with exposed wood beams lining the open space of the living, dining, and kitchen areas. The decor is what I’d describe as vineyard chic with obvious inspiration from Tuscany, especially in the art pieces adorning the walls.

“We can watch another episode if you want. I’m not that tired,” I say, fighting a yawn.

“Haley…” He narrows his gaze on me with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Are you only staying awake because you’re nervous about your wedding night?” He waggles his brows suggestively. “The first time can be scary, but I promise to make it good for you.”

I throw a pillow at him. “You’re such a jackass,” I retort, trying to suppress memories of just how good he made my first time.

It’s the last thing I need to think about, considering I’ll be sharing a bed with him for the next few months. After feeling his lips against mine again earlier today, it’s nearly impossible not to let my mind wander to what could have been.

Which won’t do either of us any good.

“I just really like this show.”

It’s not a complete lie. Schitt’s Creek is one of my favorite series. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t purposefully staying awake to delay slipping into bed with Beckham.

“This episode is one of the best ones, too,” I continue. “The whole ‘fold in the cheese’ bit is hysterical.” Another yawn fights to be set free, and this time, I can’t hold it back.

“Okay, sleepy head.” Beckham grabs the remote and turns off the TV.

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