I spun the massive diamond ring on my finger. The attorney had shaken my hand a little too hard, crushing my fingers. There was now a red indent on the side from the cut diamonds.
The ring was so big and gorgeous, it was borderline gauche.
When he took me to Tiffany’s, I thought I would put him off by selecting the largest ring they had on display. But Var simply shrugged and tossed his American Express Black Card on the counter. As if it were no big deal to charge a three-quarters of a million-dollar ring.
So I upped the ante and demanded that a few of the diamonds be replaced with black diamonds and then asked for a matching black diamond eternity band so the whole wedding set would have a chic Art Deco vibe.
Var looked the stunned clerk dead in the face and told him not only to make it happen but that he wanted it delivered to the Four Monks by the end of the day, no matter the cost.
We were having a private dinner that evening when the salesclerk and security guard arrived with the ring.
When he slid it on my finger, he leaned in and rasped into my ear, “Checkmate, beautiful.”
Damn him.
He’d known what I was doing all along and out-played me.
Leaning forward, I tapped the edge of the desk. “I doubt the marriage is even legal.” Not wanting to give too much away about Var’s criminal enterprise, I simply said, “The judge seemed… incompetent.”
The attorney nodded and continued to rummage through his drawers without looking at the paper. “One moment. I need to find my glasses.”
“They’re already on your head.”
His hand went to his face. “So they are.” He picked the paper up again.
My stomach twisted as the reality of what I was doing settled in on me.
Did I really want to leave Var? The first man I’d ever been with who could match my strong personality? Who actually found my stubborn bullshit endearing? Who was the best sex of my life? Who doted on and spoiled me? And bonus, who was super jealous and protective of me in that crazy, sexy hot way I’d only read about in romance novels?
Was I really going to toss all that away because he didn’t get down on one knee?
Because society said it was too soon?
Because our meet cute was more of a meet fucked up?
This was a mistake.
Perhaps the attorney being an idiot was a sign.
And when it came down to it… did I really want a divorce?
Did I not want to be married to Var because I didn’t want to be married to him, or was it more because he’d put my pride and nose out of joint by insisting without even proposing?
Was I doing what I always do?
Was I ruining something good out of spite?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d fucked up.
I’d fallen in love with my husband!
Crap.
Shoving the purse handle over my forearm, I rose. “I think I made a?—”
The attorney looked up. “An annulment may be possible. Was the marriage consummated?”
I thought back to our wedding day and without thinking blurted out, “Does anal count?”