Page 163 of Imperfect Match

“She’s your wife, not your property. If you think otherwise, feel free to take your male chauvinistic ass out of my house and return when you’re back to your senses.”

If there’s one thing that calls out the deep-buried, forgotten humanitarian in Raymond Teager, it’s even the slightest implication of a woman being undervalued.

“Don’t you fucking know me? You think I treat her like my property?”

We stare at each other for a while like two dogs forced to fight, until he shakes his head.

“She looked upset and I realized things might not be going as smoothly as stated in the contract. Or am I mistaken?”

I can’t believe this asshole, who knows I hate that word contract and yet continues to use it, is the same man who moments ago was learning how to braid his daughter’s hair.

“She wants a divorce.”

I’d have appreciated if there was a glint of surprise on his face, but he’s definitely not here to please me tonight.

“And you don’t?” he finally asks, after taking a satisfying sip of his Diet Coke. “You got what you wanted, and I’m guessing you’ve ensured her father’s care is covered even after you split. Isn’t this a win-win since you never wanted to get married in the first place?”

My grip tightens around the glass. “I like having her around.” The confession slips out of my mouth, and I hate it. Not the admission, but the fact that I’m still lying.

Like.

Such a weak word for what I feel for Daisy.

“Are you telling me you’ve fallen for your fake wife, Charlie?” Ray chuckles, but when I don’t join him in his stupid laugh or flick his head like I want to, he sobers fast.

“Holy shit! I had too much faith in you, brother. Do you know you just cost me a Ferrari?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I owe Rowan a Ferrari. On your wedding day, I said this sacred union wouldn’t last for more than six months, but he was convinced you would fall in love with your bride and end up in a Disney happily ever after. I’m so disappointed, Charles! I thought I knew you the best among us all.”

“That’s such an asshole thing to do! Do you think I feel better hearing about it?”

“And you think I care how you feel? I just lost a quarter of a million dollars. Anyway, you’re wasting your time here, especially now that I know how you feel about her.”

Ray takes my empty glass from my hand and gets up, silently asking me to do the same.

“Daisy is at her friend’s place. The obnoxious one with red hair. Willow—that’s her name, right? I think you better go run and talk to your wife, especially if you plan to woo her back into your life.” That bastard grins before grabbing a rose stem from the vase on the bar and securing it in my suit pocket, even tapping on it.

I wish with every fiber of my being that someday soon he’s in a similar situation and I’m the one telling him to go run and woo a girl.

I’ll see your smile that day, Ray.

As Steve drives me from Ray’s to Willow’s place, I let my mind run wild.

She left.

She fucking left.

Why am I surprised?

She told me this morning she wanted a divorce as early as possible.

What I hadn’t realized was that it would be so cathartic. As the car takes me closer to her, the burning ache starts to slowly morph into resolution.

When have you ever given up so easily, Charles?

All your life you’ve been trained to turn things around in your favor.

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