Page 71 of Perfectly Wedded

I straighten, so I can see her eyes. “I thought you’d only agree if there was a reason. If it was part of the charade.”

“Is there a reason now?” she asks, bewildered.

My hands cup her face. “Is it enough that you’re the only woman for me?”

She leans forward and answersyeswitha kiss, her warm mouth on my lips, her body pressed to mine.

Everything feels likeyeswith her.Likeit’sthe way it’s supposed to be. Husband and wife, light and heat, while the whole world fades into night. I feel like I’ve swallowed a torch, my body lit from flame and heat.

We still haven’t made it clear what the future holds or how long she wants me in her life as her husband.

I’ve already made my decision.

She is my endgame.My wife.

I pull back, bracing her shoulders. “As much as I wantyou—and in case it’s not clear, Ireallywant you right now—there’s something else I need to tell you. I want this to be real.Us,together, as husband and wife. I told you I’d hold to the marriage rules, but this is not an act.” My voice frays. “I’m not good at pretending with you. When I kiss you, I’m doing it because I want you. More than anything, I want to be married to you... but I’m also terrible at reading your mind and knowing if you feel the same. If what you want isus.”

She takes my wrists, draws circles on the insides with her thumbs. “I know you’re what I want. And that I want to take things slow and figure it out. Even if that’s hard for me to do.”

I blink, recalibrate how this is going to work since my heart is bucking in my chest. “Take it slow. Figure it out,” I repeat, wondering if I’ve pushed too fast, too hard. “Whatever it takes for you not to give up on us.”

I slide back, giving her space, but she grasps my wrists. “That’s not what I meant.” She shakes her head, thumbs circling again. “I have the tendency to panic when things get hard. I run away, make rash decisions. But when it comes to you, everything in me wants to move fast. To lose myself in you. To fall hard and swift and give everything to you. And that scares me because that’s what happened with Anthony. When he didn’t stay, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I want to take things slowly so I don’t make the same mistakes, to learn how to stick around for the long haul, and stay instead of running away. But just because I need to take things slow, doesn’t mean I don’t want us.”

I nod, my voice scraping. “I know I’m not who you pictured yourself with. I’m nothing like Anthony. I don’t care what people think of me, except for you. Even though we’re really different, I won’t give up on us. So if you need me to go, to give you space tonight to think?—”

“Vale,” she cuts me off. “Don’t go.” She stills, her thumbs resting on the inside of my wrists. “I don’t need to think about it anymore. You told me you’re not staying in my bedroom until Iask you. Until I’m no longer afraid of what might happen between us.”

I wrap my arms around her, tugging her closer. The moment feels full, like any second the glass might overflow.

“This is me asking. Will you stay tonight?” Her hands climb to the back of my neck, stroke the curve of my shoulder. “I want you to hold me. As my husband.”

I touch her chin, brush my thumb over her lips before answering, “Anything for my wife.”

TWENTY-THREE

Sloan

I’ve never slept so well as last night. Vale holding me all night was tender, satisfying, better than all the dreams I’ve ever had.And perhaps highly unusual since nothing beyond that happened. But I’ve never fit in with the usual standards of how to do things, especially not when it comes to love. My life has been a series of missteps, of figuring out what works for me. It’s part of my quirkiness, and maybe my superpower, to think outside the box, doing things backward: marriage first, then the real relationship.

But in this case, it’s also my guardrail. Taking things slow will give me time to figure things out, to finally prove to myself I’m not who everyone says.Not the impulsive one who runs off to the next thing.Not the one making hasty decisions, then regretting them. The only reason I stayed with Anthony is I thought I could be different. What he needed me to be. I never had feelings for him the way I do for Vale.

I hadn’t seen it before, but Anthony leaving me was a small mercy. Because it’s what led me to Vale.

Back then, I was broken in so many ways, but that didn’t stop Vale from seeing past the mess. It’s madness, really, but love can be like that—it makes no sense in the moment.

If we’re taking things slow, then rushing into a physical relationship before we’ve even defined our relationship would be like diving off a cliff before checking the depth of the water below.

Insanity.

I’ve already made a mess of things. I rushed into marriage to solve one problem, only to create a dozen more.

Even knowing that, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. I still want to dive right into Vale’s arms. But behind this feeling ofnothing could go wrong nowis a tiny niggling doubt that I can’t put my finger on. Maybe it’s because I’ve been hit by too many hard things, like waves battering the shore: Mom dying, Dad remarrying and then divorcing, a car accident and brain injury, the breakup with Anthony, and then a relapse.

Life has taught me that love doesn’t protect you from hard things. It doesn’t shelter you from the storm. Instead, the torrents will come, pummeling you in a thousand small ways, and it’s love that buoys you, keeps you from going under, gives you reason to hold on.

I roll over in bed, stretching my arm across the silky smooth cotton, reaching for Vale. My hand lands on an empty pillow.

“Vale?” I call sleepily.

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