Page 99 of Impending Consent

"What is this?" I whispered even though I knew exactly what it was. My hands froze and I felt lightheaded.

"A marriage license," my father replied calmly. "For your husband and a woman who is not you."

"Where did you get this?" I asked, still staring at the document with a familiar signature that belonged to the man I just committed my heart to.

"I did some digging. Something you should have done before entering into this arrangement." He pulled back a chair and sat across from me. "Did he tell you about her?"

I shook my head but kept quiet, unable to form words as my world tilted on its axis.

My father placed another file on the desk. "Armesa Taylor. Thirty-four. Defense attorney with Jenkins, Howard, and Beck. Very successful. Graduated top of her class from Howard Law. Known for her aggressive courtroom tactics and impressive win record."

I flipped through the new file and stared at a professional headshot of a woman with brown skin, an arrogant smile, andhair an inch off her shoulders and styled just like mine. She looked confident, beautiful, and very similar to me.

"This can't be a coincidence, Sailor," my father continued, his voice gentler now and showing concern. "Your husband's previous engagement to a woman whose career and personal profile mirror yours is not just coincidental? The rushed marriage and tactical prenuptial arrangement aren’t the actions of a man who stumbled into love. These are calculated moves."

I would agree but the prenup wasn’t his idea, it was mine, to further convince him that I was serious about a bullshit marriage but I couldn’t focus on that…

"He never mentioned being engaged before and this…” I tapped the marriage license. "This isn't a completed document. It was never filed."

"Because she was smarter than you," my father said bluntly. "She probably backed out before it was too late. The prenup wasn't just about winning your heart, Sailor. This man has a type. Ambitious black female attorneys seem to be his preference. This is a pattern."

"You don't know that.” Doubt was already creeping in.

"Consider the evidence. The rushed nature of your wedding. His persistence in maintaining the marriage despite its irregular beginning. His refusal to accept an annulment or divorce. He saw an opportunity with you, a woman similar to the one who got away, and he took it."

I felt sick. Had it all been a lie? A calculated effort to secure what he failed to get from Armesa?

"Why are you showing me this?" I already knew the answer.

"Because you're my daughter and I love you. You deserve to make informed decisions about your life and I know you’ve opened your heart to this man. I fear you're being manipulated."

He stood, buttoning his suit jacket. "Think about it, Sailor. Talk to him if you must but go in with your eyes open."

He left, closing the door quietly behind him. I sat frozen in place, staring at the documents spread across my desk feeling like the floor had dropped out from beneath me.

I didn't know how long I sat there before a knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts and Skylar poked her head in. She frowned when she saw my face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, closing the door behind her. "You feel okay?"

I pushed the files toward her and she quickly scanned them then frowned at me.

"Dad brought these to you?" she guessed and I nodded. "Sail, this doesn't mean?—"

"Doesn't mean what? That my husband was engaged to another woman who could be my professional doppelgänger? He kept this from me while encouraging me to open up, trust him, and believe in our future?"

"You don't know the whole story. You need to talk to Rival before jumping to conclusions."

His mother’s words resurfaced, taking on a new meaning.

“I wasn’t so sure, all things considered. The contrast with the two of you. I felt like he was setting himself up for a repeat of a broken heart.”

"I need to know exactly what I'm dealing with first." I was already pulling up my laptop.

"Sail, don't?—"

I ignored my sister and typed Armesa Taylor's name into the search bar. Within minutes I had the professional profile for the woman up, followed by her social media accounts.

The similarities were undeniable. She specialized in criminal defense just like me, was known for her aggressive approach in the courtroom, and even shared my obsession with expensive shoes based on her Instagram posts.

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