Page 12 of Impending Consent

“Then what’s the problem? The man is fine, sex is great, and he agreed to marry you. Sounds like a marriage made in heaven.”

“I don’t want to be married is the problem.” I sighed. Marriage meant being committed. Fully exposing yourself, your flaws, your emotions. I wasn’t sure I could do any of those things. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any of those things and especially not with a man like Rival. The assured way he had it all together was intimidating. I was a well-dressed mess. Sure I was a successful attorney, beautiful and intelligent, but emotionally I was lacking.

“Talk to your father. I’m sure he’ll find a way out of this for you, if you can’t do it yourself. Are you forgetting what’s most important here? You don’t lose, Sail, that’s your thing, remember? Give it some time, if you married him and had no intention of remaining married to the guy, you had to have a back up plan to get you out of this.”

I don’t lose.I was seriously regretting asserting that so much to anyone who would listen.

She had, however, singled out my issue. I didn’t have an out or a backup plan with this marriage. I was seriously beginning to believe that for the first time in my life, I was going to fail, and when I did, it was going to ruin me. This marriage, this man, was going to be my downfall. It shouldn’t be but I felt it in the pit of my stomach.

“It’s late, I should go.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

I was already over people asking me that, because no, I was not fucking okay.

“Yep, perfectly fine. Just need to figure out how to get rid of my husband.”

I lifted from the sofa and Lorraine stilled. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

I sputtered a laugh. “I’m not gonna kill the guy. By getting rid of him, I mean legally detaching myself. That’s all.”

She grinned and nodded. “I’m still going to pretend you didn’t say that, just in case.”

I frowned a bit. “Yeah, maybe you should.”

She walked me to the door and I took the elevator up to my place, dropped my things on the sofa, and headed to my room. Once I stripped out of my clothes, I showered and climbed in bed naked after digging Hippo out of the closet, feeling the weight of the past twenty-four hours. At least she could bring me comfort. My secret weighted friend had seen better days but she was the only person I was completely open with.

“Shit, friend. I messed up really fucking bad this time. We’re in trouble.” I held her to my chest and the heaviness of my bad decisions washed over me. By the time my head completely sank into the pillow, I was drifting, deciding I’d deal with my husband and our sham of a wedding tomorrow. Tonight, I needed sleep.

Chapter 4

Rival.

I entered Sailor’s apartment at seven twenty-five a.m. Her alarm would be set for seven thirty unless something had changed. Regardless of whether or not she was going into the office. Sailor was militant about her routines. She was up by seven thirty every morning which I knew because two weeks into the project I was doing for Sailor, I’d added an extra job I worked in the evening.

In order to complete hers on time, I needed to get started early. When I mentioned being there by six, she offered a code to enter her apartment since she didn’t wake until seven thirty. For two weeks her routine was the same: wake at seven thirty, hit the bathroom, then make coffee, which she drank on the sofa while watching the morning news.

The code no longer worked but the key she handed over after we were married did. I let myself in, armed with coffee, a honey rye bagel and mango vanilla cream cheese from the café in her building. Another thing Sailor was predictable with. I’d heard her order it multiple times and hum her approval while she indulged.

I placed everything on the kitchen table and settled into one of the chairs, waiting. By seven forty-five my wife was shuffling out of her bedroom, hair all over her head, wearing a sweatshirt three sizes too big, legs exposed to the calves which were covered with thick, ivory, cable knit sock slippers. She rubbed her eyes and yawned midway, bringing a smile to my face.

This was the Sailor I loved most, when she was unguarded, in her natural state, and relaxed. Even with her hair sticking in every direction she looked so fucking beautiful. She moved right past me. Granted she didn’t have the best vantage point based on the angle at which she entered the kitchen but when she extended an arm to reach for the expensive and very complicated coffee machine on her counter I let my presence be known.

“Dark roast, shot of espresso, almond milk with raw sugar and cinnamon.”

She almost jumped out of her skin before she spun on her heels in search of the person speaking. When I had her full attention, I removed the coffee from the cardboard holder and extended it to her.

Sailor’s beautiful brown eyes narrowed but she didn’t say a word. Just glared at me in a way that threatened death. I elected to keep things casual when I was sure she was plotting my untimely demise in that pretty little bed mussed head of hers. “You missed dinner.”

“It’s impossible to miss something you had no intention of entertaining.” Her eyes narrowed, more in an effort to clarify what she had no intention of entertaining wasn’t just the dinner but me.

“Did you read the prenuptial agreement?”

“Yes.”

“And you found the email from VirtualLoveLast?”

“Sure did.”

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