Page 53 of War

My heart sinks. Pathetic. The man couldn’t be bothered to remember the name he spoke aloud only a moment ago.

Tyler’s chair makes a squeak as he pushes it back, and then once again, he’s holding his hand out to me. “Ready?”

That’s it? We’re just…done?

While heat builds behind my eyes, I follow him out of the room andto the exit. I realize he’s got a plane to catch, but it all feels so impersonal.

He feels impersonal. Like the man I’ve known him to be for the last few years. War.Not Tyler.

God, how could I have been foolish enough to think things had changed? Thathehad changed. Maybe he’s that man for the kids, but when it’s just us, it’s better if I remember that this is who he is.

As Tyler pulls the door open, the winter breeze rushes in, bringing with it a few flurries.

I tighten my cream coat, only now realizing that I never even took it off for the “ceremony.” So much for worrying about what I was wearing today. Tyler will never even see the dress.

“They didn’t even sayyou can now kiss the bride,” I mutter as we shuffle out of the building without so much as a picture to commemorate the occasion.

“Yeah, he seemed a little preoccupied,” Tyler says as he pulls out his phone and buries his face in it.

The justice of the peace isn’t the only one who’s preoccupied, it seems.

“Well, I guess that’s it.” Swallowing past the emotion lodged in my throat, I dig my phone out of my coat pocket and navigate to the Uber app. Might as well go to work from here. I took the day off since I was getting freaking married, but it looks as though I was wrong to think the occasion would be worth any kind of celebration.

“Wait, sorry.” He slips his phone into his pocket and fixes his attention on me. Finally. “Just wanted to confirm that your ride was here.”

“Oh, I was just setting up an Uber.” I hold up my phone and give it a little shake. “I hope you have a great trip, though. I’ll make sure to have the kids call, or you can just call whenever you want to talk to them, I guess,” I stammer as awkwardness seeps in.

Tyler steps closer, ducking a little. “Bray has a phone. They normally use that to call.” He smiles. “Or Josie calls using Alexa.”

“Right.” I nod twice, unease still swirling inside me. “And…um. I-I know you normally go out after games”—I blow out a harsh breath as nerves skitter up my spine—“but if you could just be discreet about it.” With a breathy laugh, I shrug, my face hot with embarrassment and my gaze lowered to my hands. “Don’t want the judge to see pictures of you with other women and figure out this was all for show.”

“What?” Tyler grits out.

At his stern tone, my eyes snap up to his of their own accord. “I’m just saying. I?—”

He steps in so close I have to tip my head back to maintain eye contact. He’s breathing heavy, his jaw tight and his eyes murderous. “That may not have been the wedding you deserve, but make no mistake about it—you are very much my wife, and I take my vows seriously.”

“We didn’t make any vows,” I scoff, even as I’m still stuck on those two little words—my wife—and the possessive way they rolled off his tongue.

“Merde.” Breathing heavily, nostrils flaring, he slips a hand up the back of my neck. Then, tangling his fingers in my hair, he tugs so I’m forced to meet his eye again. “How about these, then?” He licks his lips. “I vow to be faithful to you and only you. For as long as we’re married, I won’t so much as look at another woman. I vow to put our family first, and that includes you, Vicious. You’re a Warren now. You’remy wife.”

My heart trips over itself, then takes off at breakneck speed in my chest. Did he really just?—

“Your turn,” he murmurs, his mouth inches from mine.

“My turn?”

“Yeah, Vicious. Cut me with your words. I dare you.”

“I thought?—”

“You thought wrong,” he all but growls. “Now do your little thing with your pinky. Hold it up and pinky promise me that you’ll be faithful. Promise me that I can get on that plane today, leave you with our kids for a week, and know that I’m the only one you’ll think about when you’re in our bed at night.”

His words almost knock me over right here on the courthouse steps. Where is this coming from? This feverish behavior. This possessiveness. And the pinky promise. It’s almost cute how he’s craving that from me.

Is he…? Could he be…? No, there’s no way my husband actually likes me, right?

Brows lowered, he shakes his head. “Is it really that hard to promise me fidelity?”

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