Page 23 of Inappropriately Matched

“If it pleases you, may I be granted the privilege of a moment alone with my progenitor?”

What the fuck am I saying?

They don’t resist and instead take themselves out of the study. I have no idea what to do when they each kiss me on my cheek, and each one of them tells me this changes nothing.

Umm, hello, this changeseverything.

“I’m so happy, pumpkin—” My father says as soon as we’re alone.

“Are you happy because they’re stinking rich?”

“Oh, pumpkin. When did I ever say I wanted you to marry a rich man? I said befitting of your social rank. You needed someone compatible. Do you know why I needed to be involved when it came to choosing your husband? Because I needed to vet them first, I needed to make sure they were good enough for you, my little girl.

“That they would treat you like the princess you are. I... I’m ashamed to admit I didn't trust you to choose the right guy. What if he broke your heart? Only wanted your money. I would have to... well, your mother would have to come and visit me in prison.

“I believed I was a better judge of character than you. But I didn’t have to worry, after all. I see that now. I just needed to trust you. And yes, I know you run your matchmaking company, and you have an excellent success rate, and you could apply that to yourself. But I’m a man who needs to control the outcome. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

I allow my father’s words to settle in. Instinctively, I guess I always knew it wasn’t about control but overprotectiveness. I mean, that had always been my mom’s defense of him.

“Well, I was only looking at one husband, so I was wrong there already,” my father continues. “But those men you choose, Clementine...” he says, smiling brightly. “If I thought I was overprotective, it’s nearly nothing compared to what they feel about you. I know you will be taken care of, cherished, adored, and loved until the end of time, just like I love your mother.

“They love me?” I meant to ask that silently in my head, but the words fall from my mouth.

“Oh, pumpkin. Don’t you see it?” My father touches my face. “I love you, and I know you’re going to be happy forever.”

No, I’m not. I still have bones to pick with Holt, Steele, and Ryder for lying to me. I can see Honeypot’s face in my mind, telling me in no uncertain terms I made my own conclusions and jumped right in with them. Honeypot is always right.

Still. I can be mad.

After having a conversation with my mom, who makes an entrance ready to go to war against my father on my behalf, I make my exit from the Williams’ mansion.

And to think, I reprimanded them for hiring a chef to cook us a meal on the night we got married when they could have flown me across the world for Kobe steaks in Japan in their private jet. Ugh, I must have sounded like a clown.

I can’t go back to them now. Oh no. I left Honeypot at their house. Fine. I’ll collect her and sign divorce papers based on the grounds of irreconcilable difference, all on account of me being an idiot.

After I pick up Honeypot, I’m sending Tierney and Haley a string of fire emojis. Bring everything, including a bucket for my tears.

Did I really do something so stupid? Yes, yes, I did.

I stop dead in my tracks when I find them still waiting outside for me, lounging around their truck, with no care in the world.

They’re freaking billionaires. They’re everything I didn’t want. Because I wanted to prove a point to my father, except he proved a completely different one to me.

“Unfortunately for you, I left Honeypot at your house, so I’ll pick her up and arrange to have my things collected later on.”

“Get in the truck, Clementine,” Holt says. Steele opens the door for me.

“No. I have my own car, thank you very much. And you know what? I may have misjudged you, but you lied to me.”

“When?”

“What do you mean, when?”

“Did you ask us how much money we make?”

“No, but... your house....”

“We live there because it’s comfortable and reminds us of the woman who raised us.”

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