Matthias pulls an umbrella out and opens it, pulling me into him so I don’t get wet. I don’t care if I show up at the apartment soaking wet, I just want to get there.
“Wait,” I say suddenly. “Where are you going?”
He cocks his head to the side. “With you, of course. You said Jackson has to be at the rehab facility at two.”
“I said I have to get him there,” I narrow my eyes, unsure of what his play is. “I don’t need you to come with us, Matthias. More than that, I don’twantyou to.”
He steps closer, crowding me backward. I plant my feet, refusing to let him see any weakness. “You almost fainted back there, Wy. I’m not letting you out of my sight just yet. Besides, I’m not sure that claptrap you call a car can even make the drive.”
How does he know what I drive? Has he been spying on me? “It’ll be fine.”
“No.” A gleaming town car pulls up at the curb behind Matthias, a driver stepping out. “That vehicle is not safe for either you or Jackson. You’ll travel with me.”
The thought of being in the same car as him for the four-hour round trip makes me want to vomit.Better get used to it. You’ll be living in the same house as him for the next year. We’ll be so fucking close.
“I don’t want to go with you.”
“And I don’t care,” Matthias growls, attempting to tower over me. “You’ll get in that car, Wyatt, or I’ll put you in there myself. You’re my husband now. I’ll make sure you’re safe, whether you like it or not.”
I grind my teeth together, seriously debating if I could fight him off if he follows through on his threat. The old me wouldn’t have had an issue. I’m the same height as Matthias, but not the same build. Not any longer.
“Fine,” I snarl, storming past him to the waiting car. “But not because you told me to. Because I want to.”
Matthias’s low chuckle skitters over my skin as he joins me. “Keep telling yourself that, husband.”
6
WYATT
The drive to the rehab passed quicker than I thought it would. I sat next to Jackson, who glowered at Matthias witheringly for most of the journey. Fortunately, he doesn’t recognize him, not from my engagement party, or from…before. Jackson’s too young to know what kind of past I share with him.
Our friendship existed on the neutral ground between our homes—where Matthias wasn’t one of the Buckinghams, and I wasn’t a child with drug-addled parents.
“You sure you want to do this?” Jackson asked me when I got him situated in the rehab facility. It was far nicer than I expected, with state-of-the-art equipment and a spa. I’m pretty sure the restaurant we passed was Michelin-rated.
“Yeah. I regret nothing,” I tell him, hugging him tightly and sniffling loudly when I finally walk away, leaving Jackson to heal.
It’s the first time we’ve been apart since his accident. Even just after it happened, I slept on the floor of his hospital room.
I’m not sure how I’m going to cope. Maybe it’s a good thing that I have this clusterfuck of a situation to distract me.
“He’ll be well taken care of,” Matthias says, and I just glower at him. Of course he will. That’s not what I’m struggling with. Anything is better than what my parents did…what I managed to do while we lived in that run-down, moldy apartment.
Everything is so different now, I muse as we take the turn toward Matthias’s home. My brows shoot up as we pause by a gatehouse with a barrier. A man inside holding a gun nods at Matthias and waves us through.
What the fuck is that about?
The car follows a wide drive, bright flowers lining the way. It looks light and airy, even through the rain, so different from the musty apartment Jackson and I shared. Even better than the apartment I had with Jen.
My hands are fisted on my thighs, the long drive to the house ominous. This is the beginning of the end for the next year.
With him.
My husband.
“You can wipe that glare off your face. You make this seem like it’s the end of the world, but it’s not.”
They’re the first words he’s spoken since I said goodbye to Jackson. “We’re not in public now, Matthias. You can control my mood then, but not when we’re in private.”