Page 59 of Fair Trade
“Well, I am the one that’s easier to get along with.”
“I literally call you the devil.”
“Further proves my point that I’m the nice one.”
She rolls her eyes. “So what? We have to be friends now?”
“Oh, honey, we are well and far beyond that.” I raise my hand with the silver wedding band. “No, I fear it’s going to take drastic measures in order for this to work.”
She raises a suspicious brow. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“It’s simple, really.” I shrug. “You’re going to fall in love with me.”
twenty-seven
My flying heel barelymisses Nick as he ducks.
“Woman, are you mad? What the hell was that for?”
“I didn’t have a chancleta nearby, so a flying Louboutin will have to do.”
“I’m scared to ask any follow-up questions, but it seems to be pertinent that I understand why the flyingfuckI almost got a stiletto to the eye!” He points at his face.
“Because, Lucifer, you’re a self-centered, narcissistic, arrogant—”
“Angel, I hope you know those words all mean the same thing. If we’re going to fight, at least save us some time.”
I release an animalistic screech. “That right there.” I point at him. “You think I could so easily fall in love with someone like you? As if you could snap your fingers and I’d be writing hearts around your name?”
“Of course not.” He runs a hand down his tie. “I’d much prefer for you to scream my name while—”
“Stop.” I raise my hands. “Just stop talking. Nothing good happens when you do.” I pace back and forth. “I don’t know how the thought weaseled its way into your brain, but I suggest you swiftly remove it. Because I, Luisa Álvarez, will not be falling in love with you. Ever. So we’re going to have to work on our acting skills and rely on them to get us by for the next year.”
“Fine.”
“Great.”
“Splendid.”
“Great.”
“You already said that.”
“Shut up.”
“Aw, c’mon, look at us. I think we just survived our first fight as husband and wife. What do you say we celebrate by getting naked?” He winks.
And for the second time tonight, a shoe flies through the air, but this time, it hits its mark.
twenty-eight
I married Nicholas fuckingStonehaven.
Those words play on a loop in my head as I look down at the glittering wedding band covered in diamonds on my left ring finger.
The party is over, and the last of the guests have left Nick’s home.
Our homefor the next year.
