Page 21 of Innocent Union
“It’s happening,” Antonio says. “Mia and Killian will marry. I think it’ll benefit all of us,” he adds with a pointed stare at Mom.
“Since it doesn’t matter what I want, fine,” she says. “Mia will marry Killian.” She shoots a glare at him. “You better treat my daughter right.”
“Cross my heart,” Killian responds, doing just that.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” Mom says, leaving the room.
Cecilia turns to me. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“You got your happy ending,” I snap. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
Without a word, Cecilia gets up and leaves, and Theo shoots me a look. “You can be nicer, you know.” He follows Cecilia.
Feeling properly chastised, I leave the room, too, but Killian follows me.
“Hey, you ok?” he asks.
“Why did you agree to marry me?”
Killian rubs the back of his neck. “Because I like you, Mia. And as Antonio said, it would be a good political move for us.”
“Why do you like me?”
“Because you’re cute. Does there need to be any other reason?”
I blush at his words. No man has ever told me I’m cute before. But despite Killian sounding so confident about it, I struggle to believe him. “I’m not cute. Just … plain.”
He leans in closer to me. “You’re cute.”
I step back despite how much I want to lean into him. “So, where do we go from here?”
“I guess we have a wedding to plan.”
“Do … do we exchange numbers or something?”
He chuckles. “Do you want to exchange numbers.”
“I mean, if you want to.” God, I feel like an utter idiot.
Killian leans back in toward me, and this time, I force myself to stay put. “Ok. We can change exchange numbers.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, handing it over to me. I plug in my number, feeling like an excited schoolgirl with a crush. I went to an all-girls high school, so I never really had crushes on boys back then.
When Killian takes his phone back, he smiles wide. “Looking forward to your call.” With a wink, he leaves the house.
I’m left standing there in complete and utter shock. What just happened?
I’m getting married to Killian—that’s what.
I am not preparedfor planning a wedding. I don’t even know where to start.
So, I ask my mom the next morning. But she’s no help when she tells me, “I don’t want any part of this.”
“But I don’t know what to do. Flowers? Cake? Dress? There’s so much. How did you plan parties so fast?”
“Because I’ve been doing it for years,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder before she begins to cook breakfast.
“So, then, help me.”
“No. I won’t give Killian the satisfaction.”
