Page 61 of A Marriage of Anything But Convenience

He slowly nodded and rocked back on his heels. Then his head snapped up. “Hey, you can probably afford a better place in New York, now that you’ll get half my assets.”

She hadn’t thought about that. “Half your money?”

“Right.” He motioned to her. “I’m sure that’s what your father meant by us getting married anyway. So, you’ll be taken care of.”

A strange feeling snaked through her. “No, I don’t want to take half your assets. That’s totally not fair. We were only married for a week.”

“Right, but…your dad wanted—”

“My father released me from any obligation. I didn’t do this for the money. I want to make that perfectly clear to you. I don’t want your money.” She realized she was being loud, and lowered her voice. “This was never about the money.”

“I know.” He exhaled and scratched his chin. “It’s just that your father wants—”

“Derek,” she said, interrupting him again. “Listen. I don’t want your money. I don’t want my father’s money. I want to make it on my own. And if I have to live in a one-bedroom apartment in the dumpiest part of town, I’ll do it.” She set her jaw. “Because that’s what I want.”

“Wasn’t your father paying your rent when you lived in New York?”

“Yes, until he withheld it so I would cave and marry you. Don’t you see? If I accept your money, or his money, I’ll never really be free, will I? I’ll be a puppet. I don’t want that anymore.”

“Is that what you think? That I’d only pay you if you did what I wanted?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. But don’t you see how it could become that? So easily.” She stood and stepped toward him. “I’ll be okay. Let me do this on my own. All right?”

He dropped his gaze and nodded. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s what I want.”

She’d said the words with conviction, but an unease spread through her as she left the kitchen. She was going back to New York, to make it on her own. Why didn’t that bring her the happiness she thought she’d have?

Chapter 28

Derek paced the kitchen floor as Nara packed her clothes in the bedroom upstairs. She was leaving, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Brielle walked in and opened the cupboard, rummaging. “Hey,” she said as she tossed him a cursory glance.

“Hey,” he said back.

Brielle apparently found the coffee mug she was looking for because she pulled out a black one with gold lettering on it. He didn’t have a black mug. She must have brought it with her.

She placed it under the Keurig machine and grabbed a K-cup. When she looked at him again, she froze. “What’s up with you? You look like a zombie.”

That fit. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. “Nara’s leaving.”

“Like, on a trip?”

Guilt slithered through him. He was going to have to confess to Brielle. That stunk. “No. Like, leaving. For good.”

Her eyes widened and she staggered before grabbing onto the counter. “Wait, what? Leaving you? As in, you’re broken up?”

He sighed and plopped down on a kitchen stool. “We never were together,” he mumbled, his chest feeling hollow.

Brielle’s eyebrows pulled together. “You never were together? What does that even mean? Are you saying you lied about getting married?”

The way she was looking at him made him feel like scum. He shook his head. “No. We really got married.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.” She shoved in the K-cup and pressed the button to start her coffee.

Derek would rather eat rat poison, but he already started to confess. He couldn’t stop now. “We got married, but it wasn’t real. It was a fake marriage to appease her father.”

“A fake marriage?”

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