Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 200280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1001(@200wpm)___ 801(@250wpm)___ 668(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1001(@200wpm)___ 801(@250wpm)___ 668(@300wpm)
Sitting at the dining table, she barely lifts her head from the grocery list she’s making. “Sign what?”
Standing over her, I clench my teeth. “These papers.”
“What papers?” she asks. Then, to her herself, “Wait, do we have that tomato sauce you like? Or are we all out?”
“I —”
“You know what, let me go check and —”
She’s about to get up from the table when I stop her, my voice more severe than I want it to be. “You can check later. Just sign the fucking papers.”
She finally looks up, her frown in place. “That was very rude. I’m doing it for you. Because if I use a different kind of tomato sauce for the pasta, you get all snippy and fussy.”
I do not get snippy and fussy.
For anything.
Ever.
But I don’t want to argue with her right now when I’m already on edge and shaking with impatience. “It’ll take two seconds. Then you can go back to making all the fucking lists you want.”
Her frown only grows. “What are these papers exactly?”
“Insurance.”
“What?”
I exhale sharply. “I want you on it. On my medical insurance. So I had my manager get the paperwork started. And he needs your signature before filing it.”
I hate that I’m lying to her.
Or rather, not telling her the whole truth. Because there are indeed insurance papers in the bundle that I’ve given her. It’s just that there’s something else in there too.
Her face softens and she presses a hand on her still flat belly. “For her?”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Why does she have to be so goddamn beautiful?
So heartbreakingly beautiful.
Her blue-gray eyes are shining and there’s a rosy flush on her cheeks. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy knot like it usually is by dinnertime with a few tendrils of hair teasing her neck.
And I don’t see any other way. I don’t see how my anger can be abated if I don’t do this.
I don’t see any other way to protect her either.
Glancing at her small hand on her tummy, my chest tightens and I rasp, “Yes.”
If possible, her face grows even softer. “Fine. Gimme.”
Before she can change her mind, I slide the papers toward her. She picks up her pen and signs on every page where I tell her to. And then it’s done.
Since I already roped in a couple of bought witnesses to sign the papers before, with her signature, the deed is fucking done.
She gets up from her chair then and flits over to the fridge, once again mumbling something about the sauce that I like. But I don’t hear her over the roar in my blood.
The thunder in my heart.
The ringing in my ears.
I can actually feel my restlessness, my jealously abating. The red leaches from my vision and I can finally see the world clearly. I can finally breathe.
The first free breath I’ve taken since I saw those texts.
Mine.
She’s mine.
Even though that’s not what this is about, I can’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction coursing through me. At the thought that Ezra can’t take her away from me. Her father can’t take her away from me. No one can.
No power on this earth or the sky.
Because now I’m standing between them and her and our baby.
Me.
Her husband.
And she’s my wife.
Part 4
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Are you okay?” I ask the dark interior as soon as the truck comes to a stop.
He doesn’t answer me however. He keeps gripping the wheel just as tightly as he’s been doing for the past hour, while driving all the way from the cabin to my brother’s house.
I don’t take offense at his silence though. I know there are various reasons for it.
First because I didn’t want him here in the first place.
We had an argument about it too, which he won obviously. And even though I’m secretly happy that he’ll be here with me — I’m going to need all the moral support that I can get tonight — I still think it would’ve been better if he’d stayed away.
For his sake I mean.
Because I’m going to tell my brother.
That I’m pregnant.
With the baby of the guy he’s hated for years.
Not to mention, this also means that by extension I will be telling my best friend as well. Who may or may not have a clue about my history of obsession with her brother.
Well, if she didn’t know before, she’ll know after tonight.
My brother will as well.
Because time has come to spill all my secrets when it comes to his high school rival.
Who still hasn’t spoken so I try again. “Ledger —”
He gets out of the truck then, cutting my words off. And I want to jump out as well but I know that will only piss him off — these days he gets really mad when I do things by myself, including putting away groceries or opening my own doors — so I wait for him to round the vehicle so he can do it for me.