“Remember what I told you about Vegas? How I thought he proposed to me that night?”
“Then you came to your senses the next morning.” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You made the right choice to walk away. You told me yourself that the two of you can’t be together.”
I nod. “The thing is . . . I woke up with his ring on my finger and thought I’d agreed to marry him, but I was wrong. He didn’t propose that night.” I let my gaze shift to the marriage certificate sitting on the counter. I brought it home from work, and now I’m not sure what to do with it.
Julian turns to try to see what I’m looking at, but it’s not legible from here. “What is it?”
“I married Marston Rowe.” I hate myself for every bit of shock, horror, and hurt that crosses over his beautiful features. “That’s a copy of our marriage certificate from Vegas.”
He strides to the counter and picks up the paper, studying it like it’s one of his real-estate contracts.
“He thought I knew.”
Julian drags a hand through his hair. “You don’t even remember that night. How do you know he didn’t drug you and drag you into some seedy wedding chapel?”
“Because Marston wouldn’t do that.” I’ve been honest with Julian about my history with Marston and about everything we went through together. Julian should know Marston’s not that kind of man, so the implication irks me a little.
Julian ignores this and pulls out his phone, tapping quickly on the screen. “It only takes thirty-one days to get an uncontested divorce in Georgia. Looks like most divorces are settled in sixty days, so we’ll be well under that if we pull some strings to move things through faster.” He lifts his head and gives me a tender smile. “We can fix this.”
“He kissed me,” I blurt. “Last night and again this morning.”
At this, he freezes, his whole body tensing and his jaw going tight. “And did you kiss him back?” he asks, his voice deadly soft.
“No. Of course not. I’m marrying you. He just . . . did it, and I wouldn’t feel right not telling you.”
“That motherfucker,” he mutters. He drops the paper and his phone and comes back to slide his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest. Normally, this is comforting, but right now, his arms feel like a cage. “Jesus. You scared me. I was worried for a minute this was making you have second thoughts about our wedding.”
I squeak. I was way past second thoughts before Marston showed up, and Julian knows it. He had to campaign hard to talk me into this marriage, and while I haven’t shared every moment of panic with him, I have kept him up with my fears and doubts. “I mean, I can’t get married if I already am, but we just have to figure out what the next steps are.”
“We’ll work on this together. Call your dad’s lawyer. I bet he knows someone who can push the paperwork or whatever through quickly.” He buries his face in my hair and draws in a long, ragged breath. “Scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
He grips my shoulders as he pulls back. “Have you said anything to Cami?”
“What? No. Of course not.” I shake my head. “I’m still trying to make sense of my thoughts.”
His shoulders sag. “Okay. I’ll do a little research today, and we’ll make a plan over lasagna and wine.”
“Over salad and water for me. Gotta fit into that wedding dress.” I force a cheerful grin and hope it hides my doubts. As in, will we be able to fix this fast enough that there’ll still be a dress to fit into?
“Tell me Trainer Matt goes away after the wedding,” he says.
I smile. “Of course. I’m not going to be the woman who gets up at four a.m. for personal training for the rest of her life.”
“Good. Because feeding you is in my vows, and I won’t let anyone stand in the way of those.” He gives me one final kiss, and we both know he’s not just talking about Matt.
Chapter Four
Brinley
October 20th, before
My favorite time of the week is the time I get with Marston. It doesn’t happen as often as I’d like, but moments with him still feel like a breath of fresh air after years of being trapped underground.
We have to be creative when we see each other. Sometimes we go to Lake Blackledge, sometimes we hike, and sometimes we drive out of town—miles away and back in the same night just so we can eat dinner or go to the park someplace where we’re free to talk and hold hands. It took some convincing to get Marston to drive my car, but mine is better than his, and the highway doesn’t scare him like it does me.