Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol) - Page 17

“It doesn’t matter if we were sober or not,” I bit out.

“Uhh, yeah, it does. I’m pretty sure there’s a law about it. Actually, I don’t think they’re supposed to let us get married if we’re intoxicated at all. The Elvis guy could probably get sued.”

She explained it away like it was his fault and not hers—like she didn’t make the decision, so she shouldn’t have to face the consequences. And when did marrying me become such a consequence?

My phone pinged from under the pile of my clothes. Needing a distraction, I grabbed it and immediately regretted it.

Gma: I didn’t know you were serious with Raelynn. I’m not mad you didn’t tell us, especially since you two look so happy. Call us when you get a chance so we can congratulate you both.

Mother fuck. How did she know?

I scrolled up to see if I sent anything, but the last message was about Nova’s wedding. Swiping through my phone, I saw the massive amount of notifications on one of the apps, and it hit me.

Already dreading what I knew I would find, I opened Instagram.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“What?” she asked distractedly, too caught up in her escape.

“You posted to Instagram.”

“No,” she breathed, falling back to her butt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “No, no, no.”

She grabbed her phone, and I switched apps. “And TikTok.”

As soon as I tapped the square, Rae’s horrible singing voice filled the room. “Going to the chapel, and we’re—” She broke to giggle when I picked her up to carry her inside. “Gonna get ma-a-a-a-rried.”

The video cut off just as she looked to me, and I looked at her. I must have been drunk because, in that small glimpse, I saw all the love I’d been holding back pour out with one look.

She played the video, and I waited for her to see the end and know, but instead, all I got was another pained groan. “Fuck.”

“My grandparents know.”

I didn’t need to explain more—she knew what my family meant to me, but I knew she planned to ignore it when she refused to look up.

“We can explain what happened. They’ll understand.”

“No.” The word tumbled so easily from my lips without pause. I always said yes to Rae, but not this.

Her head shot up; her brows pinched in confusion. “No?”

“No. I can’t. I—I can’t get a divorce.”

“It’s not a divorce. It’s just an annulment.”

The tension squeezed tighter and tighter, pushing me to the limits. No amount of slow deep breaths could keep me from the edge. “No,” I said harder. “I can’t.”

“Austin, we are not staying married.”

Her voice hardened like mine, and it was the final straw.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be married.”

“At all? Or just to me?”

“What?”

“C’mon, Rae.” My voice softened with the challenge, baiting her to react. “Which is it?”

Her mouth opened and closed, searching for words that never came. My lip curled into a sneer the longer she struggled. She met my eyes, and there was no hiding the piece of me I kept under lock and key. She took her time studying my face like she’d never seen me before, and I hated it.

Finally, she shook her head and laughed. “I’m not doing this. I’m getting dressed and calling my lawyer.”

“No,” I said again, standing my ground as she scrambled around for her clothes. “I’m not agreeing to this.”

“Tough shit, Austin. It. Was. A. Mistake,” she snapped, showing me a side of her I’d never seen directed at me.

It shouldn’t have bothered me, but she threw that word in my face again. Mistake. A part of me screamed to stop. A part of me wondered if I was still drunk, but all I could see was her laughing and calling me a mistake—not just the wedding. That part of me won. “Then maybe you should act mature enough to accept the consequences for once in your life.”

She froze before slowly turning away from her task and facing me with narrowed eyes. Her whole body pulled tight like an animal ready to pounce. “What?”

The snap of her t only served to add fuel to the flames, and I used a dangerous tone of my own to match hers. “For once, just deal with your decisions and stop expecting everyone else to cater to what you want to fix it.”

She took a step forward, her anger much bigger than her small frame. “Excuse. Me?”

“Marriage may be a joke to you. Something you can erase away with enough money, but it means a hell of a lot more than that to me. Don’t you dare assume I’ll cater to your whim when marriage and having a wife means something to me.”

“Oh, all of a sudden, you care about a wife. You fuck random women all the time.”

“I didn’t fuck you. Hell, you married me, and I still wouldn’t fuck you like all the other guys do.” Like a slow-burning firework, I ignited and whispered into the sky, making you wait for the explosion.

Tags: Fiona Cole Erotic
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