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“We went to the chapel, we picked out rings, but it wasn’t a legal marriage.” My chin quivers for some inexplicable reason.
“And why does that upset you?” Max asks. “Did you want to marry him?”
Did I want to? Did I head to Vegas intending to come home married to Victor Varg? Of course not. Except…
Except when I saw the ring, it wasn’t the prospect of being married that horrified me. It was the potential impact it would have on my job. My career. Moving Vic in with me wasn’t a hardship. Having him here, in my space, has been fun. It’s nice to share my home with someone I don’t need to take care of. Vic washes his own laundry, makes the bed, cleans toilets. He cooks.
“Do you want to benotmarried to him?” My brother winces. “You know what I mean.”
I think of that torturous ride back to the apartment. The hollow silence between us after I opened my big mouth and mentioned divorce. The fear that ate through my spinal cord when I thought he wanted out.
“Okay, so she wants to be married to him,” Palmer says, “But he still lied about it.”
“Motivation,” Hayley says. “Why would he lie about being married?”
“What did he say when he told you?” Joey.
“He said ‘we aren’t married. Not legally.’”
“No, you dummy. What did he say when he lied and told you were married?”
That gives me pause. I’m not sure I remember. It must have been when we woke up in his hotel room… except it wasn’t, because I fled like my ass was on fire. To be fair, if I knew then what I know now—about Vic’s sexual talents—I probably would have stayed and made us late for the bus.
I made it to the lobby without noticing. Oakes bought me a drink—no. Vic did. Robbie picked it up—and then I noticed? No. Robbie wanted to talk to me. Weird. When I first started working with the guys, Robbie Oakes set up a meeting specifically to tell me he was not a fan of social media and while he was willing to work with me, he was not going to “shake his ass” for the internet or the team. Robbie didn’t tell me either.
I noticed… when the team did.
“He didn’t actually tell you at all, did he?” Max grins at me as I rifle through my memories. “That’s fantastic. Man, he’s good.”
“Good?” Madison shrieks the word, scaring Hela off her perch. “It’s still lying.”
“He apologized,” I say, but they don’t hear me. I barely hear me.
“Is a lie of omission really the same thing?” Joey asks and three yeses chirp back at her. “Okay,” the baby regroups, “maybe this situation is a big deal, but overall? I don’t think they’re exactly the same.”
“Listen, miss philosophy,” Palmer says, “let’s save this conversation for another day. Okay? Right now, we’re educating Max that our darling fake brother-in-law is a lying bastard.”
“Wait a minute,” Max crosses his arms across his chest. “Let’s be realistic here. What are the odds that our darling big sister didn’t give him much of a chance? No offense, Tris.”
“That’s not exactly her fault,” Madison points out. “The tabloids had the news by the next morning.”
“And what was he supposed to do after that?” Max has the same look on his face when he knocks a pitch out of the field. Smug satisfaction. “As far as the world was concerned, they were hitched.”
I feel like I’m at a play, watching the actors on stage volley quick lines back and forth. I’m literally just a spectator in my own apartment, watching my sisters and my brother debate the actions of my husband—No, fake husband.
“So that absolves him, then? He doesn’t have to tell her?”
But he did tell me, I remind Madison.
She raises one dark eyebrow at me. “You said he told you he didn’t fuck you.”
Not for the first time, I wonder if I need to share less of my personal life with my siblings.
“Technically, that’s another plus,” Max says with a shrug. “Not taking advantage of you and all that, since he thought you were drunk.”
“Drunk?” Palmer gives me a look. “Do we need to have a talk about responsible fun?”
Technically, I was high, too, but I don’t think sharing that tidbit will help in this situation. In fact, hadn’t I been pissed off that he’d married me even though he thought I was too out of it to have sex? I’d been mad that he hadn’t taken care of me. Turns out he had. The whole time.
