But I could make damn sure Everly never wanted for anything again. Not her. Not our children.
Physically. Emotionally. Permanently.
I just hoped she liked her surprise at the registry office.
It was a risk, I knew that. But I’d vetted every detail. Quiet. Discreet. We kept it small, neither of us wanted a long-windedevent. Fourteen guests. One photographer. I’d handled it in a matter of days.
I’d told her she’d be Mrs Voss in a week.
And I kept my promises.
I pinned the cream sprig onto my jacket and moved to the mirror, smoothing a hand through my hair and tilting my head side to side. No grey. Good. I wanted today to be perfect.
My gaze drifted around the bedroom.
Maybe it was time to sell the house.
Start fresh. Build something that belonged to us, not the ghost of a failed marriage.
Everly never complained—but it couldn’t be easy.
Not here. Not under this roof.
And I was done letting my past touch what was mine.
Eris was out on the streets where she belonged. She’d tried slithering past security at my building, tried charming reception like she hadn’t fucked her way through half her career, but everyone had been briefed months ago. No access. No exceptions.
If she pushed the issue, the next step was simple, to call the police.
She got the message quickly enough.
God, the look on her face when she’d walked in on me ploughing Everly’s ass that day—it replayed in my head more often than it should. My girl had performed beautifully. Screaming for me. Calling me her Daddy. I hadn’t planned it, but I couldn’t have scripted a better ending to Eris’s delusions.
I should have left the women alone to get ready.
Of course I didn’t.
I strode down the hall and knocked. The door cracked open only an inch before Connie’s unimpressed face filled the gap. Then another figure pushed forward—Everly’s friend from university. Together, they formed a barricade of feminine disapproval.
“Is Everly okay?” I asked, craning my neck like I might see past them.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Connie deadpanned, folding her arms.
“You look lovely, Connie,” I said, giving her pale blue dress an appreciative nod.
She didn’t blink. “Yeah, no. That’s not going to work. We’ll see you at the venue.”
Her friend grinned at me—teeth, dimples, and zero shame. She wore a dark navy top and skirt embroidered in gold, the matching scarf draped elegantly on her shoulder. Everly had told me she had two close friends: this one, Kiran, and another named Giselle, meeting us at the registry office.
“Fine,” I said loudly, raising my voice just enough for Everly to hear through the door. “I’ll see you soon, Everly.”
“Okay, go!” she shouted back, exasperated and adorable.
The door slammed shut with more force than necessary.
A deadbolt clicked.
I stared at the wood for a moment, then turned and walked off, fidgeting with my tie and exhaling a slow breath.
