But this is a gift I couldn’t have dreamed up if I tried. I have my “in” because she actually needs me. She needs to save face with her family, and I need more time to win back her heart. It’s perfect. It’s better than any pipe I could have burst or any hostage scheme I could have plotted. She’s, mostly, voluntarilywalking back into my orbit, and this time, I’m not letting her drift away.
I walk—hop—back to the kitchen island and take a seat. I'm watching the panicked flush on her neck as she stares at her phone like it has a detonation timer.
“How have you not told your mother about any of this?” I ask, my voice smooth while masking the triumph thrumming in my chest. “Most women can’t wait to tell their mum that they’ve tied the knot or whatever.”
Aspen lets out a breath that’s half-sigh, half-shudder. “That would usually be me, if anything about this was even close to normal. But my mother is convinced she’d have a dream about my husband before I even knew who he was. The fact that I’ve moved against her natural order of things is going to send her to the moon.”
I raise an eyebrow. “A dream, huh? Well, I hope I'm as handsome in her sleep as I am in person.”
“Please don’t joke about this! I’m freaking out.”
I gesture for her to come sit next to me, my voice dropping. “Don’t freak out.”
“Easier said than done,” she whispers, though she edges closer to me.
“If we’re being completely honest,” I say, watching her carefully, “I could use your help, too.”
Her head snaps toward me. “What kind of help?”
“Nothing tawdry or salacious, I can assure you.”
I have to be gentle here. Subtle. I need to phrase this perfectly so she doesn’t think I’m trying to manipulate her. I might be trying to manipulate her movements or her sleeping quarters, but never her heart. I’m a gentleman. I just need to exist in her space long enough for the static between us to clear so she can hear me.
“I just…” I continue, the words catching in my throat. “My family knows about you. About Vegas. But they don’t know how royally I screwed things up with you.”
Aspen arches a brow, her gaze cutting. “I’m glad you at least recognize the depth of the screw-up.”
“Ouch,” I wince, though I know I deserve it. “The point is, I’ve disappointed them enough this year. If they find out I sullied the sanctity of our marriage so soon after saying the vows, it’ll break them.”
I watch her expression soften, her defensive posture finally wavering. She gets it. Family pressure is a language we both speak fluently.
“And how am I supposed to help with that?” she asks warily.
Game on. “My mother’s birthday is coming up. My parents have asked me to bring my wife so they can finally meet her properly.”
“A party. All I have to do is attend a birthday party?”
I suppress a smile, wondering how to explain the marathon that is a Nigerian celebration. It’s an all-night event where women drop thousands of dollars on custom outfits just to outshine the guest of honor. “It’s a bit more than a traditional party. It’s sort of formal. I’d pay for your Aso ebi—”
“I’m sorry,” she interrupts, her eyes narrowing. “You’ll pay for my ass to what, now?”
I can’t help the genuine laugh that breaks through my composure. “I’ll explain the wardrobe later. But can we make a pact? We do this together. Hand-in-hand. Like Vegas.”
She hesitates, her gaze searching mine, probably for a trap. Finally, she gives a reluctant, stiff nod. “I guess. For the sake of the families.”
She sucks in a breath and exhales, a soft, shaky sound that feels like a brick from the wall she’s built around her heart has crumbled. For a moment, the guardedness in her eyes flickers.I can see her slipping back into the version of us that existed before the fallout. The version that felt effortless.
“Like Vegas,” she whispers, the words sounding less like a deal and more like a bridge being crossed back to the ghost of who we used to be.
“Good,” I say. “But now that we actually have to make appearances as a married couple, I have new rules. New expectations.”
“I’m not having sex with you, Luca.”
We’ll see about that. “Fine,” I concede for the moment, keeping my face neutral. “But as you’ve seen today, getting around and handling the basics is a challenge for me. I’m going to need you to move in.”
The sentimental moment shatters. “Absolutely not!”
“Absolutely…yes.”
