Page 74 of The Contract Marriage

Now the sky is completely dark. The moon hasn’t risen yet, but a few stars sparkle in the inky canvas. I check the time. Should be just about—

Suddenly the sky lights up with HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE, OLIVIA KINGSWOOD.

She gasps. Her fork clatters onto the plate, but I don’t think she notices. Her unblinking eyes take in the view.

“Oh wow,” she breathes.

The drones change to make a single heart—this is our first time celebrating her birthday together. We’ll have many, many more. Then they shift again, writing I’M SO GRATEFUL YOU’RE IN MY LIFE.

Absolutely still, she stares. Awe and wonder spread over her face, her jaw slack. In my peripheral vision, Frederich carries out a nama-cream cake from Bobbi’s Sweet Things with thirty lit candles. But from the absolute focus as she watches the drone show, I doubt Olivia notices.

I start to reach over to hold her hand, then stop at the sight of silent tears gleaming on her cheeks. Each drop is like a little diamond reflecting the lights from the drones.

My heart stops. Of all the possibilities, I never thought she would cry. How do I comfort her? I thought she would be happy over the show. But so much grief pours out of her unblinking eyes. God damn it. Did I ruin everything?

She turns to me, her cheeks soaked with tears. “How did you know?”

I don’t answer, just swipe a thumb over her cheek, but more tears flow.

“I haven’t celebrated since Mom passed away—Hugh couldn’t be bothered.”

Olivia doesn’t mention Simon. Maybe she only sees their lunches as a professional gesture, rather than something personal. I can’t decide if I should be happy or sad. Her birthday should’ve been special every year.

“Mom always planned something amazing, saying I was her greatest treasure. She even bought me a pony once,” Olivia continues. “All my friends envied me. Brielle was furious when she saw it after moving in. Deena said if Mom hadn’t ‘shown off’ so much, she might’ve liked her better.” Her face crumples a little. “I used to wonder if she would’ve called 911 sooner if I hadn’t received that pony for my birthday.”

I take her hand in mine, even as I seethe with fury at the injustice she’s suffered.

“I tried not to remember my birthdays because I didn’t want to hurt.” She sniffles. “Still… This is the most beautiful celebration I’ve had in twenty years. Thank you so much, Liam.”

I cradle her face and kiss away her tears. “Happy birthday, my love.” I gesture at the cake. “Blow out the candles and make a wish.”

Chapter Thirty

Olivia

I look at the flickering candles and Liam’s glowing face. I already made a wish when Simon had the restaurant bring out a small cake at the end of the meal, as he always does on my birthday lunch. And every year, I’ve wished for the same thing: Let me bring justice to all those who wronged my mother.

But looking at Liam’s face, I don’t want to make that wish again. I don’t know if making a new wish now is going to cancel out the earlier one. But this year is different. And I don’t care.

I blow out the candles. I want Liam to be happy and have all that he desires.

Wisps of smoke rise from the candle wicks, as though to answer, Okay. I lift my eyes to his smiling face. This is the first time I’ve prayed for something other than justice for my mom in the last twenty years. But I know I’ll never regret making this particular wish.

Except… Confusion and apprehension drift over me, leaving my skin chilled. My entire life purpose was to get justice for my mom and Pochi. Liam was supposed to be a means to an end, a partner to have a respectable baby with so nobody could question its legitimacy. But somehow he’s managing to inch up my priority list, making me forget from time to time I have a bigger goal than just enjoying my marriage until it ends.

“What are you doing to me?” I whisper.

“Something that every husband ought to do for his wife,” he says. “And I’m celebrating someone worth celebrating.”

“You’re too good to me.”

He cocks his head.

“I don’t even believe in the supernatural, but sometimes…I feel like Mom sent you to me.” Except even if she did—the knot in my heart can never loosen until I have my vengeance.

His eyes light up. “I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

He’s oblivious to the fact that he’s the sweet one, not me. I can’t even begin to express this achy, buoyant sensation welling in my chest. I want to pretend it doesn’t exist, but dragging in air hurts. I have to do something before it overwhelms me and destroys all my judgment and control.