Page 353 of A Vicious Love

Jamison Crow had spent three years making silence out of me, and now he was learning how it sounded when it belonged to him. Another call filled the screen.

I watched his name pulse through my tears.

It stopped.

Then started again.

I tried to breathe quietly, which was ridiculous because no one could hear me over the thickness of the bathroom door. Still, my body remembered every lesson. Break privately, and return pretty.

Another message.

Jamison: I fixed it.

I picked up the phone.

The next call arrived while it was still in my palm. For one long second, I stared at his name. The screen blurred, cleared, blurred again. I could see the reflection of myself in the black spaces around the letters. This time I answered.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I fixed it.”

His words came too fast, rough at the edges. Behind him, I heard a car engine idling, then a door closing, then Reeves saying something too low for me to make out.

“Fixed what?”

“Everything. The paperwork. The merger. The bride designation. It’s handled.”

I laughed, but the sound came out broken. “How efficient.”

“Sienna, listen to me. You are mine. We are getting married. I was never marrying Celeste.”

The bathroom tilted for a second.

I closed my eyes and held the phone tighter. “Prove it.”

“I am trying to.”

“No.” I opened my eyes and stared at the little gold handle on the bathroom cabinet because it was easier than staring at myself. “Prove it properly. If I’m yours, marry me this weekend.”

Silence.

A horrible calm spread through me. I knew before he answered.

“Sienna.”

“That’s the answer, then.”

“I can’t do it this weekend.”

“Because Celeste’s name is on the paperwork.”

“It’s a formality.”

“A formality that stands between you and a wedding.”

“It stands between us and a rushed ceremony arranged while you’re upset.”

I almost laughed again. “Don’t make it sound as if you’re being thoughtful.”