Page 196 of Romeo

Then King asked, “What exactly do you want from her?”

I didn’t have to think about it.

“Everything.”

His eyes hardened again.

“Not tonight,” I added before he could start. “Not because I’ve decided she owes me something. I mean everything someday. Marriage. A home. Whatever life she decides she wants to build.”

King stared at me. “You’re serious.”

“Completely.”

“You’re talking about marrying an eighteen-year-old girl.”

“When she’s ready. When she wants it. When she chooses me freely. Yes.”

“Jesus Christ.” King turned away and rubbed both hands over his face. “This is absolutely fucking insane.”

“Probably.”

“There’s no probably about it.”

I almost smiled, but this wasn’t the conversation for it.

King paced toward the table, planted both hands against it, then looked back at me. “Does she know any of this?”

“Not all of it.”

“So she doesn’t know you’re planning your fucking wedding.”

“I’m not planning a wedding.”

“You just told me you’re going to marry her.”

“I told you what I want. Fiona hasn’t promised me anything.”

That seemed to matter to him. Not enough to make him happy, but enough that some of the anger finally shifted into something closer to scrutiny.

“And if she doesn’t choose you?”

There it was.

The question I didn’t want to think about.

Months ago, the answer in my head would’ve been that she would. The curse said so. Fiona was mine. End of discussion.

I knew better now.

“If she doesn’t choose me, then she doesn’t.”

King’s eyebrows rose.

The words hurt like hell to say.

That didn’t make them less true.

“You’d walk away?”