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Now, Maddox was glad for his stubbornly sentimental streak. The clothes were more than three years old, but they were hers.
He told her that, surprised again when she accepted what he said with a distracted nod. Knowing he was stalling, Maddox asked her if she wanted to use the shower, even offering to carry her to the bathroom so that she could keep off her ankle.
Later.
A nightgown to change into?
Later.
Some aspirin?
Later.
Eventually, Maddox ran out of excuses. He could tell that she was lost in her own thoughts. And while he would’ve given every last penny he had if she would only open up to him like she had been before the headache became too much, Maddox decided it was time.
She wasn’t going to remember on her own. Being around him, feeling th
e slight tug of the bond trying to forge again, even returning to her own home… if none of that was going to make her memories come back, maybe this would.
Maddox returned to his chair. He grabbed the manila envelope, removing the two pieces inside of it. Sitting down at her bedside again, he handed the bigger certificate to Evangeline.
She took it.
Her eyebrows rose. “What’s this?”
“Look at it. I mean really look at it. Maybe this will finally prove to you that I’m not full of shit.”
It was a marriage license.
Her stomach dropped.
In utter disbelief, she read it again.
Certificate of Marriage.
This certifies that Maddox Wolfe and Evangeline Lewis were united in marriage on this day…
Her gaze lowered to the four handwritten scrawls along the bottom. She could just about make out Maddox’s signature, and the one below his that looked like it read Colton Wolfe as the witness. The one next to Maddox’s, though? She knew that one.
“That… that’s my signature.” Evangeline glared accusingly up at Maddox. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You forged this? Just when I thought— I thought I was…” She refused to tell the bastard that she was beginning to think about sticking around a little longer, trying to understand just what there was between them. Not now. Not after this. “There isn’t a single honest judge in the world who’d sign off on this so if you think, for one second, this is gonna trap me here with you—”
“Look at the date,” he interrupted. He used his pointer finger to underline the date printed on the license.
She did.
“Three years ago… wait a second, I know that date. That’s the date of my accident.”
“Our accident.” Maddox reminded her.
“You weren’t there,” she argued, tearing her gaze away from his muscular chest. Her voice was shaky, her head spinning. It was getting harder and harder to separate her blanked memories from the dreams that constantly haunted her, especially when Maddox kept insisting he was in the car when she crashed.
And that wasn’t the only thing he wouldn’t let go of, either.
As if Maddox could sense her hesitation, he gentled his rough, raspy tone. “We’re bonded, Angie. Mated. But we’re also married.”
Then, before she could argue, he handed her the other sheaf he held carefully in his hand. With shaky fingers, she gripped it, turning it over only to discover that it was a photograph.
The world stopped.
