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He watches me for a few seconds before sighing. “I apologize. This merger is taking up too much of my time and I just came from a meeting. But I’d appreciate it if you —”
“Yes, of course,” I say immediately. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you. In fact I don’t want to fight with you at all. I’m sorry. I really am. And I understand you have work and you’re busy. But we’re getting married soon. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together. I just… I want us to be able to talk to each other.”
At this, all the residual anger leaks out of his frame and his body loosens up. He even goes so far as to put the phone away and nod. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should be able to talk to each other.” Then chuckling, “I mean, just because you’re marrying me doesn’t mean you have to get bored to death. So please go ahead.”
“You’re not boring,” I say truthfully. “Or at least not perpetually boring. I’m sure we can find a way to spice you up a little.”
He laughs a little and I breathe a sigh of relief that the ice has been broken.
But then he goes silent and a light frown appears between his brows, this one curious. “Why are you marrying me?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I know why I’m marrying you,” he says, looking slightly suspicious. “But I never asked why a beautiful girl like you is marrying me. I’m sure you could have anyone out there that you want. So why me?”
Because my dad is blackmailing me into marrying you for your money and I can’t do anything about it.
And I’ve never felt worse about that than I do now.
Because I know why he’s marrying me and it’s just as unfair as my reason.
It’s because his dad is an asshole.
A homophobic asshole.
Apparently, he caught Ezra with one of his bodyguards one day and got so disgusted that he threatened to take away Ezra’s inheritance and his position at the company if he didn’t get married to a girl.
I thought my father was an evil asshole, but turns out he’s got competition in Ezra’s dad. Maybe that’s why he’s such good friends with my father.
Who wants to steal all their money.
But since I can’t tell Ezra that, I tell him something else that’s true. “Because if I don’t marry you, my dad will find someone else for me to marry. And he may turn out to be exactly like him.”
Yup.
Ever since my father called me into his study a month back and told me what my fate was going to be, I’d been living in constant fear. I thought my dad would choose someone exactly like him: big and brash and scary and cruel. Someone who’d treat me like an object, abuse me, degrade me just like he’s done with my mother. With the rest of us.
But then I met Ezra and all my fears went away.
He was polite, well-mannered and very, very gay.
With the way he couldn’t take his eyes off that bodyguard of his.
Although I have to say that while my fears were abolished, my guilt surged up.
I thought if the man I was going to marry was like my father, I wouldn’t have any problem pretending to be nice to him to cheat him out of his money. But with Ezra, it does hurt me to do this.
He smiles then and raises his glass for me to clink. “To us. For having the misfortune of being born to the worst two fathers on the planet.”
My guilt at its worst, I smile back. “To us.”
And then we go back to our food. We eat, eat, eat. Or rather, I eat and Ezra goes back to typing stuff up on his phone.
Until I utter the most bizarre thing ever.
“Have you ever thought about babies?”
Jerking his head up, he looks at me. “What?”
Damn it.
Where did that come from?
Well, I know where it came from. As I said, I have been thinking about babies ever since I got engaged but I didn’t mean to blurt it out like this.
But maybe it’s a good thing.
Maybe if I talk about it with my fiancé and make a plan, he won’t barge into my thoughts. Yes, once upon a time I was in love with him and wanted all these things with him but that’s not the case anymore. So yeah, good thing.
“What do you think about them?”
“What…” He blanches. “What do I think about babies?”
“Yeah. Do you like them?”
“Do I like them?”
“Yes.” I nod, now getting slightly impatient that he’s repeating everything. “Do you like babies?”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve always wanted one.”
“I –”
“And because I think a baby might be a perfect thing.” Then, I add, “For us.”
Actually, yes.
It just occurred to me.
It’s more than good. It’s genius.
