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It had to be perfect.
So perfect that it probably didn’t exist yet.
Then I got drunk.
And all those lists went right out the window.
My wedding pictures are of me in a skimpy black dress kissing a man I just met in front of Elvis.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
A knock on the door saves me from making that choice.
I jump, my heart thumping eagerly when I check my watch. Is Hansley back already? He gave me the impression that he’d be at the office for a while.
My hands flutter around my hair, smoothing flyaways as I approach the door and prepare to face my…
My husband.
Holy crap.
I check my ring.
Watch the way it glitters and sparkles.
I have a whole husband.
It didn’t dawn on me when I woke up next to him.
When I saw the ring.
Or even last night when he took control of my body.
The conversation we had in the car was the first time I really, truly considered the fact that I’m married to this man.
It’s like waking up one day and suddenly becoming the owner of a pet.
Except I'm returning Sparky in just thirty days.
We could stay married.
Hansley’s suggestion has been running through my mind all day. I laughed it off in the moment. I was too stunned to consider it. Too shaken by the thought.
When it comes to Hansley, my first instinct is always protection mode.
I have to push him away.
Have to keep the lines intact or he’ll barrel right over me.
And then I’ll be lost in him.
Devastated by him.
Trapped in him.
Eventually, when the mushy feelings fade and the rubber hits the road, we might discover that we had nothing but passion and emotion to stand on. By then it’ll be too late. I’d transform into my mother—a bitter divorcee, stuffing lingering feelings for her ex behind petty arguments.
Mom might claim she hates my father, but every time she’s around him, the woman lights up. She’s secretly waiting for him to admit he was wrong for leaving. She’s waiting for him to come back.
