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“I’ll go,” he finally concedes.
I smile. “Good. If you ever touch my wife—better yet, if you even breathe the same air as her—know it will be the end of you.”
I storm out the door. The fear in his eyes tells me enough. I won’t be seeing him again.
I race down the stairs, finding my driver waiting for me. The moment he sees me, he rushes to open the back passenger door of the town car for me. Sliding in, I look at the time with a wince. I’m running late—by a lot. We were supposed to be leaving forthe event any minute now, and I’m not even home. I try calling Winnie, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Fuck. I feel bad, and I never feel bad about anything.
“We need to hurry,” I tell Ryan, sitting back in the seat as I come up with an excuse to tell Winnie where I’ve been.
CHAPTER 19
WINNIE
He’s late.
And no matterhow hard I try not to be disappointed at him not being here when he said he would, I can’t help it.
There are so many reasons I shouldn’t be excited about tonight. I’ll have to face my friends and tell them I got married in secret. I’ll have to answer their numerous questions. I’ll have to speak to so many people and relay the pretend love story of Archer and me over and over again. But despite all of that, a small part of me was excited to go to an event with him. To spend more time with him since he disappeared after our long walk yesterday morning.
I’ve tried not to wonder if he was avoiding me. He’s a busy man, and just because we’re in a fake marriage doesn’t mean he has to give me any of his time, but still, I was looking forward to tonight so I could see him again.
But he isn’t here.
I sigh, looking at the clock on the oven. The event has already started. Even if we left right now, we’d miss the red carpet beforehand. I’m never one that loves to talk to the press. I was always at the very end of the galleries they uploaded because I wasn’t as important as the celebrities that’d attend these things, but Archer and I were supposed to give some coy interviews tonight on the carpet for our newlyweddebut.
I sit still, watching each minute tick by on the clock for another ten minutes until I realize how desperate and pathetic I seem. If he doesn’t want to attend the event, then we won’t go. I’ll have to call Emma later and come up with an excuse for why I didn’t meet them there, but I can handle it.
I’d honestly rather deal with her questions right now than have to face Archer and ask him why he decided not to attend the event without any kind of explanation.
Tossing my clutch on the kitchen counter, I slide out of the barstool and head upstairs to my room. The moment I cross the threshold to my space, I kick off my heels and jump onto my bed. I should’ve brought my clutch up so I could charge my phone, but now I’m too comfortable to do anything about it. Or maybe I’m just letting the disappointment get the best of me when I know I shouldn’t.
I’m busy staring at the ceiling, dreading having to get up to pull the pins from my hair and wash my face, when two knocks on my doorframe have me pushing off my comforter.
“Winnie,” Archer says, his voice breaking a little, like he was slightly out of breath.
I stare at him for a moment, wondering if I’m actually seeing him. He looks disheveled. Pieces of his hair fall into his face as his hands run awkwardly down his wrinkled clothes.
“Archer?” I ask in shock, noticing that his knuckles are bleeding. Before I can get up and cross the room to ask him where he’s been, he’s coming to a stop at the end of the bed.
He gives me a pained expression. “I’m sorry I’m late. I just need five minutes, and I’ll be ready.”
I’d stand up, but he’s standing so close to the edge of the bed that if I did, it’d put us chest to chest. Instead, I stay seated, my legs awkwardly parted to make room for him. If the dress didn’t have a slit that went all the way to the top of my thigh, I wouldn’t be able to adjust to the position at all.
“Where were you?” My eyes track over his body. I figured he was working late, but nothing about his appearance makes itseem like he was working. “What happened?” I press, needing an explanation. I don’t even care about the party anymore. I just want to know where he’s been and why he has blood on him.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I want to go tonight.” His eyes travel over my face, but I can’t tell what’s going through his mind as his cold gaze sweeps over me. “Can you give me five minutes?”
I want to ask him again where he’s been, but if he wanted to tell me, he would have already. I still fight the urge to ask him a thousand more questions, but he seems insistent we still go tonight, and I can’t argue because I still want to go despite him being late and showing up like this.
Archer must not like my silence because he looks back at my heels that lie by the door. He steps from between my legs, walking across the room to grab them and return to me.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to anymore. I know I’m late, and you’re probably mad at me. But I’d love to attend”—he holds up the heels with the most sheepish smile I’ve ever seen on him—“and introduce you as my wife tonight.”
Before I can answer him, he drops to his knees. He carefully sets one of the heels on the rug, holding the other one next to my foot. His eyes hold what seems like a million different questions as he looks up at me. Without any words, I know what he’s asking. I nod, letting him know that I’ll still go with him despite everything.
His sigh of relief is loud, so loud there’s no way I could miss it. I hate that inside, my heart seems to come to life from that one simple breath. I can’t help it.
