11. Carmie
Chapter 11
Carmie
T he wedding’s basically ruined after that.
As if it weren’t already terrible. I refuse to do anything else: no cake cutting, no father-daughter dance, no speeches. My father speaks anyway, even though I tell him not to. It’s expected, after all, and I’m left alone at my table fuming and feeling like a complete outcast.
At least Luca’s there with me. Daniel’s off making nice with the Russians, but Luca knows something went down between me and Lev during the dance. When he asks, I just tell him it’s nothing and refuse to elaborate.
The night’s hell. Dinner’s okay though. Lev disappears again and doesn’t show his face, though I catch sight of him a few times talking to various people and looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“I’m ready to go home,” I tell Luca the first moment it becomes even remotely appropriate.
He looks awkwardly at Daniel. The pair of them are drinking whiskey at the bar together. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he says and clears his throat.
“What do you mean? Half the guests are gone. Valentin Zeitsev left an hour ago. Adriano disappeared. Let’s just get out of here.”
Daniel looks at me. His face is stern as he sits up straight. “This is awkward, so I’m just going to say it straight. You’re not coming back with us to Dad’s place anymore.”
I laugh because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. The plan was always for them to get me back to Dad’s after the wedding. “Where else would I go?”
“Lev talked to Dad.” Daniel glances at Luca like he’s searching for help, but Luca doesn’t say a damn thing, only glares at his drink. “Apparently, he wants you to come back with him tonight.”
“Are you serious?” I look between my brothers. “I was supposed to have at least one more night. I’m not packed. I’m not?—”
I’m not ready .
“I know this sucks,” Luca says, sounding pissed. “I told him that wasn’t the plan, but he insisted. What can we do? You’re married now.”
“It’s not real.” Desperation rises in my guts. “I mean, come on. We’re not actually?—”
“Yes, Carmie, you are.” Luca stares at me. His expression hardens and I take a step away from him, feeling my face drain. “Look, this is the worst, but we can’t pretend, right? You married the guy and that’s the end of it. No more living at Dad’s place. No more coming back there. You just gotta go with your husband and make it work, okay?”
I don’t know what to say. I expected something like that from Daniel—he’s always been tougher and harder—but never from Luca.
All of a sudden, I feel more alone than I ever have. My brothers are abandoning me. The life I knew is essentially over. And yeah, it’s only one night, but this little fiasco only hammers home what I’ve been trying to mentally avoid this whole time:
I’m Lev’s wife now.
I turn and walk away. Luca calls after me, but neither of my brothers follow as I storm over toward the street. The valet looks at me but doesn’t say anything as I stand alone in the darkness finally letting those tears I’ve been fighting back flow down my face.
I’m not sobbing for Lev. That asshole didn’t do this to me. I’m crying because it’s finally clear just how screwed I am and how nothing is ever going to be the same.
“I take it you’re ready to leave.”
I turn around, wiping my face. Lev’s standing nearby, watching me carefully. That handsome smile is gone.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you making me go home with you?”
“Because you’re my wife.”
“Since when did you give a shit about that?”
He comes closer. There are no other people around. Even the valet makes himself scarce. Fifty feet away, a massive fountain burbles and the echoes of laughter and music drift from the venue. None of that touches me as Lev stops close enough to touch, but he doesn’t reach out.
“When did you find out?” he asks, and I know we’re not talking about our marriage anymore.
I tilt my chin up. “Yesterday.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me earlier?”
“You blew me off. I didn’t plan on giving you the news in front of everyone, but here we are.”
He’s staring at me like he can’t decide if he wants to break my neck or kiss me. “You could have waited.”
“Probably, but you were being such a dick.”
“See, that’s the thing, little fencer. You say you weren’t selfish and spoiled, and yet you were pretty willing to drop a bomb on me just to win an argument.”
He’s got a point there.
I could’ve been a bigger person and waited for a better time to tell him some extremely life-altering news.
But I’ve been so ground down and I just wanted a petty win for once.
“I was embarrassed, okay? I know that wasn’t great, but you pushed me.”
“Can I expect you to overreact every time we get in a fight? This is going to be a pretty brutal life.”
I grind my jaw, glaring at him. “Don’t treat me like a little kid.”
“How would you like me to treat you?” He comes closer, almost threatening with his proximity. “You want me to treat you like my wife? Or maybe like my one-night stand? Would you like that better?”
“Fuck you,” I say, and he grabs me by the arm. I gasp as he tugs me against him, glaring down at me, his eyes still haunted. And I realize in that moment how much he’s struggling with this and how badly I fucked up by telling him in the middle of our first dance.
“You want to forget what happened between us? How I fucked you until you moaned and begged for more? And now here you are, pregnant with my fucking baby. Neither of us asked for this.”
“You’re right, we didn’t. Let go of me.”
“You’re my wife now, Carmie. You’re carrying my baby.”
“I said let go .”
He glares at me. I glare right back. I’m an inch from kneeing him as hard as I can right in the balls when he releases me. I step back, breathing hard, dizzy with the rush of his touch and the intensity of his stare, and I don’t know what we’re doing here. I can’t tell if he hates me like I hate him, or if he wants to fuck me senseless just like I want him to fuck me until none of this hurts anymore.
He composes himself and turns away. “I’ll get the car.”
That’s the end of it. I’m left alone to get myself under control. The valet magically reappears and Lev’s BMW shows up a couple of minutes later. I’m ushered into the passenger seat with no ceremony, no friends or family to say goodbye on my own wedding night, nothing to mark the moment.
Only a man I don’t want and a baby I’m not ready for.
His house is exactly how I remember it.
Which kind of fucks me up. The second I walk inside, that night flashes through my mind again, only more intense, more visceral. It’s the smell of the place: warm cinnamon and whiskey. That scent triggers my body and I’m practically trembling with sexual anticipation, even if sex is the last thing I want tonight.
I’m like Pavlov’s dog. Except a horny version.
“We’ll have your things brought over tomorrow,” he says, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on the couch. The cuffs come undone and he tosses the tie on the back of a chair.
“Great, so am I sleeping in my wedding dress tonight? Just let me go back to my place, I’ll pack a bag, and I’ll come here tomorrow.”
“No.” He goes into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of wine.
“That makes the most sense.”
“I don’t really care.”
“Why are you being like this?” I cross my arms, wanting to shield myself.
His gaze rakes over me, hooded and inviting. “Remember the last time you were here?”
I roll my eyes and make a disgusted sound. Even if yes, absolutely, I definitely remember. “I gave myself amnesia, sorry.”
“That’s a shame, because from what I remember, it was a good night.” That smile comes back for the first time. I hate how charming he is. There’s something magnetic and easy about him, and no matter how hard I try to despise him, he manages to break down my defenses without even trying.
“Oh, you mean when I got pregnant? That was a good night?”
He falters, but only for a moment. “A very good night. Where did we start? Right down here?”
“I’m going to bed.” I stomp toward the stairs.
“What, you don’t want to consummate our vows?” He follows me, grinning now.
“You can consummate your hand for all I care.” I head up the steps. He’s on my heels now, following close. My heart’s racing as I make it to the top and turn toward the guest room.
“Here’s the thing,” he says, leaning against the wall and watching me carefully. “I know you don’t like me. You wanted this marriage about as much as I did. But we’re stuck together, and I’m starting to think we might as well make the best of it.”
“Yeah, you think that now?” I stare at him, struggling not to let my condescension show. “Now that we’re alone and you’re a little drunk and you’re thinking about fucking me?”
He licks his lips and tilts his head. “That’s not it at all.”
“Based on the way you’re looking at me, I think it is, and I’m not interested.”
“You do look beautiful tonight, Carmie,” he says quietly, which I didn’t expect. I figured it’d be something crude or overly sexual, but not that.
He sounds sincere, and it’s actually kind of sweet.
“Great, thanks, that’s what every arranged bride wants to hear on her wedding night.”
“I’m not trying to fuck you right now,” he says, smile fading. I catch a glimpse of that dark tension hiding beneath his easygoing surface, and it scares me a little bit. What’s this guy hiding from everyone else? And what does it mean that he’s letting it peek out in front of me?
“Then let’s say goodnight and end this mess. I’ll sleep in the stupid dress, I don’t even care.”
“Carmie. You’re pregnant with my baby.”
“Thanks for reminding me. I’m extremely aware.” Exhaustion floods over me. “Can I just go to bed now?”
“I’m not letting my pregnant wife sleep alone on some piece-of-shit mattress.”
I laugh at the audacity. Is he being serious right now? “I didn’t realize you were chivalrous. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m serious. That baby changes things.”
“How, exactly? No, seriously, how does the baby change anything? You don’t want to be my husband and I don’t want to be your wife. We’re in this because that’s what our families want. The baby doesn’t change any of that.”
“It changes everything.” He says it very quietly. But there’s an edge to him now. “I’m not asking your permission. I’m telling you, my pregnant wife will not sleep alone on some crappy spare bed.”
“Then you sleep on that bed, because I’m not sharing with you.” I’m so frustrated I could scream.
“Carmie—”
“Stop with that crap, okay? If you really cared about me, you would’ve let me go home with my dad tonight. You would’ve given me one last night in my own room in my own bed and let me pack my stuff before coming here in the morning. Instead, you dragged me off like a selfish asshole, and now you’re doing this, like you actually give a shit. We both know you don’t, so quit pretending. I don’t need that from you.”
He glares at me, jaw working. For a second, I think he’s going to storm toward me as he pushes off the wall, but instead, he disappears into his room. I let out a breath, deflating, and a wash of cold sadness rushes over me.
This is awful. This is so much worse than I could’ve imagined. I figured our marriage wasn’t going to be all happiness and comfort, but I didn’t want to start out hating him.
I turn to head into the guest room when he reappears with his arms full of what looks like pillows and blankets. He flips on the light and tosses everything on the bed.
“Clean clothes to sleep in. They’ll be big, but better than nothing. That’s my good pillow, and an extra blanket in case you need it.” He doesn’t look at me as he lingers in the door and I walk past him.
It’s a weirdly kind gesture. I didn’t expect it.
“Thanks. I guess.”
“Just for tonight. I’ll give you that much. But tomorrow, you’re my wife.”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?”
He stares at me, a devourer, a monster. Beautiful in his brutality.
“It means I’m not as kind as everyone thinks.”
“I sure as hell know it!” I call after him as he shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone in a strange room on my wedding night with clothes and blankets and pillows that smell like him, wishing I was anywhere else, except I’m here, in my new home, with my new husband.
Living my new life.