Chapter 32
James
I didn't mean to hurt her with that parting statement in the car. But I was so taken aback with how I'm softening toward her. How my emotions seem to be so much closer to the surface when it comes to her. How I can’t stop myself from caring for her… So, I lashed out.
I felt like a bastard when I saw the disappointment in her eyes.
She’d gotten out of the car without waiting for me to open the door.
I deserved worse.
And we continued with the dinner prep and service.
That was a week ago.
I should apologize.
But really… Why should I?
This might be a real wedding, but my feelings are not involved.
This is a transaction. She helps me secure my inheritance and save the restaurant. I compensate her and help advance her career.
We’re square.
Right?
“You’re disappointed that Margot’s not coming to the wedding?" Tristan steps up to stand next to me.
"I am. But she was clear that she didn’t want to be invited to the wedding. I’m not going to second-guess her."
I opt to keep my gaze fixed out the windows of the room at Islington Town Hall.
We’re in the waiting room next to the ceremony, where the registrar will officiate the civil ceremony.
“You’re the first of all her grandsons to get married. I figured she’d want to be there to make sure you do the deed." Tristan turns to me.
"You were wrong." I take in his black suit and tie. He looks distinguished. He’s taken on the role of my unofficial best man.
“On the other hand, it’s a relief that she’s not going to be here. Less pressure on the both of you." He shrugs.
I arranged it so I'll arrive first in the ceremony room. My brothers and guests will be seated, then the bride will arrive.
So, it’ll follow the sequence of a church wedding.
Give Ember the satisfaction of walking down the aisle in the ceremony room, at least.
I, myself, never envisaged getting married. So, it’s somewhat of a surprise to find myself standing here waiting to be called by the registrar.
It felt essential to keep the proceedings official. To remind myself, and her, that this is strictly to put on a show for our families, so word will get back to Margot and my shareholders, and they’ll be reassured. There is no romance involved.
But that hurt look in her eyes made me want to make up for the pain I've caused her. Hence, my booking a private waiting room to afford us more privacy, and the changes to the schedule so the events unfold like a church wedding.
Which means, I can feel the tension build in me. I’m getting married. Married. Fuck.
I glance around the room.
"Let me get you some water." Tristan interprets my actions. He heads for the jug of water on the table, pours me a glass, and brings it over.
I drain it and hand him the glass. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment.
"You seem nervous." He reaches up and adjusts my tie.
I shrug off his hand. "It’s normal to be nervous."
He nods slowly. "Of course, it’s an arrangement first. So, you can be assured that you have an exit clause."
He’s my lawyer and knows the true status of this wedding, so I’m able to openly talk to him about this. But his words form a knot in my stomach. He’s right, though. I should be grateful that this is not the real deal. But I don’t like him saying that aloud. It feels wrong, somehow.
I crack my neck and keep my silence.
"Unless you want it to be real. In which case, you simply have to give it your best shot."
I scowl at him. He makes it sounds so easy. But it’s not, is it? I can’t allow myself to not be in control. I don’t want to feel vulnerable. And that’s what being with her does to me.
Which is why this marriage and the contract is important. Everything is planned out. I just need to make sure my emotions aren’t involved. I can do that. I have a lot of practice with it, after all.
"Just remember, contracts are easy. Marriages aren’t."
I frown. "Explain yourself."
“The paperwork sets the boundaries. But what happens between two people day to day… That’s negotiation. Every single day.”
I rub at my temple. I’m trying to decipher what he means. “You’re saying the contract won’t protect me?"
He smiles. And I’m struck by the fact that, while he looks similar in age to me, he has a few years on me. The experience of those years is reflected in his words when he tilts his head. “I’m saying, it won’t protect you from yourself.”
Wise words.
And he’s right. It really is up to me how I play this. The contract is a guideline. It’s a useful reminder. I can make this marriage whatever I want…within the lines of the contract.
"How’s the bridegroom?" Gideon prowls into the room.
"Irritated that you lot are here," I say honestly. I love my brothers, but they can be intense when they gang up on me.
"As you should be." Beckett walks in behind Gideon. “You know the trick to a happy marriage?”
I sigh. “This should be good.”
“Every morning, you wake up and decide not to be an idiot.”
“Profound." Tristan smirks.
“I’m serious." Beckett’s features echo his words. "You choose her. Again. And again. Even when she’s annoying you.”
"I’ll keep that in mind." It’s not bad advice. If I were getting married for real. Which I’m not.
"How’re you feeling?" Gideon surveys my features.
"I’m good." I roll my shoulders and shake out my hands.
It feels like I’m going into battle, if I’m being honest. My stomach feels like I’ve swallowed an anchor. My chest feels cold. Too cold. I slide my hand inside my pants pocket, where my fingers brush up against the hair tie. I’m instantly soothed.
"This is a big step. I hope you’re prepared to be loyal to only one woman for the rest of your life." Gideon’s tone is half serious, half joking.
I don’t have any reservations about being with one woman for the rest of my life. Not when it’s her.
We’ll be occupying different rooms, so sex won't be featured at all… So long as I get to see her everyday over the breakfast table, I don’t want any other woman in my life.
Just as long as my emotions aren’t involved, of course.
"Gentlemen—"
I look up to find a bespectacled man who I recognize as the registrar’s clerk beaming at us from the entrance to the room.
Finally, fuck.
"—We’re ready for you."