18. Chapter 18 - Minnie
Damien taps the marriage license with his index finger. “Stravinsky,” he barks.
The Danny I knew growing up wasn’t bossy or possessive.
He was sweet and kind. He listened to me and looked out for me…
until he realized he was better off without me in my life.
But while we were friends, he never had this effect on me.
He never made me feel like my heart might explode out of my chest or that I might forget how to breathe. He made me feel happy and safe.
I need that now. Not this. Never this.
But Damien doesn’t seem to realize that. He glares at me, waiting for me to argue, and clearly gearing up for a fight.
Why does it even matter what last name I sign on the marriage license? Does he think the fae king would care? It’s not as if keeping my maiden name would make us any less married.
Married…
The realization slams into me and squeezes my chest tight.
Deep breaths, I remind myself. I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m so not safe!
“Minnie!” Zoe says my name loudly, her voice breaking through my panic. “You don’t have to change your name if you don’t want to.”
Damien turns his scowl on her. “Yes, she does.”
My panic escalates, but Zoe doesn’t seem fazed by his aggressive tone one bit. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully, Stravinsky. If you hurt Minnie, there’ll be hell to pay.”
Damien raises an eyebrow, looking every inch the rock star. “Is that so?”
Zoe doesn’t back down. She takes a threatening step forward, eyes blazing. “You don’t want to mess with me.”
“Kids!” Judge Adeboye snaps. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
Zoe turns on him, her expression fierce. “Damien Starr may be a famous rock star, but he doesn’t get a free pass to hurt my friend.”
Friend. Zoe thinks I’m her friend!
“Of course he doesn’t get a free pass.” Judge Adeboye scratches his head. “But they’re fated mates.”
He doesn’t say more, but he doesn’t have to.
True fated mates are connected so deeply, they would never hurt one another.
Which is just further proof that Damien and I are hates, not mates.
If we were mates, he never would have left me behind all those years ago.
He would have wanted me around, no matter what.
Damien turns to the judge with a frown. “We’re what now?”
My heart slams in my chest. Shit. Shit. Shit!
With everything going on, I completely forgot that Damien couldn’t see the pink magic connecting us—and that he’s got no one to point it out. No band mates. No friends.
Judge Adeboye frowns. “I assumed your bride told you.” His gaze shifts to me. “You are a witch, aren’t you? I could have sworn Damien said so. I may be old, but I’m still as sharp as I was when I was your age.”
“I am a witch,” I say softly.
The Judge’s frown turns to disbelief. “Yet you can’t see the bond?”
“I… can.”
Damien’s eyes land on mine. They’re filled with accusation… and disbelief. Because he isn’t into me like that. It’s proof that we’re fated hates—but I can’t tell the judge that.
“I… was waiting for the right time to tell you,” I whisper. Like never. “And I was planning to take your name, Damien. I just thought it would be Starr not Stravinsky. That’s all.” Which is an outright lie.
Changing my last name never even crossed my mind. Not that it matters all that much. I can run the random name generator again once we’re divorced, and pick a new last name for my next fresh start.
“Then it’s all settled.” Damien smiles softly at me and my heart skips a beat—before I remember he’s acting. “Fated mates, huh?”
“Yeah.” The blush that creeps up my cheeks in response is one hundred percent real.
I quickly look away before he realizes the effect he has on me. I pick up the pen, my hand trembling, and write Damien’s last name. It feels so wrong, and yet so right. Because a tiny part of me still believes that I was meant to be Minnie Stravinsky all along.
When I’m done, Damien leans over, sending my heart into overdrive. He plants a kiss on the top of my head, causing warm heat to flood my cheeks, and signs his own name. Daniel Stravinsky.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest.
I’m married to Daniel Stravinsky.
Why does that suddenly make it feel so much more real?
Time seems to slow down. Reality turns disjointed, like I’m stuck somewhere deep inside myself, my body no longer my own. The room is too bright, the voices too loud, and everything starts to feel hazy.
Oh, how I wish I still had Formula M.
Damien takes my hand in his and tugs me aside. Zoe signs as a witness. Judge Adeboye lines us up for photos. I try to smile but my face feels stiff, probably from a lack of practice after years on Formula M.
Then it’s all over and we’re stepping out of the room as a married couple, yet complete strangers who were once inseparable friends.
I don’t remember moving, but suddenly we’re outside, and the crisp fall air bites my bare skin. Goosebumps rise on my arms, and I fumble through my Birkin for my Summer Spritz.
Damien waits patiently while I spray it on and then opens the passenger door of his fancy black sports car for me.
The seat is cold against my skin and the new car smell brings up childhood memories I’d rather forget.
Not the ones I sometimes let myself relieve after Natty’s gone to bed, where Danny and I are inseparable.
The ones where I’m a Montgomery, seen but not heard, failing to be a daughter my parents could love.
Damien starts the car and drives past Main Street, past the bakery, past Jewels Cafe. I watch everything slide by. “Where are we going?”
My voice trembles, like I’ve forgotten how to speak. Something that, unlike smiling, I’ve done plenty thanks to Formula M.
“To your new house, as promised.” Damien pulls a key from his pocket and hands it to me.
Your house. Not our house.
Because we’re not actually married. We signed a contract. We’re business partners at best, enemies at worst. That’s all we’ll ever be.
Damien’s ring practically burns against my skin, and I pull it off and dump it in my purse. It’s not like wearing it was ever part of the deal.
It shouldn’t hurt.
But it does.
I tighten my grip around the key, letting it dig into my palm.
The address of my new home was on the prenup. 111 Pine Drive. Probably some old, dilapidated property that isn’t much better than the bakery.
The thought slams into me, along with the realization that I fucked up. There’s nothing about the quality of my new house in the prenup. It’s probably so bad it needs to be demolished. I couldn’t even negotiate a simple deal. Some Montgomery I am.
Except I’m not a Montgomery anymore. I’m a Stravinsky.
I let go of the heavy weight of generations of expectations and feel myself start to relax.
I’ll make it work. Use Damien’s money to renovate the place, or sell it and use his money to rent our own place.
Maybe I could even have a new house built on the land—because Pine Drive is absolutely perfect.
Trees line both sides, brimming with life, and we even pass a large playground that Natty’s going to love.
There are families out with kids his age.
Maybe he’ll make a best friend… one that won’t abandon him one day.
Laughter carries through the air, giving me hope. So do the houses, which are absolutely gorgeous.
Then, Damien pulls up at 111 Pine Drive, and my heart sinks.
Not because the house is a wreck… but because it’s pure perfection. My dream home. The house I’ve always longed for while growing up in the sterile Montgomery mansion.
Even after all this time, Damien knows exactly what I like. He knows me better than anyone else in the entire world—he always has. Which only makes his rejection hurt more.
Damien’s the only person who ever got to see the real me. He knows the me I keep hidden—the me Formula M would override. But that’s the person he decided wasn’t good enough. That’s who he abandoned, who he left with no friends—no one to talk to, no one to confide in, no one who cared.
I fumble with my seatbelt and scramble out of the car. The key digs into my palm, reminding me of the here and now. This is my new beginning. My chance to take control of my future and create a better life for Natty and me.
Maybe I can even have friends. Zoe. Amber. Even Violet. If I only show them the parts of me that won’t scare them off, maybe they’ll stick around… unlike Danny.
“What do you think of the house?” he asks as he joins me on the front drive.
I can’t bring myself to lie. “It’s beautiful.”
“I knew you’d like it,” he says. Somehow, that only makes my heart hurt more.
But I won’t let him in. I won’t let him hurt me again.
A squirrel chitters above our heads, and I glance up at the large, leafy tree shading the front yard.
“You can’t catch me,” the squirrel calls out, racing down the trunk.
“I’m faster than you,” a second squirrel yells as it chases after the first.
I almost drop onto all fours, wiggle my ass, and start a conversation.
Without Formula M in my system, when I talk to animals, I act like them, too.
Which means that saying hello to my new neighbors will have to wait until Damien’s gone.
It’s bad enough that I used to make a fool of myself as a child—rolling around in the mud with dogs and flapping my arms each time a bird flew by.
There’s no way I’m going to let him see me acting that way as a grown-ass adult.
Danny may have pretended he liked my powers, but one day, he decided he didn’t want to be seen with the weird Montgomery girl.
He ghosted me like our friendship meant nothing.
And then he became a famous rock star…
No way am I going to remind him I’m still the weirdo he once knew.