Chapter 22
MAGGIE
After a few days in Chicago, getting away from my world and into Ryan’s, I was at peace.
While he’d spent most of those days working, I’d spent them wandering around his neighborhood, shopping for clothes I actually found comfortable, eating whatever food I wanted, and discovering a deep love for being free to explore without anyone caring who I was.
It was glorious. I was beginning to understand why Ryan liked living between the two cities, constantly being where no one expected. It was a lot easier to fly under the radar that way.
Unfortunately, feeling like I was free didn’t necessarily mean it was true. While I was folding the last of my things into a new suitcase to head back to New York, my phone rang and Marcus’s name lit up the screen.
I stared at it for a beat, just innocently buzzing on the crisp white comforter while sunshine streamed in through the windows and the city carried on six stories below.
A very large part of me wished I could just ignore the call, put on some shoes, and go join those people on the sidewalks who weren’t wondering how long it would be before they’d be marrying someone they didn’t know, but that wasn’t my life.
Sighing as I reached for the phone, I finally swiped across the screen and put my brother on speaker. “Hey, Marcus.”
“Are you back yet?” he asked instead of even saying hello first. “We need to talk.”
“You know, with an opening like that, I’m not sure I’ll be coming back at all.”
He sighed, the sound making me smile. Marcus sighing at me had been a defining feature of my childhood. Frankly, it was comforting hearing it again now.
“The wedding has to go forward, Maggie. I know you’ve been sitting on a text from Daniel asking to talk, but it’s time. Respond to him and let’s get the wedding planning ball rolling again.”
I lifted my gaze back to the windows and looked out at a city I hadn’t had nearly enough of yet, the glittering water of Lake Michigan only just visible in the distance and kids playing in a large park on the next block over.
“It’s still a hard no from me,” I said after a brief pause. “When I’m in love, then it’ll be a yes, but not a second before.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“It should be,” I countered. “Both of us have been raised to accept that marriage is simply our fate, with no say in it otherwise, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.”
He let out another sigh, longer and more frustrated this time. “Daniel expects very little from you, Mags. If you just give him a chance, I’m sure you’ll learn to like him.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him,” I argued. “Again, Daniel is fine, but I’m not in love with him and I want to be in love.”
“I know, but—”
“No, you don’t know. You don’t get it at all because you’re not the one talking about committing to someone you don’t even know.
I actually want to love my husband, Marcus.
I want to want him. I want to look at him and feel something other than relief that he’s kind, rich, and acceptable to the family. ”
“Daniel is a lot more than just that.”
“I’m sure he is, but he also expects very little from me.”
“Exactly. Why is that a problem?”
“Because I want the man I marry to expect everything.” I walked backward to the bed and sat down, my gaze still on the Chicago skyline as I tried to explain something to my brother I wasn’t sure he’d ever understand.
“I want him to expect me to be his partner and his friend. I want real love, Marcus.”
“What about the terms you set?”
I shrugged. “Unless I missed something, they haven’t been met yet, but I meant it when I said I’d do it if I can do it my way. Since no one but me seems to care about the actual marriage as much as the show itself and fact that our families will be connected.”
“Alright,” he said finally, sounding so tired that I almost felt bad for him. “Let me talk to Dad. Call me when you’re back.”
When he hung up, I glanced at my suitcase and considered upending the whole darn thing just to delay our departure at least a little bit more, but in the end, I simply finished packing and headed to the airport with Ryan when he’d wrapped up his last meeting.
He sat beside me in first class, working while I watched the clouds drifting below. I’d only ever flown private, so once again, this was a new experience for me. Unfortunately, with my conversation with Marcus heavy on my mind, I couldn’t even enjoy it.
“Ryan?” I asked finally, waiting for him to wrench those blue eyes away from his laptop before I finally just asked the question I hadn’t been able to get out of my head since I’d talked to my brother. “Have you ever thought about getting married?”
He held my gaze for a moment before he shrugged. “Eventually? Sure.”
“Eventually?”
“When I meet my wife.”
I frowned. “Your wife? How will you know that this theoretical woman you’ll meet will be her?”
He took a beat, just looking into my eyes until he gave another shrug. “I’ll just know.”
Something inside me clicked as he said it. He’d made it sound almost offensively simple. I’ll just know.
That was what I wanted, too. I wanted to know, but that wasn’t in the cards for me.
“Your family has never made any noise about an arranged marriage?” I asked.
He turned back to his laptop. “Nah, they have. Alex Westwood in particular is on my back about making a good match, but so far, thankfully, he’s been too busy to start introducing me to eligible bachelorettes.”
“But…” I trailed off, doing a slow double-take as I gawked at him. Ryan, for his part, was clicking through his inbox like what he’d just said didn’t matter at all. “What will you do when he does start introducing you to people and you don’t suddenly just know?”
“I won’t marry them,” he said, once again making it sound like an unimportant side quest that wasn’t worth discussing.
I shook my head slowly from one side to the other. “Will you be able to say no?”
He glanced up at me again, his eyes somehow even bluer against the locks of dark brown that’d fallen across his forehead while he’d been typing.
“My situation isn’t the same as yours, Maggie.
Alex is trying to help the Thayer name recover by making connections between us and other powerful families, but he’s not my father.
In his case, it really is a matter of trying to use his contacts and influence to help. ”
As I stared at him, I suddenly knew exactly what I had to do.
Obviously, I had to get married eventually because Ryan was right.
Alex wasn’t his father. He couldn’t attach strings or hold inheritances hostage.
My father, on the other hand, had proven exactly how far he was willing to go to make this happen.
As things stood, the wedding had only been postponed, not canceled. My parents and the Hawthornes certainly weren’t just going to give up. Neither Daniel nor I had a choice, but I could make our parents wish we did.
If they wanted a wedding, I would give them one, but it would be mine.
I could stall until I got them to agree to the craziest wedding of the century—and I would love it.
I would make it so spectacularly, unapologetically me that everyone involved would protest to the point that they called the whole thing off.
At least that would buy me a few years to meet my actual husband. Ryan was getting the time he needed to just know because Alex was apparently too busy, and that was what I needed. Time.
When I looked at him again, he was still working, completely unaware that I’d just solved my entire life. I felt a slow grin spread on my lips as I tapped his shoulder.
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, his attention clearly still on his work, but I met his gaze and just blurted it out. “Will you plan my wedding?”
His fingers stopped over the keyboard and he blinked a few times too many. “Will I do what now?”
“You heard me.”
“Okay, then the answer is no.”
I sighed. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“I don’t need to,” he said evenly. “The last time I tried to help, you ran away.”
“What if I promise not to do that again?”
His eyebrows swept up. “Will you promise not to do it again?”
“Only if you agree to help me plan it.”
He stared right into my eyes for a few more seconds. “Fine, but only if you’ll actually get married at the end.”
I held out my pinky. “I promise.”
He glanced at my finger, frowning when he glanced back up at me. “If we’re making a blood oath, I get to bite your finger this time.”
“It’s a pinky swear, not a blood oath.”
The corner of his mouth inched up as he hooked his little finger around mine. “I would just like to state for the record that we’re both in our late twenties. A blood oath would be more age appropriate.”
“You’re promising to help me plan a wedding, not to eradicate a supernatural race humanity isn’t allowed to know about.”
He tightened his finger around mine. “You have to swear that you won’t run, Maggie.”
“I won’t.”
Something in his eyes changed then, a suspicion taking root before he narrowed them at me. “Swear that you will not leave the altar without a ring on your finger.”
Damn it. He’s good, isn’t he?
I looked down at our linked pinkies, meaning to say the words, but they took longer than usual to form. “I swear.”
Ryan didn’t look away—and he didn’t let go either, staring right at me with his finger still wrapped around mine and his eyes still slightly narrowed, but then he nodded and finally pulled his hand away.
Strangely, I missed the heat of his pinky as soon as it was gone, but at the same time, relief cascaded through me. I still didn’t know if my parents were actually going to agree to this, but if they did, then at least I knew I could count on Ryan to make sure I got what little I could.
A wedding I actually wanted.
Unless my plan worked and we could find a way to make it so wonderfully, spectacularly ridiculous that no wedding would be happening at all.