Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

A grand gesture.

It worked in movies.

“Now everyone is going to think we’re engaged!” Leah reached behind her head and unclasped her necklace. She tossed it on the bedside table.

None of this was going according to plan. “We are engaged. You said yes.”

She frowned at me. “That wasn’t real.”

“Yes, it was.” So her yes wasn’t actually a yes? That did not make me happy.

Her jaw dropped. “That was real? Grant!”

“What?”

“I thought it was an act.”

“I gave you a ring.” Fucking great. My grand gesture had gone over exactly the opposite of how I had intended. “I had it delivered tonight. I bought it today.” It had taken thirty minutes and a massive amount of money but whatever. Clearly, she thought it was all bullshit.

I was pissed and hurt.

At my reminder of the ring, she jerked and tugged it off her finger. She set it next to the necklace. “We can’t get married. We just started dating. Why would you even think that?”

It was like being slapped.

I reared back. “Because I’m in love with you.”

I had never truly loved a woman. I knew what I knew. What the hell was there to wait for? What would be different in a year or six months? Nothing.

I wanted her.

She looked at a loss as to what to say.

It was there on her face. She didn’t want the same thing.

“I don’t want to be an impulse, Grant. This is all exciting and new and then what happens in a couple of months? I don’t want to be a regret or the woman you see for a couple of hours on the weekend. A rich man’s weekend wife.”

Wow. That was fucking harsh.

“Then I guess you really don’t know me at all, do you? My mistake.” That hurt. I had shown her me, without walls up, and she thought I was the kind of guy who just wanted something and took it. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Are you coming back to the party?”

She shook her head no.

My nostrils flared and my throat constricted. “Fine. I’ll tell them you’re sick.”

“I can’t marry you,” she said, wrapping her arms over her middle. She looked troubled.

“You don’t have to. I’ll tell everyone in a week or two we broke up.” That would fit right in with her opinion of me.

“Are we breaking up?” she asked, looking like she might cry.

I knew I was being an asshole, but I couldn’t help it. It felt like I was being gutted. It felt like I was alone. Again. Like always.

“We were never really together, were we?” I said, and my voice was cold, angry.

Leah winced.

I left the room and returned to the party, going straight for the bar. I poured a whiskey and forced an easy smile onto my face. I turned and spent the rest of the night accepting congratulations and reassuring everyone Leah was fine.