Dear Future Ex-wife

We sink to the ground, sitting next to each other as we watch the waves crash in front of us. Nate’s grip tightens on my hand. His palm is sweaty, so he must be nervous.

“Spit it out already,” I say. “The suspense is killing me.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he says, his eyes downcast.

His words are somewhat slurred, but Nate doesn’t look completely wasted.

“Nate, c’mon,” I say after a long pause.

Waves crash in the background, filling the awkward void.

“Just tell me already,” I demand.

“This could change everything.”

“Well, then you need to tell me,” I shoot back. “No, you have to tell me. If this marriage is going to work, we need to be honest with each other.”

“That’s why I’m telling you,” he confesses. “I don’t want us to have secrets.” He moves his hand to my face, caressing my skin with his calloused thumb. “I want you to know the truth before you say ‘I do’ tomorrow.”

“Okay…” I can barely catch my breath. “What is it?”

“When I asked you to marry me, I told you it would be temporary. I thought we could get this annulled after a few months and walk away. But my dad left out the part about how much we need Titan. This isn’t a one-time deal, Harley, and if you marry me, we might not be able to have it annulled.”

“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

“The initial deal with Titan Tech will get us through the next few quarters—”

“But we need them for more than that?”

He nods. “Yes. I wanted you to know that before you walk down the aisle. We could be playing husband and wife for a long time, possibly years depending on the company’s financial situation.”

“Your game could get us out of the hole,” I point out. “We need Titan Tech now, but we might not next year. I knew there was a possibility of this marriage lasting longer.”

“You did?” He seems surprised, which shocks me.

“Yeah. Didn’t you?”

Nate shakes his head, and his dark hair falls in front of his eyes. “No. I wanted to believe my dad. I thought he was being honest with me.”

“I’m not the least bit surprised. We’re nothing more than chess pieces on our fathers’ boards, ready to move into position whenever they see fit.”

The company name is a play on our last names, but it’s also a reference to chess. Our fathers are strategists who plan out every move they make in advance. I knew my father well enough to know that we were getting screwed over. It was only a matter of time before they hit us with the real news.

“So, you’re not mad?” Nate studies my face for the answer.

I shake my head. “I’m used to the lies and deception. I knew the risk when I said yes, and I’m not walking away.”

He blows out a breath of air. “That’s good to hear. I was afraid you would change your mind, but I couldn’t keep this from you.”

“We’re good.” I push myself up from the ground. “But we should get back to our friends before they disappear on us.”

Nate stands at his full height, his eyes fixed on me. “Does it make me a shitty person that I’m hoping they forget about us?”

I roll my shoulders.

He extends his hand to me. “Take a walk with me. Give me a few more minutes, and then we’ll head back.”

When I slip my fingers between his, all of the old memories wash over me. Every feeling crashes into me like waves breaking on the sand. We take a quick stroll down the beach in silence, stopping to turn around when we reach the next hotel. We could sit in the same room for hours without talking, and it never feels weird or uncomfortable. I love that about our relationship.

This is perfect. Us.

Nate and Harley.

Harley and Nate.

On the morning of my wedding, I woke up to breakfast in bed. Unfortunately, Nate wasn’t the one in bed with me. Willow snored in my ear for most of the night, and with all of the nerves settling into my chest, it was impossible to sleep. A few hours before the alarm clock sounded, my head hit the pillow and my eyes slammed shut from exhaustion. After a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and a pot of coffee, I feel like a new person.

I’m ready to marry my best friend.

Now, all of my bridesmaids are in my room, staring at me with wide eyes, faces full of makeup, and slight hangovers. The girls started drinking not long after their plane touched down in Nassau. Apparently, the party is continuing in my room. Callie pounds a mimosa, eyeing me up as if seeing me for the first time. She saw my dress at Dante Drake’s studio, all of the girls did. And yet, they’re standing in front of me, drinking one glass of champagne after the other, yapping about the guys they met the night before at the bar.