“I…I need to talk to you about something. I’m…” She exhaled a shaky breath, hand on her stomach; then her eyes zeroed on the document in my hands. “What is that?”
I stood up, gripping the postnuptial, then handed it to her.
Lottie held the papers, staring at them for a while. “Is this what I think it is?”
I nodded.
She looked back at them, going quiet. “You’re handing me papers for a future, so why does this feel like the end?”
Because once my grandfather saw this, I’d finally have leverage to get us out.
“It’s for her.” She gripped the papers, wrinkling them. “It’s always her. They won’t let you get away with this, Grayson.”
“They won’t have a choice.”
She sat on the couch overlooking the winter ocean. “Do you know why I hate Christmas? It was the one time of year my father’s mistresses could come to Du Lac Manor. My mother had to play good hostess and act like what was happening wasn’t a knife to the soul. For
most, Christmas is the happiest time of the year. For us, it was the darkest.”
My chest twisted, and I fell beside Lottie. Christmas had always been the darkest for me for the exact same fucking reason. I’d first promised myself I’d never be my father next to the tree, as I watched my mother hide her pain.
The waves crashed on the wintry sand as I watched my wife, saw a life that had seemingly been mapped by fate since the beginning.
She turned to me, eyes bright and earnest. “You need more time. I’ll give you time. I’ll give however long you need.”
“Lottie, I love her. I’ll never stop loving her.”
“You would give me everything? Even though all of it is going to go to my brother?”
We would be out of this world—both Snitch and I. West du Lac could jack off into a pile of money like Scrooge McFuck for all I cared.
I’d finally have my girl.
I sat beside her, pulling her hand into mine. “We’ll be free, both of us. I’ll take all the responsibility. You won’t leave this marriage with a scratch. No dark holidays. None of that.”
“I’ll never be free,” she muttered.
“Lottie.” I gripped her face. “What is going on?”
There was something on her mind. I couldn’t believe she was happy in this marriage, happy with Snitch always between us.
She yanked her head out of my hands and reached for the discarded papers. She put them on the glass table in front of us, scribbling her name.
“There.” She thrust the papers into my lap. “Let me know when I should expect my divorce.”
“Lottie…”
“It won’t work,” she said. “Whatever you’re trying to do, it won’t work. Your grandfather won’t let you give everything up; my parents won’t let you leave me. We’re stuck together now. None of this will work. People like us don’t get to choose our fates, Grayson.”
Maybe she was right. Maybe all this would be for naught. But I reached for my green pen, and signed my name next to hers in green ink.
Hoping that fate would listen.
Despite what I’d just signed, I would be faithful to Lottie until my marriage dissolved. I wouldn’t start a life with Snitch with stains on our souls. I knew that was as important to her as it was to me. I would build us our perfect happily ever after.
Even if I had to burn everything to the ground.
Forty-Six