“I don’t pay you to be concerned over family matters.”
I clench a fistful of my dress. “Lucky for you I’m doing this for free.”
His eyes return to the screen of his phone. “Don’t bother. I’m not going to dinner with Rowan and his girlfriend.”
“Zahra. Her name is Zahra.”
“Her name is as irrelevant as her relationship is with my brother.”
I can’t remove the horrific look off my face. “God, your ability to hold a grudge is terrifying.”
“Consider it a lesson to not get on my bad side.”
“Lately it’s starting to feel like every side is your bad side.”
“Who knew having a wife would be this good for my ego?” His voice takes on a sarcastic tone.
“It’s a wife’s job to call you out on your bullshit because the rest of the world sure as hell won’t. Not when they’re too afraid to speak up around you.”
“What part of we’re not a real couple do you find difficult to understand?”
My chest tightens. I thought Declan and I were falling into a comfortable friendship, but his mood tonight has me questioning if he was only entertaining me so I wouldn’t back out of our arrangement.
His words from the night of our engagement come back to haunt me. There is nothing I won’t do to earn my inheritance. Remember that when you forget this is only a game to me.
Is that what this all was? A game? Now that he got his way, there’s no reason to play anymore. The idea causes a weird ache in my chest, right above my heart.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. There’s no one to blame but myself. Declan was always clear about his intentions, and I stupidly read into our relationship all wrong.
Why do you care in the first place? This isn’t even real.
Because maybe somewhere along the way, I forgot that all of this was a lie.
I don’t speak to Declan for the remainder of the drive. If ignoring each other was a sport, we would both be team captains with the way neither one of us speaks.
Once Harrison parks the car, I fight my way past pounds of tulle and lace and exit with as much grace as a newborn horse.
“Iris,” Declan calls after me.
I don’t turn around. I’m too afraid that all my emotions will be written clear as day across my face. “I’m going to bed.”
“You forgot your purse.”
The urge to stomp my foot hits me but I refrain. “Right.” Stupid purse. I knew I should have gone with the wedding dress that had pockets.
I turn back, avoiding his eyes as I pull open the door and search the empty back seat.
“Here.” His chest presses against my spine as he traps me between the car and his body. I turn, attempting to avoid skin-to-skin contact and fail. The front of his tux brushes against my bodice, sending a ripple of heat through me.
He offers my clutch. The glittery Mrs. Kane shines underneath the overhead lights, looking just as horrendous as the day the wedding planner gifted me the accessory. Based on the expression on Declan’s face, he equally dislikes the way his name is flaunted like a show pony. I might not have experienced the same issues as him growing up, but I’m starting to understand him a bit more. Based on the way people treated me at the wedding, becoming a Kane feels like an open invitation for clout chasers and career climbers to have at me.
I stare down at the clutch, which serves as a reminder of my duty. Of the promise I made to Declan to stand by him no matter what.
No matter how much he schemes to get his way.
“Do you mind?” I gesture for him to move back.
He steps out of the way. I attempt to make my escape, only to be held back by Declan gripping onto my elbow. His hold doesn’t hurt, but it speaks a silent request.
Stay.
But why?
“Yes?” I ask.
“Is it that bad?”
I look up at him. “What?”
“The idea of becoming my wife.”
I swear, the rise and fall of his moods tonight is driving me insane.
“And you care about my opinion all of a sudden? I’m not sure you pay me enough for that kind of service.”
His jaw clenches. “Answer the question.”
“No.”
“Must you always be this impossible?”
“I don’t know. Must you always act like an asshole?”
“It’s not an act.”
I rear back, ripping my elbow from his grasp. “Trust me. It might have taken me much longer than others, but I finally understand why everyone calls you that.”
His long blink speaks for itself. “What?”
“The way you treated me tonight—on our wedding night no less—is unacceptable. But I guess you couldn’t care less about how or when you hurt other people’s feelings, as long as you get your way.”
“What I said in the car—”
I hold up my hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my fault for setting unrealistic expectations about us in the first place.”
His eyes narrow ever so slightly.
I keep going, wanting to clear the air once and for all. “I never did all of this for love. Obviously.” An awkward laugh forces its way out of me. “I only wanted to help you because I thought we were friends. And yes, before you say you never wanted to be my friend, I’m aware it was probably stupid to think that. I’ve since learned my lesson.”
He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “I realize I don’t want to be your friend either. Because getting close to you means questioning your motives about everything, and frankly, that’s way too much effort for someone who doesn’t seem to like me in the first place.”
14
IRIS
I hold my head up high the entire walk toward my bedroom. Rather than feel unsettled from my conversation with Declan, I’m hit with a wave of calmness. It seems like we are finally back to where we stood with one another before our whirlwind engagement. Sure, a cake tasting and a family dinner might have been a fun change of pace for us, but that’s all it was.
A show for the masses—kind of like a Royal Tour.
It takes me a whole twenty minutes to undo hours of hair and makeup. I might have ripped off half my eyelashes from lash glue, but it’s a small price to pay for finally feeling like myself again.
By the time I get to removing my dress, I almost throw out my back trying to undo the vintage buttons lining my spine.
“Motherfucker.” I grunt as I twist and turn in front of a full-length mirror. Nothing works, and I’m stuck staring at my reflection with my hands on my hips.
There’s no way you’re getting out of this dress by yourself. I let out a resigned sigh as I swallow my pride and exit my room.
My fist knocking against Declan’s door echoes off the tall ceilings. I stand there, waiting for him to open up. The pressure in my chest builds as time ticks by. Ten seconds turns into thirty, and before I know it, I’m knocking again. “Declan! I need your help!”
Well, that hurts to admit. If he was sleeping, he sure isn’t now. The jangle of the doorknob gives me hope that I won’t need to fall asleep in my wedding dress tonight.