Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Me?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I groan, letting my head fall against his shoulder.
“Show me,” he says, handing me back the sketchbook.
I do as he asks, flipping through different days until I find some sketches of him at the beginning. I don’t think they’re very impressive considering they were done from memory. Details are always lost when the subject isn’t directly in front of me. I explain that to Walt, but it’s almost like he doesn’t even hear me. He tilts the page and looks closer.
Eventually, he asks, “Why’d you sketch me?”
I shrug. “I don’t know…I’ve always found you compelling, ever since the day we got married.”
“Compelling?”
“Yes, even when you acted like an aloof jerk with all that ‘contact me only if there’s an emergency’ business.”
I’m teasing, but he doesn’t laugh. He continues looking through the sketches, flipping between pages, almost as if he’s trying to read between the lines. I’m not sure what he’s hoping to find there. I didn’t imbue the paper with any secrets.
He looks over at me as he closes my sketchbook and hands it back.
“I admit this was an odd arrangement,” he points out. “Us getting married the way we did.”
I nod. “Right.”
“And to be frank, I’m still not sure what to make of it. Before this week, well…I could clearly define us in my head. Things made sense. We married for very specific reasons.”
“Yes. Don’t worry—I haven’t forgotten the hefty contract I signed.”
He takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together.
“But…things have obviously changed.”
I watch him swallow, suddenly worried about what will happen to us.
“Elizabeth! Walt!” A voice booms down the hall. “Do either of you ever answer your damn phones!?”
Twenty-Five
I nearly leap out of my skin when Matthew walks into the library, waving his phone in the air. Then he glances over, stops dead in his tracks, and slaps his free hand over his eyes.
“Are y’all having sex?! Please, dear god, don’t tell me I just walked in on that.”
“Relax,” Walt tells him.
I try to scoot off Walt’s lap, but he tightens his hold on me.
I shoot him a glare, and he relents, holding up his arms and letting me stand.
Matthew’s fingers split over his eyes so he can peer through them. Once he sees me on my feet again, he drops his hand with a relieved sigh.
“Phew.” He grins. “I would have needed a lot of therapy for that.”
“What are you doing here?” Walt asks, not sounding all that pleased to see his brother.
Matthew shrugs, unbothered by the cold greeting, and steps in to peruse the room and the changes Walt has made to it since I first moved in. “Just checking up on you guys. I haven’t heard from Elizabeth in a while, and I wanted to be sure you two were still alive.” Then he points at Walt. “And you, by the way, never respond to my texts.”
“Because you’re nosy.”
“Hey now, I was only asking questions on Elizabeth’s behalf. Be mad at her too.”
Walt’s gaze shifts to me, and I smile innocently. Then, with a shrug, he casts off his brother’s demand.
“Oh, I see,” Matthew says, pointing between us. “You two are a team now and I’m the one out on my own lonely island?”
“I don’t know if I would call us a team,” I say.
“We were just discussing that,” Walt adds, trying to get me to meet his eyes again. Instead, I take my sketchbook and walk over to tuck it back among all my supplies.
Matthew laughs and strolls over to take a seat near Walt.
“Any chance you’ll offer me a drink?” Matthew asks.
“You have legs.”
“Such hospitality. How do you do it?”
I pipe up. “I’ll get you something. What do you want?”
Matthew grins. “Whiskey. Neat, please.”
“Walt?” I ask, on my way out of the room.
He nods. “Sure. Thanks.”
When I walk back into the library with their drinks in hand, they’re seemingly back to normal.
“So what’s the deal? Are you two…?” Matthew tacks on a two-tone whistle as a euphemism for the question he wants to ask.
Walt completely ignores him, opting to take a casual sip of his drink instead. Then Matthew looks to me and I try to affect the same unruffled appearance, but there’s no use. I fidget on my feet, look away, and blush like a ripe red tomato.
Matthew laughs. “Right then. I guess that’s good considering you’re married and all. Wait.” His gaze flits between us. “How does that work? Dating while you’re already married must be super weird. How long do you guys have to keep up this charade anyway?”
“Six months should be enough time to revoke the trust,” Walt responds casually.
I flinch, completely taken aback.
Six months? What is he talking about?
In the legal documents his lawyers sent, there was no set timeline stipulated for our marriage. I took that to mean we would be married for life, or at least the life of the trust. Meaning, as long as there was money to be dispersed to the beneficiaries, Walt and I would be married. For better or worse as long as we both shall live.