Page 26 of Downfall

I run my hands through my hair, and she rolls her eyes in annoyance. “I have to be married in order to access it.”

Oh.

“Which I am. Married, that is. So my proposal is⁠—”

“You proposing to me again, Firefly?”

The words spill out before I can catch them. I told myself I wouldn’t call her that again unless I got her trust back. That name was ours, only whispered in the quiet of the night and through secret messages. Ashton didn’t even know about it. Remembering that night—her worry for me and that kiss—made my brain short-circuit. Calling her that again felt like the most natural thing in the world.

It’s too late. She’s pissed as hell, liquid fire flashing in her eyes as she stands abruptly. “This was a mistake.”

“Skylar. It slipped out.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“What exactly are you telling me?”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“I know.”

We’re having two different conversations. She paces back and forth a few times, her eyes squeezing closed in concentration. I want to reach up and smooth out the lines of worry forming across her brow, but I don’t. I stay still, quiet, while she figures out her next move.

“I’m asking you to stay married to me for the next six weeks so I can get access to my trust,” she finally says all in one breath. “In return, I’ll give you a cut of it. We can work out the specifics later…or now if that makes you more comfortable. Then after my birthday we get a divorce. From the research I’ve done, we weren’t likely to be granted an annulment, anyway. We don’t have to see each other or even speak. I’ll let you know if there’s anything I need from you when I meet with my dad’s attorney again, but other than that, we can go our separate ways. We don’t need to⁠—”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Just like that?” Her voice is shaky like she’s close to tears. Is this why she was crying earlier? “You’re not going to ask why I want the money?”

“Do you want me to ask?”

“No.”

“Then, no, I’m not going to ask. I do have a condition, though.”

Her eyes roll, forcing out the lone tear edging along the surface of her lid. “Of course you do.”

“We live together.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I press on. “I don’t do things half-assed, Skylar. You know that. If we’re going to be married for the next six weeks, we’re acting like it.” Her eyes go wide, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Within reason,” I add.

Her eyes dart to mine, something between resignation and exhaustion shaping her features. “I’m not—I can’t⁠—”

“That’s my condition, Skylar.” It kills me to say the words, but I think it might be worse if I didn’t say them. This is selfish. I know it is, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “Take it or leave it.”

She looks around the room at everything but me. I have to convince every single cell in my body to turn my back on her, but I do.

I haven’t even reached the door handle when she calls out. “Wait.” Her soft footsteps break the silence. “I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll come back in the morning to help you move your stuff.”

“Me?” she snaps. “Why am I the one moving?”

I look around her tiny cottage, my gaze sweeping over the kitchenette and landing on the closed door at the end of the small hallway. “I mean, if you want to share a bedroom, I’m up for it.”

She crosses her arms, looking off to the side, no doubt unwilling to make eye contact with me for whatever she’s about to say.