Page 22 of Not His Bride

She says nothing.

“Debbie was everything I thought a wife was supposed to be on paper.” I swallow. “But then I met you.”

Lilith’s gaze stays fixed on mine.

“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Funnier than I expected. You have this entire fucking person underneath everything your family tells people about you, and I got one afternoon with her before I ruined it.”

My fingers curl against the edge of the table. “Give me the chance, and I’ll spend it getting to know you and letting you know me. But I realize that longing for something doesn’t mean it’s mine.”

“Look, I appreciate you giving me space.” Her voice is flat, but not cold. “It helped.”

I nod.

“And I believe you mean what you’re saying, but I don’t want to continue with this marriage.”

She delivers it like an agreed fact. Then, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a manila envelope. There’s a clean scrape as she slides it across the wood. Already expecting what’s inside, I slowly open it. Inside are the signed annulment papers.

For a few seconds, all I can do is stare at her name.

I knew this was possible. Fuck, I knew it was probable. She announced it in front of three hundred people, not to mention she told me to my face that she’s done with this marriage. Somehow seeing it in black ink still knocks the air out of me.

Every selfish instinct tells me to push the envelope back across the table and tell her no. Ask for a month, a week, hell, give me another twenty-four hours to convince her to change her mind.

But that would make this about me again.

“Okay.” I hate saying it, but if this is her decision, then I won’t make her fight me for it.

I’m not agreeing because I think it’ll earn me anything. I know it won’t. But the thought of walking away from this table and becoming nothing hurts more than I could have imagined. I barely know her, but somehow, she already feels familiar in a way nobody else ever has.

I get it. I put both hands flat on the table. “Okay. Hear me out.”

She tilts her head, waiting, as I say, “One day. I’m asking for one day to show you who I actually am, in a context that isn’t…this.” I tap the envelope. “I’ll plan the day and handle everything.”

The lines around her eyes ease, just barely. “An afternoon together won’t change anything.”

“I know. And I’m not asking for anything more. I legitimately want to spend time with you and get to know each other. Maybe we’ll feel that connection again, or maybe because of the past, we won’t. Maybe we’ll be friends, or maybe we’ll go our separate ways forever. The point is, I’m asking you to give me one chance and then you can decide.”

Her gaze drops to the envelope, then comes back to me. “You know what, Gallagher? You’ve respected my space, so fine. I’m curious, anyway. One day.”

She stands before I can respond. Shoulders back, hair falling against her collarbone, she says, “My lawyer will have someone formally serve you, but I brought the paperwork so you could see it ahead of time. Those are my copies, but you can keep them. I thought you deserved a heads-up.”

Unlike what I gave her.

I watch her walk away. Since I’m only going to get one shot at winning her over, I’m already planning our day together.

Chapter 10

Lilith

Velvet Masquerade. That’s the name I chose for my business. The name is niche and non-generic—unlike my family, who chose their last name—and perfect. Am I still bitter about them? Yeah.

I draft the company paperwork before breakfast, and it’s submitted before lunch.

The logo follows. I sketch versions on the notepad beside my laptop. The early ones are bad. I keep going until the lines get sharper. Nothing elegant or gold-embossed. The only thing I like is the stark black mask, half-shadowed. Maybe a raven in the corner, but only as a complimentary image, not overwhelming. I picture maroon as the background color.

If Dad saw it, he’d sneer and say, “Too dramatic.” But that’s the point. There are no plain white spaces, nothing that looks like an afterthought from a generic lifestyle company. My branding is niche and not for everyone. No, I won’t appeal to the masses, but those who enjoy my work will pay a premium since a thousand similar products can’t be found within the same store.

This time, my name is on every part of it. I’ll send my sketch ideas to my graphic designer and design team. Thank God for all the consultation work. While I have plenty of money in my savings, it still feels nice to have active revenue coming in that I can put toward lawyers and professionals for developing Velvet Masquerade.