"Yes."
Standing up, he grazes his finger from my thigh to my wrist. Pulling my little hand out between us, he slides the ring onto my finger. I gape at it. It's big. A deep-red teardrop with sheer cut facets that shine pink, purple, and claret. The band is a white metal - white gold or platinum.
I breathe in deep, the air returning to my lungs like a gift of possibility. Of hope. The wind whirls around me as I stand on our block with his baby in my belly and his promise on my finger. I lift my head up to meet his eyes and can't help myself. I leap into his arms and we pepper kisses all over each other's faces.
And even though he broke my heart today. . .
He tied it back together again with the promise of our future.
It just has to wait. I can wait for him.
Mrs Cassidy Butcher.
Max
Three days, seventeen hours, and thirty-four minutes left.
Across from where I'm sitting on the outdoor sofa, nursing my whiskey neat and pretending I don't know the minutes until I am forced to leave her, I watch as my brothers, Ben Slater, and Konnor attempt a game of rugby. Too bad they can't get through ten minutes without arguing over the fundamentals of 'holding the ball'. It's in the name, dickheads. But Bronson just hates letting that fucker go. He's shit at following the rules in sports; such a trait applies to all aspects of his life.
I fix my eyes on Toni, Aurora, Felicity, and Stacey as they stand by the grassed area, watching the men play. There might as well be four women up there with the way Toni carries on. I like the guy. I don't pretend to understand him, but I like the way he adores Cassidy.
"Let's let Konnor make the calls, hey? He's the only professional on the grass." Xander yells out to me, "The other is sitting on his arse."
I scoff, taking a sip of my whiskey.
Konnor glares at me and I grin at him, tempted to call him my brother-in-law just to watch him squirm. He'll never like me. Not that I blame him. If Cassidy was my little sister, I wouldn’t like me either. I would have ripped my arms off by now, but Konnor plays at being tough when he's actually just as big of a pussy as his father.
To my left, Victoria natters to Renae Slater. The two women are worlds apart in every aspect. Fuck knows what they have to talk about. My son perhaps. I clench my teeth, well aware I'm not good at sharing and yet being forced to learn how to everyday.
Renae projects a smile as Victoria drawls on about something. I find myself wanting to rescue Cassidy's sweet mother from the claws of the woman who birthed me, but I don't. If Renae is anything like her daughter, she can handle her own. What must she think of me, having stolen her baby girl away and made her mine in every way?
My wife. . . I feel fire in my chest when I say that word - wife. I never knew how much I would enjoy the way it rumbles with authority from my tongue. My wife.
My wife giggles with Blesk, wearing the same pretty white dress that she wore three hours ago when she became my most precious possession. Most girls would hate being referred to as a possession, but not my wife. She knows it's a damn fact.
I am hers.
She is mine.
My face feels tight as I scan the backyard. White fairy lights drip from every tree. The sun hits the canal, creating ribbons of silver on the rippling surface. I woke this morning wanting to spend most of the day in bed. Inside my wife. Instead, I was coaxed by her lovely lips to have a small reception. "For our family," she begged. Then pouted. Then dropped to her knees and sucked me so good I would have said yes to just about anything she asked.
At least she allowed me to keep her all to myself for the ceremony - us and a priest.
But if she wants to do it all again when I get out, a big wedding like she deserves, I'll do it. Then. Just not now. My time is short, and I don't want to waste it with my eyes on anyone else besides her. I need my fucking fill.
I set my whiskey down, aware that I'm being a fucking arsehole for not getting up and being charming. But the sight of our two families making a show of how it will work while I'm away feels a lot like a grater on my skin. I should like the view or appreciate it at the very least. I suppose I do.
But when I glare across at them, my awareness of my jealousy spreads through me like blood stains on a shirt. They have a future. In three days, seventeen hours, and thirty-one minutes, they will still be. . . this. Just as they fucking are. Unchanged. Unaffected.
And they'll have her.
They will be able to watch her mouth move when she speaks silly words. Watch her pick at her nail polish when she's nervous. Watch the blush of her cheeks when she's embarrassed.
They'll watch my son grow inside her.
Hold him the day he's born.
Growling, I push up from the outdoor sofa and move into the house. Move away from the scene of happiness being thrown in my fucking face.
"Hey." Cassidy's voice stills me. She rounds me until she is standing between me and the sliding door. Big, golden-hazel eyes gaze up at me with a question. I reach for her hand, lifting it to my lips and kissing her fingers.
"Are you okay?" she says as my lips touch her. I stare at the new rings on her hand. My territory tagged with these two platinum bands. Her engagement ring is a gem cut for royalty.
