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How insulting was that?
He’d targeted me because I was a good cop, single, and had no other romantic prospects. I wondered whether he and his team had discussed the female detectives in the department before selecting me and had ultimately decided I’d be desperate enough for love to overlook any red flags.
Zeke sighed. “Yes, I’d say it’s likely that you were chosenbecause you’re a single female detective with a reputation for being by-the-book.”
I felt sick as I considered the ramifications. Not only had I been manipulated, but I’d been taken advantage of by someone who’d vowed to love me. I’d fallen for his act completely.
No wonder West was an undercover specialist. He’d convinced me that he was my happily-ever-after.
I’d never had a shred of doubt.
“Do you think our entire relationship is just an angle he was working?” I asked, hating that I could cling to hope even in the face of this evidence. “Is anything about our marriage real?”
Did he feel anything for me at all?
“Technically, you aren’t married.” Zeke’s tone was achingly gentle. “I’ve checked the paperwork. He filed it using his alias, which isn’t who he legally is. Ergo, you aren’t legally married.”
My hand flew to my mouth, and I forgot how to breathe. Somehow, it was this fact that brought home the magnitude of West’s deception. I’d willingly tied myself to a man who didn’t exist. I’d eloped at West’s suggestion, thinking it so romantic that he didn’t want to wait when, in reality, our farce of a marriage was just a necessary step in his charade.
At least I hadn’t dropped a lot of money on a fancy reception or a honeymoon. The only thing I’d splurged on was my dress. We’d agreed to honeymoon for our one-year anniversary instead of immediately after the wedding since everything had happened so quickly.
Exactly the way he’d intended it to.
My chest constricted, and I struggled to draw in a breath.
“Are you okay?” Zeke asked.
“I can’t… I c-can’t…”
I couldn’t even string two words together, let alone enough to explain the complicated tangle of emotion and panic winding tighter in my chest.
“Joanna,” he said sharply. “Close your eyes. Now breathe with me. In-two-three-four. Out-two-three-four. In-two-three-four. Out-two-three-four.”
My lungs screamed as I did my best to follow his instructions. After a minute or so, some of the pressure eased.
“Thank you,” I murmured, embarrassed by how overwrought I’d become.
“Do you need me to call someone to be with you?” he asked.
“No.” The last thing I wanted was for anyone to see me like this.
He didn’t speak for a long moment, but then said, “Okay. There’s something else. Do you think you can handle it?”
“Yes.” I’d always been a person to tear off a Band-Aid quickly.
“You never won that trip to Canada. It was a setup from the beginning. Conti’s boss bought two tickets and arranged for you to be declared the winner of a false contest that never existed.”
A bitter sob escaped me. “He staged our meet cute.”
Of course. Because not even that could be legitimate.
“At least you got a free trip out of it,” Zeke offered, but I wasn’t in the mood to look on the bright side.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“For now.” He hesitated. “Are you sure there’s no one I can get to sit with you?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
