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That's all I have.
No logic.
No facts.
No rationality.
Only pure instinct.
That's not a good reason.
"If that's what she wants," I say.
That's not the entire truth, but it's close enough.
I wouldn't ever want to trap her. I would never want to be with anyone who didn't want to be with me.
But especially not Daphne.
Cassie nods with understanding. "I'm sorry."
I let my gaze shift to the bright blue sky. A beautiful day. No clouds. No problems. "Shit happens."
She nods.
I text Daphne before I can change my mind.
Jackson: We can talk whenever you're ready. Don't worry about breaking news to me. If you were too drunk to remember the marriage, you weren't fit to sign a contract. We can annul the whole thing and move on with our lives. If that's what you want.
Cassie glances at the screen, sees I'm texting her best friend, waits for me to finish. After I set the phone face down on the table, she says, "Look at it this way; at least now, Damon and I can't be mad at the two of you ever having sex."
"You can't?" I ask. "Can I get that in writing?"
She shakes her head. "Absolutely not." Her expression is easy, teasing, but I still feel the weight of the betrayal.
Is it all in my head? "You're not mad?"
"No. I gave her my blessing A little while ago. Not that she needed it." She taps her chin. "That would be a fun role reversal, wouldn't it? Instead of you, growling at Damondon't touch my sister, as if I'm your property, I claim ownership of you." She stands up and addresses the room as if she's giving a speech. "No one can sleep with my brother until I say they can."
"You're deranged," I say.
"A deranged feminist icon," she says.
She's right. I've had friends ask my permission to ask Cassie out, as if, as her brother, I had some sort of right to approve or disapprove of her partners.
And I told most of themhell, no. I certainly expressed my distrust of her current boyfriend.
She didn't ask.
She didn't want my opinion.
I was trying to protect her, yes, but it wasn't my choice to make.
Even so—"You sound like Zack."
She laughs. "Oh my god. Do Rosencrantz and Guildenstern know about this yet?"
"Is that a literary reference?" I tease.
