Page 91 of Queen’s Gambit

“Thanks, Paul. You always know what to say to cheer me up. I’ve really appreciated your friendship.”

“You’ll always have it, Yuli. You know that I love you and Ed, and I’ll do anything for you.”

I touched my sore cheek and the sting was a reminder of what I was fighting to escape. “That’s good because one of these days, I’ll ask you for that favor.”

“Name it, and it’s yours.”

“Thank you…oh, and Paul. I know you made a dashing groomsman.”

“I really do,” he said, making me laugh. “I better get back to the party, but Yuli….”

“I know….go have fun.”

“I will, and I’ll tell him that you love him,” Paul said and hung up the phone.

Covering my mouth, I swallowed down the pain like I had every day since my birthday. There was so much bottled anger and resentment at this point that I was sure my blood was toxic. As one fat tear slid down my cheek, I reminded myself that it was all part of the plan. But it didn’t stop the sharp pain piercing my chest.

“One day, Eddie. One day, we’ll have our happily ever after if it’s the last thing I do.”

Edmundo

“Can you at least try to smile and pretend that you’re happy,” Patricia asked as we danced.

Instead of responding, I stopped and walked off the dance floor without her.

“Eddie, where are you going?”

“To get a drink,” I said, aiming for Paul and Marcus, who were standing near the bar.

Paul held out a glass, and I didn’t even bother to ask what it was before swallowing. The whiskey burned all the way down my throat to my stomach, but it couldn’t burn away the ache in my chest.

This marriage was for contract purposes only, and it still felt wrong. Nothing about the day had been the way I’d imagined my wedding. Everything, from the million and two guests, the lavish flowers that Ana would’ve hated, and what felt like a ten-course meal that cost a fortune, was wrong.

“You look like you’re going to throw that back up,” Marcus said, screwing up his face.

“I don’t know if I can do this. Living the lie for a day is bad enough. What if it ends up being years?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the pounding in my head that had started this morning and only gotten worse.

“You’ll do what you have to do,” Paul said, and I glared at him. “Patricia can’t be worse than Christov. Think of the bullshit Yuli is dealing with.”

“Don’t,” I said, pointing at him. “I want to hop on my jet and fly there right now. It’s taking every ounce of willpower I possess to keep my shit together.”

“My point is that if she can deal with him, then you can handle this,” Paul said, grabbing the empty glass from my hand and giving me his instead.

“I hate logic,” I growled as a hand clapped me on the shoulder.

I looked up to see Mr. Mencioni.

“There’s my boy. I have to say that I’m elated you came around. Listen, I know you are booked for your honeymoon starting tomorrow, but as soon as you’re back, I want to talk about expanding some real estate. There are three locations overseas that will be perfect for state-of-the-art office buildings. We’ll make a mint.”

“Papa, are you talking business already? Eddie and I have barely been married a few hours,” Patricia said, and I rolled my eyes. She was like a bloodhound I couldn’t escape.

“Guilty as charged. We’ll talk in a week, Son.”

“Yup,” I said, managing a smile despite my lack of enthusiasm.

As soon as he was out of earshot, I glared at Patricia.