Page 30 of The Wrong Groom

Neither of us is used to sharing our space, and it’s awkward to navigate the bedroom, a delicate dance of avoidance. I unpack a few more of my clothes and manage to find my hairbrush. As I move toward the bathroom, I almost collide with Gabriel, who’s coming out at the same time. We both pause, the air charged with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment.

“Sorry,” I murmur, stepping back to give him space.

“No, you first,” he says, leaning against the doorframe.

I nod gratefully and slip into the bathroom, taking a moment to compose myself. I run the brush through my hair, wincing as it catches on tangles.

After splashing some water on my face, I take a deep breath and step out of the bathroom. Gabriel is now standing by the window, looking out at the morning light spilling into the room. The sun casts a warm glow around him as he buttons up his shirt. The collar stands on end, giving him a slightly disheveled look that only adds to his charm. For a moment, I find myself captivated.

Then I notice that he’s staring at me, and I drop my gaze to the floor, my heart hammering in my chest.

He steps closer to me. “I didn’t know you had freckles,” he says.

Internally, I wince. I meant to put on makeup before he saw me again. Just another thing I fucked up this morning.

“I usually cover them up,” I admit.

He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he says, his voice low, “You shouldn’t.”

I suck in a short breath, startled.

“They suit you,” he adds.

I have no idea what to make of that, but the way he’s looking at me makes my heart race.

“Th-thank you,” I stammer.

He turns away, his fingers working at the buttons close to his throat. I watch the sinew of his forearms as he moves, the muscles shifting under his skin. I can’t tear my gaze away from him.

Before I can stop myself, before I can think logically about what I’m doing, I blurt out, “I don’t want you to sleep with other women.”

He freezes like a deer caught in headlights, his expression shifting from relaxed to tense in an instant.

“I mean—” I start, scrambling to recover. “That came out wrong. What I meant was… while we’re married, I…”

I pause, trying to collect my thoughts, but I can’t. They’re scattered all over the place, a jumbled mess all over the thick, white carpet.

“I know what you said last night, but just because you’re not sleeping with me, even if this isn’t real, I-I don’t want you being with other women.”

He stares at me, his expression completely unreadable, and I take a deep, shuddering breath. I can’t believe I just said that. I don’t even know where it came from.

“I won’t sleep with anyone else as long as we’re married,” he says slowly. “I give you my word.”

Something in my chest relaxes. “Okay. Th-thank you.” I turn away, trying to hide the relief flooding through me.

“The same goes for you,” he says, his voice stopping me in my tracks.

I glance back at him. “What?”

His gaze is intense, focused. “I don’t want my wife sleeping with other men, either. As long as we’re married, no matter how unconventional it is, I want you to be mine.”

I nod, my heart in my throat. The idea had never even occurred to me, but he seems so serious, so determined.

“I—I won’t sleep with other men,” I assure him. “I promise.”

As if there’s any chance of that, anyway.

Chapter 11