“To where?” Eloise asked.
I swallowed hard, knowing what was coming would hurt her. But it was truth time. “Vegas.”
She sat up, her body still draped across mine but her chin lifted, her shoulders stiffening.
Yep. This was going to fucking suck.
“It was just supposed to be for fun. A chance for me to clear my head. We went out that first night. Partied at a club. An hour later, we were at a chapel to get married.”
It had been Sam’s idea. If Dan hadn’t died, would I have taken her up on it? I’d asked myself that countless times. But that night, I’d just wanted to feel . . . loved.
“You got married in Vegas,” Eloise said.
I nodded.
“Which chapel?”
Fuck. “The Clover Chapel.”
“Our chapel.” Eloise sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. Horror, betrayal, was written across her expression. “That’s how you knew where it was.”
“It was an asshole move, taking you there. I’m sorry. But when you were talking about that ugly horse drawing, how you covered it up with something beautiful, I wanted that. I wanted a new picture. I wanted to erase Sam’s ugly. And you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
Her jaw flexed, her nostrils flaring like they normally did when she was pissed. Like she’d done downstairs before marching out into the storm. “You’d seen me before that night.”
“Yeah.” I shifted, sitting up so I could lock my gaze with hers. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
“Which guarantees I won’t like what you’re about to say.” She rolled her eyes. “This ought to be great.”
Damn, but I loved that eye roll. That sass.
“I didn’t see you before that night.” I leaned in, dropping my forehead to hers. “I was focused on Foster. On his fight. On shifting my life to Montana, even temporarily. I wasn’t in a frame of mind to see anyone.”
Eloise sighed, and with that exhale, some of her irritation seemed to fade.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“Yup. Like when we were standing at. The. Altar.” She poked my chest, accentuating every word. “That would have been a great time to mention you’d been there before.”
“I’m sorry.” I captured her hand, squeezing so she couldn’t fold in that poking finger. Then I brought it to my lips for a kiss. “I’m sorry, Eloise.”
Another sigh. And from the softness in her pretty blue eyes, I was forgiven. “What happened then?”
I leaned back, dropping my gaze to the bed, still keeping her hand in mine. “Sam and I went home. Our parents were pissed, to say the least. Not that they hadn’t expected us to get married, they’d just missed the opportunity to host a party for their friends. To show off their perfect match.”
“What do you mean, their perfect match?”
“They took credit for us being together. Like it was something they’d planned from the beginning.” I’d always thought that was ridiculous. How my parents could give so little of a shit about me but, when it came to my marriage to Sam, be so angry to be excluded.
“Things with Samantha were . . . okay.” The changes I’d ignored had started to come to light. But I’d just kept on ignoring them. “I did my thing. She did hers. She’d gotten a job, but I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, so I kept working at the dojo and started training on the side. That’s how I got into it. Spent four years at Georgetown and haven’t once used my degree.”
“What did you get your degree in?”
“Communications.”
“Communications? You’re kidding.” Eloise snorted. “This is the most I’ve ever heard you speak. Ever. I think you need to call Georgetown and ask for a refund. Or maybe Georgetown is where you learned how to communicate with grunts and nods? Because if that’s the case, then don’t worry, babe. You use your degree every single day.”
I laughed. Loud. I tipped my head to the ceiling and let it roar. I let it free. I laughed like I hadn’t done in years, until all that was left was a smile.
Eloise had a smug grin on her face when I faced her. She knew she’d earned that laugh. She knew, without needing to ask, that it was rare.
“Anyway . . .” I pinched her rib, making her squeal and swat at my hand. “About six months later, I came home from the gym to find Sam had invited a couple over. They were people she’d met through a mutual friend.”
A friend I’d despised. Another red flag ignored.
“I thought she’d planned a double date. So I took a quick shower. Joined them to eat. They were nice. It was just a normal dinner. Until Sam pulled me aside later and asked if I liked the woman.”
“Wait. What?” Eloise sat ramrod straight. “Why would she ask you that?”
“Because she wanted to fuck the man and hoped I’d fuck the wife in the guest bedroom. That’s the night she informed me we were going to have an open marriage.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ELOISE
“You’re kidding.”
Jasper shook his head. “Nope.”
“You have to be kidding.”
He shook his head again.
My jaw hit the sheets.
Oh, how I hated his ex-wife. I hated her for the tension that crept into Jasper’s body when he mentioned her name. For the way his voice changed when he spoke about her. It was rougher, harder, like she was this infected wound oozing puss, and just the thought of her caused him pain. But mostly, my hate was driven from envy.
I hated that he’d loved her for so long. I hated that she’d gotten his firsts, marriage included. I hated that she’d been with him at the Clover Chapel.
The night we’d gotten married wasn’t exactly special. I couldn’t remember the words the officiant had spoken. I hadn’t worn a stunning gown. We hadn’t exchanged vows surrounded by friends and family.
Still, since Vegas, I’d considered that mine. Ours. Even though this marriage was fake, I’d never forget that beautiful chapel.
Now there was a nasty stain splashed across the doors. The stain’s name was Samantha.
She was an ugly horse.
Maybe I should have been more offended that he’d taken me there. But the moment he’d explained why, that he needed a good memory to outshine the bad, well . . . I was honored that Jasper considered me that good. That I was the beauty he’d needed.
But I still hated his ex.
I’d heard of open marriages through celebrity gossip rags and random social media videos. But the concept wasn’t for me. The idea of my husband fucking another woman? No. Hard no. I was too selfish and too territorial to share.
“So was Sam cheating?” I asked.
“She didn’t consider it cheating because it was simply physical. She loved me. She was committed to me.”
I scoffed. “Then her definition of commitment is different than mine.”
Jasper dropped his gaze to the sheet between us and something about the stiffness in his frame made my pulse rocket. Like he was dreading what he was about to tell me.
Oh, hell. Had he gone along with it? Was he okay with an open marriage?
“What did you do?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.