else I could call when Ford cleared his throat. “I’ll do it,” he said.
“Wait, what?”
“Why not?” he said. “I can talk to them about real estate and business in general—that would be helpful, right?”
For a moment I just stared at him, surprised and overwhelmed by gratitude.
“Honestly, that would be amazing.”
“Cool. Let’s set a date then,” he said, pulling out his phone and looking at his calendar.
Unlike anyone else I’d dealt with all day, I had Ford written into the schedule in seconds—and then confirmed via pinkie swear. It immediately put me in a better mood.
It also seemed to dissolve any lingering tension between me and Ford, to the point that after I’d put my laptop away, I felt like I could hang out with him almost normally.
Over the next few days, we finally started getting into a daily routine as a couple. We were figuring out how to live together, taking turns with chores and meals, learning each other’s rhythms. His apartment even began to feel more like home. And our relationship solidified, in a sense—not into a real marriage exactly, but more like how it used to be. Comforting and safe.
We woke up around the same time, though Ford got ready for the day a lot quicker than I did. Because of that, he’d usually go to the kitchen and feed Munchkin before making coffee for us. I’d always started my day with a meal, but eating a solid breakfast was apparently a bit of a new concept for Ford. Still, he took to it readily, and we’d take turns cooking.
I figured out pretty quickly that he liked his eggs with cheese scrambled into them, and I noticed that he quietly changed to turkey bacon after I mentioned my preference for it. We’d sit there eating companionably each morning, secretly feeding Munchkin the crusts of our toast under the table, both of us pretending we weren’t.
Afterward, we’d catch up on emails while we finished our coffee, and then head out to our separate offices (or my loft, if I had a photoshoot lined up). For the majority of our waking hours, we conducted our lives completely apart, with minimal communication.
We had a dinner routine as well. Neither of us were much for cooking, so we usually just got takeout, picked up by whoever was going to get home the latest. Whoever got home first would set the wine to breathing.
We’d eat and drink and talk about work or my nonprofit, and then we’d take Munchkin out for his evening walk. Once we were in bed, we’d revert to beast mode, fucking each other senseless, but the next day we would act like it had never happened.
All in all, my married life was fun and easy and simple.
We didn’t mention our problems, and we especially didn’t talk about sex—and how it was starting to feel more and more like the only place where we could really share our feelings without any words at all. At least, that was how it felt for me.
Right now, it was the best I could hope for.
Emzee
Chapter 11
It was my first Vault Lunch with The Wives since I’d gotten back from the honeymoon. I was eager to see my sisters-in-law and catch up, but also a little nervous. I knew that having lunch with them would require some measure of playing pretend.
Everything had changed since our last ladies’ outing…and at the same time, nothing had. Because regardless of the devil’s bargain I’d made with the senior Malones to make the Bratva go away (which had to remain a secret from everyone), I was still so in love with Ford that it hurt. And I was pretty sure he was still in love with Claudia. I’d never escape her shadow.
Day to day, I’d been able to keep up a front of not caring about the true state of my marriage—and ignoring the countdown to the divorce I’d agreed to—but I had my doubts that I’d succeed in such subterfuge around Tori and Brooklyn. Those two were like bloodhounds. They’d know something was up, something beyond the fact of the marriage being a joint deception by me and my husband.
Not only that, but the nice, new normal that Ford and I had established was something that I cherished. Going to lunch with my sisters would pop the happy little bubble of normalcy we’d created. Some selfish part of me wished I could just cancel on them and continue living in my fantasy version of reality.
But no. That