I lifted my chin cockily and said, “Don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure I can handle Blaire.” Her eyes snapped to mine, and I could see something hot burning in them—lust, maybe?—and I fought to not punch the air in victory. As the man turned to leave, I cut my eyes at him and said, “I don’t believe I got your name.”

He placed a hand on my bicep, and I flexed involuntarily. “Oh, I apologize for my rudeness. I’m Evan Cavanaugh, Blaire’s husband,” he said with a smile before turning and walking away.

Husband? What. The. Fuck? I felt like someone had sucker punched me right in the gut. My mind drifted to Wish Bear sitting in that box in my closet, still wearing the engagement ring on the ribbon around his neck. Waiting until the day that Blaire and I found our way back to each other. Well, now we had, but it was too fucking late. She was already…

Married. The word pulsed in my brain like a giant vascular tumor

I tilted my Shiner Bock back and drained it. Then I grabbed the champagne glass from Blaire’s hand and sculled that, too. It still wasn’t enough to calm me down as I sucked in deep, heaving breaths. She was looking up at me, a tiny wrinkle marring the perfect skin of her forehead.

I need to get the fuck out of here before I do something stupid. “Blaire, I… I have to… I’m sorry,” I blurted before putting the bottle and glass hastily on the table and heading swiftly toward the door.

Out in the hallway, I took in a few heaving breaths before putting my forearm against the wall and resting my forehead against my fist. Blaire’s husband. Blaire’s husband. Blaire’s husband. Those two fucking words were rolling around in my head like a ball bearing on an endless circular track. I was supposed to be Blaire’s goddamn husband. Me.

A gentle hand touched my back tentatively. Before she even spoke, I knew it was her. I remembered her soft, sweet touch. I wanted to pull away, but my mind flashed back to that fateful night when she had touched my back and I had pulled away and said disgusting, vile things to her. Things that had taken her from me. So, no matter how much it hurt to feel her hand on me, I didn’t move a muscle.

“Axel, what’s wrong?” Her voice still sounded like honey, and it almost undid me. I lifted my head and pressed my mouth against my fist until my lips smashed painfully against my teeth. I could feel my whole body shaking, and I knew she could feel it, too, because she started rubbing soothing little circles on my back. “Ax?”

“Is it true? You’re married?”