Chapter 2
1624 Words
CHAPTER 2
EXCUSE ME, MY HUSBAND?
Natalie Parker had interviewed politicians who lied with a straight face, CEOs who smiled while their companies burned, and one particularly memorable senator who had somehow forgotten owning three houses.
None of them had prepared her for waking up married to a stranger.
“Where is he?”
Chloe Bennett's voice came from the doorway.
Natalie looked up.
Her best friend stood there with a half-empty coffee cup in one hand and a handbag hanging from her shoulder, her expression caught somewhere between relief and absolute horror.
Then Chloe saw Vincent.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Oh.”
Vincent glanced at her.
Chloe glanced at Natalie.
Then back at Vincent.
“Oh, hell no.”
Natalie almost laughed.
“That's exactly what I said.”
Vincent's expression remained unreadable. “Chloe.”
She stopped.
“You know my name?”
“Your name is difficult to forget.”
Chloe's eyes widened.
Natalie slowly looked between them.
“Why does everyone know everyone except me?”
“Because you're the one with the memory problem,” Chloe said.
“Thank you, Chloe. Very comforting.”
“I'm trying.”
“You're doing terribly.”
Vincent's mouth twitched.
Natalie caught it.
“Did you just smile?”
“No.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I didn't.”
Chloe looked between them.
Then she slowly lowered her coffee.
“Okay. I have questions.”
“So do I.”
Natalie pointed at Vincent.
“Start with him.”
Vincent checked his watch.
“I have a meeting.”
Natalie stared at him.
“You're leaving?”
“I'll return later.”
“That's convenient.”
His eyes settled on hers.
Something about the look made the room suddenly feel smaller.
“I'll return,” he repeated.
Natalie folded her arms.
“Before you go, I have one question.”
“What?”
“Are we actually married?”
Silence.
Vincent's gaze dropped briefly to the ring on her finger.
“Yes.”
The simple answer irritated her more than a complicated one would have.
“Prove it.”
Chloe's eyebrows rose.
Vincent didn't even blink.
“Natalie.”
“Marriage certificates exist for a reason.”
“I know.”
“Then show me ours.”
Something flickered across his face.
There.
Natalie leaned forward.
“You have it?”
“Yes.”
“Then show me.”
Vincent reached for his phone.
A few seconds later, he turned the screen toward her.
Natalie stared.
Her name was there.
**Natalie Parker.**
And beside it—
**Vincent Prescott.**
Her stomach dropped.
There was a date.
A location.
An official registration number.
Everything.
Real.
Legal.
Impossible.
She zoomed in.
Then again.
Chloe leaned over her shoulder.
“Oh my God.”
Natalie swallowed.
“I'm married.”
“Yes,” Chloe said carefully.
“To Vincent Prescott.”
“Yes.”
“The Vincent Prescott?”
Chloe looked at Vincent.
“Unfortunately.”
His eyes narrowed.
Chloe smiled sweetly.
“Nothing personal.”
Natalie ignored them.
She stared at the certificate again.
There was her signature.
Natalie's actual signature.
She knew it immediately.
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
“I signed this.”
“Yes.”
“I willingly signed this?”
Vincent paused.
“Yes.”
Natalie's head snapped up.
“That's worse.”
“Why?”
“Because if somebody kidn*pped me and forced me to marry you, I'd at least have an explanation.”
Vincent's expression flattened.
Chloe covered her mouth.
Natalie looked at her.
“Don't laugh.”
“I wasn't.”
“You're shaking.”
“I'm sick.”
“You're terrible at lying.”
“I'm learning from your husband.”
Vincent looked at Chloe.
“Do you always talk this much?”
“Only around people I dislike.”
“Chloe.”
“Fine. Occasionally around people I tolerate.”
Natalie put a hand against her forehead.
This couldn't be her life.
She had a career.
She had an apartment.
She had a sister.
She had—
Her thoughts stopped.
She looked at Vincent again.
“How long?”
His brow furrowed.
“How long what?”
“Have we been married?”
“A little over a year.”
Natalie's stomach tightened.
The missing year.
She looked at the certificate.
Then at the man standing in front of her.
“So I lost almost the entire period of my marriage.”
Vincent said nothing.
“Did we live together?”
“Yes.”
“Did we sleep in the same room?”
His pause was tiny.
But she caught it.
“No.”
Natalie blinked.
“No?”
“We had separate bedrooms.”
“Why?”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“You preferred it that way.”
“I did?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
“What kind of marriage did I have?”
His gaze held hers.
“One that worked for us.”
“That is possibly the most suspicious answer you could have given me.”
Chloe nodded.
“Strongly agree.”
Vincent ignored her.
Natalie looked down at the ring.
It suddenly felt like evidence.
Not jewelry.
Evidence.
She slipped it from her finger.
Vincent's eyes followed the movement.
Natalie placed it on the hospital tray.
“I don't want this.”
Something changed in his face.
It was so brief she almost missed it.
A tightening around his mouth.
A flicker in his eyes.
Then nothing.
“Fine.”
The word was quiet.
Too quiet.
Natalie frowned.
“You're not going to argue?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't remember choosing it.”
That shut her up.
For a second, she didn't know what to say.
Vincent stepped toward the door.
Natalie watched him.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
She hated the strange feeling in her chest.
She didn't know this man.
She shouldn't care whether he'd been hurt by her taking off the ring.
So why did she?
“Do I love you?”
Vincent went completely still.
Chloe's face softened.
Natalie wished she hadn't asked.
Vincent slowly turned around.
His eyes met hers.
There was something in them that made Natalie forget every clever response she'd prepared.
“I don't know what you remember,” he said.
“That isn't what I asked.”
His jaw flexed.
Natalie waited.
Finally, Vincent said, “You should rest.”
Her eyes widened.
“Oh, that's not an answer.”
“It wasn't meant to be.”
“Vincent.”
He opened the door.
“Get some sleep, Natalie.”
She grabbed the nearest pillow.
“Don't tell me what to do!”
She threw it.
Vincent caught it effortlessly.
Chloe stared.
Natalie stared.
Vincent looked down at the pillow in his hands.
Then back at Natalie.
For the first time, there was unmistakable amusement in his eyes.
“You've done that before.”
Natalie's arm dropped.
“What?”
“Thrown something at me.”
“When?”
Vincent's amusement vanished.
“Never mind.”
Natalie's eyes narrowed.
“No. Absolutely not.”
He placed the pillow on the chair.
“Rest.”
“Vincent!”
He walked out.
The door clicked shut.
Natalie stared after him.
Then slowly turned toward Chloe.
“Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“He knows things.”
Chloe's expression sobered.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“Did I love him?”
Chloe hesitated.
Natalie's heart sank.
“You know.”
“I know what you told me.”
“What did I tell you?”
Chloe pulled the visitor's chair closer.
“You told me you were marrying him because it was necessary.”
“Necessary for what?”
“I don't know.”
“Chloe.”
“I swear.”
Natalie studied her face.
Chloe wasn't a good liar.
She was an excellent friend, a terrible cook and an even worse keeper of secrets.
But she wasn't a good liar.
Natalie looked toward the closed door.
“Did I hate him?”
Chloe snorted.
Natalie stared.
“What?”
“I'm sorry.”
“You laughed.”
“Because that's not the right question.”
“Then what's the right question?”
Chloe leaned back.
“You need to find out why you married him.”
Natalie's eyes dropped to the wedding ring sitting on the tray.
A year of her life was missing.
A marriage she couldn't remember was sitting on her finger five minutes ago.
And her husband was clearly keeping secrets.
Natalie reached for her phone.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“Then why are you opening your notes?”
Natalie typed a new heading.
**VINCENT PRESCOTT.**
Under it, she wrote:
**1. Why did I marry him?**
She added another.
**2. What happened during the missing year?**
Then:
**3. Why does he refuse to tell me if I loved him?**
She stared at the list.
Chloe leaned closer.
“What's number four?”
Natalie looked toward the door.
Her voice dropped.
“Find out what he's hiding.”
Her phone buzzed.
Both women froze.
Natalie looked down.
Unknown number.
One message.
**You should have stayed gone.**
The humor disappeared from her face.
Chloe slowly leaned closer.
“Who sent that?”
Natalie didn't answer.
Her fingers went cold around the phone.
Another message appeared.
**Ask your husband what happened the night you disappeared.**
Natalie stared at the screen.
Then she looked toward the hospital door Vincent had walked through.
For the first time, she wondered whether forgetting her marriage was the worst thing that had happened to her.
Maybe the worst thing was remembering it.
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