Married By Mistake

Chapter Twenty-Six: What We Decide Together

Elena's POV

He called back within a minute of my text.

"I'm okay," he said, before I could even ask. "Dogs are fine. I'm fine. Well. Fine is generous. But I'm not currently on fire, if that's the bar."

"That's a low bar."

"It's been a low bar kind of week."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding since Priya first said the words Metro Weekly out loud. "Can I come over? I don't want to do this on the phone."

"Yeah. Come over."

I brought food, because it felt like the kind of night that needed something other than wine, and found him sitting on his own couch with a business card turned over and over in his hand like a coin he couldn't decide whether to flip.

"She left this," he said, holding it up. "The reporter. Said if I ever want to tell the story myself instead of letting everyone else tell it, that's her number."

"Are you going to call her?"

"I don't know. Part of me wants to just keep saying no to everyone forever." He set the card down on the coffee table, careful, like it might go off. "But she said something. Same thing Aldous said, actually. That the footage everyone's seen cuts off before the end. Like there's a version of that night nobody actually knows."

I sat down next to him, closer than the careful distance we usually kept, and didn't push him to say more than that.

"You don't have to tell me tonight," I said. "Whatever happened after the footage cuts off. I'm not asking."

"I know you're not. That's kind of why I might actually tell you eventually." He looked at me for a long moment. "Not tonight. But eventually."

Something in my chest loosened at that, a small, unfamiliar warmth that had nothing to do with the wreckage happening around us.

We spent the next hour just talking. Not strategizing, not managing crises, just talking, about nothing important, his worst dog-walking disaster, my most unreasonable bride, the specific horror of watching Waffles nearly eat a pigeon. It was the first time in two weeks either of us had laughed without the laugh being a defense against something.

"I like this," I said eventually, quiet. "Just this. No reporters, no gossip accounts, no ultimatums."

"Yeah. Me too." He glanced over at me. "Feels like the first honest hour I've had in six years, if I'm being honest about it."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just let my hand find his on the couch between us, and he let it stay there, and for a little while the rest of the world felt far enough away to actually breathe.

My phone buzzed near midnight, breaking it.

I almost didn't check it. Almost let it sit there and ring itself out the way I hadn't let myself do in years. But habit won, the way it always does, and I glanced at the screen.

An email. From Julian's lawyer.

Subject: Regarding the Wilmont Exclusivity Agreement

I opened it with a growing sense of dread, Jax watching my face change as I read.

Dear Ms. Voss, this letter is to formally notify you that per the exclusivity agreement executed in April, your firm remains contractually bound to provide event services exclusively for Croft Properties through the end of the current fiscal year. Given recent developments in your personal relationship with Mr. Croft, we wish to clarify that this agreement remains legally binding regardless of any change in your engagement status, and that breach of these terms will result in significant financial penalties as outlined in Section 4.

I read it twice, my stomach dropping further with each pass.

"What is it," Jax asked.

"The contract. The one with my signature I don't remember signing." My voice had gone thin, disbelieving. "Julian's lawyer just confirmed it's still binding. Regardless of whether we're together. If I breach it, my firm owes significant penalties."

"Can he do that? Trap you in a business contract even if the relationship ends?"

"I don't know. I need to actually read the terms myself instead of trusting the summary he gave me a week ago." I set the phone down, hands unsteady. "This isn't just about us anymore. If this is real, ending things with Julian could cost my company more than Regina ever could."

Jax was quiet beside me, and I watched him do the same math I was doing, watched the warmth from an hour ago get replaced by something harder and more careful.

"Elena," he said slowly. "How much control does he actually have over your business right now?"

I didn't have an answer. And the not knowing, more than anything else in the email, was what scared me most.