OUR BROKEN BEGINNINGS

CHAPTER THREE

"Don't."

At that moment, I realized how unsure of everything I was. I hadn't felt like that in a long time. I didn't like feeling like things weren't in my control, but it's what I signed up for the moment I agreed to marry him.

God, help me.

I turned my head to face him. I, again, met his hazel eyes. He no longer looked amused. He held the same passive expression from before.

"Don't what?"

I matched his expression, and I didn't let any of my uncertainty show on my face.

"Don't act like this is normal. Don't flirt with me like I'm someone you're trying to pick up at the bar. I am not a one-night stand, and this is not normal."

"No, this is not normal. I never claimed that it was. No, you're not a one-night stand; you're my wife, under strange circumstances, but you are."

"Okay, so what does that mean?"

"It means that I have to be nice to you because I'm stuck with you. I was trying to make our situation less uncomfortable and tense, but if you are saying don't, then you're saving me a lot of time."

My insides recoiled at his tone. He kept it quiet and unbothered, and yet he laced it with just the right amount of venom to sting. I asked for it, so I couldn't complain. Although, there was a part of me that worried that this was my life, that we would spend the rest of our lives resenting our situation and each other. I hoped we could come up with a solution because divorce wasn't one.

I didn't know how to reply, so I turned my head and looked at the food tables where the caterers were adding finishing touches. I saw the food and realized I was starving. I had only eaten that sandwich early this morning, and it must be 6 o'clock by now. I hadn't had anything to eat in 11 hours.

The DJ's table was right next to the food, and when I heard the microphone make a scratchy noise, I moved my eyes to focus on him.

"Alright, folks. The food is ready, and I invite our newlyweds to get the first plates. Then, whenever everyone else is ready, you can come up and get yourselves something to eat."

He nodded at Emerson and me, signaling us to come up and grab food.

I didn't bother looking at Emerson, and I sure as hell did not even look anywhere near my mother's seat because I knew it would just piss me off. I did look at Charlotte, and she gave me a nod and a small smile. I appreciated it more than she'd know. She gave me courage sometimes when I needed it.

I put on my game face and took Emerson's hand in mine. He looked up at me and kept staring into my green eyes the entire time he was standing up out of his chair. I smiled brightly at him because I was very aware of everyone watching us and added a comment that I knew would sell the show to all the eyes around us.

"Let's go sweetheart. I'm famished."

Something flickered in his eyes for barely a second, before they went cold again. He gave me an amused smirk, and a deep part of me was disappointed because I wanted to see his real smile so badly, that it was beginning to hurt.

Cassandra, what the fuck are you talking about?

I quickly shut that thought down and convinced myself that I was only disappointed because he didn't let me get a rise out of him. He continued to look at me, but I refused to move my eyes away from his. I was wonderful at the staring game.

"As am I." He licked his lips, and I hyper-focused on not letting my face expose how what he had just done affected me. I squeezed my thighs together to subdue the pressure and turned around, moving towards the food before he could say anything else. He had a fast rebound rate because he just told me flirting with me was a waste of his time. Although, so did I because I just told him not to, and there I was flirting. We were both hypocrites it seemed.