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Graham clears his throat.

“Technically, it’s not in name only,” I continue at a rapid pace. The words fly out of me in between nervous breaths. “I’m still Trina Shaw.”

William crosses his arms. “Did he force you to marry him? Did he coerce you in some way by leveraging your job?”

“What the hell?” Graham mutters.

“No,” I answer quickly. “It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like?” William presses.

I’m so deep into this that I see no way out other than the truth. I draw my left hand back into view. “I married Graham because the man who owns Abdons is ill, and we want to make the little bit of time he has left as happy as we can.”

William reaches for my hand to study the rings. “It’s admirable, but you couldn’t pretend to be engaged? You had to take it to the next level?”

His concern is deeply rooted in our friendship. He’s always been like another brother to me. Ever since I met Scout, her two brothers have kept a watchful eye on me.

William is the oldest. He’s also the most intuitive.

“It’s temporary,” I stress. “I haven’t told anyone because it’s only going to last a few months. Once it’s over, and I’m divorced, I plan on telling my family and Scout.”

I add his sister’s name to that list even though I haven’t seen Scout in almost a year. She’s been living in London.

He glances at Graham. “Since Trina wouldn’t jump into something like this without her eyes wide open, I’m going to assume you’re a stand-up guy, Graham.”

“He is,” I hear myself saying before Graham can respond.

“This isn’t my story to tell, Trina, so you don’t have to worry that I’m about to race out of here and call Scout to fill her in.”

I smile, feeling like I should thank him for reading my mind.

“Besides, this may not end the way you two think it will.” William chuckles. “Life rarely goes according to plan.”

“This will end exactly the way we planned.” I look at Graham for reassurance. “We’ll be divorced soon, and this marriage will be nothing but a memory.”

William and I both wait for Graham to chime in, but he stands stoically, staring at my face.

“Like I said,” William begins before he kisses my forehead again. “Keep an open mind. Life may have another path for you two.”

He pats Graham on the shoulder as he brushes past him before he walks away, leaving me convinced that he’s wrong.

The path ahead of my husband and me is clear. There’s a divorce in our future, and absolutely nothing will change that.

“We didn’t finish our discussion.” Graham drops that on me as we ride the elevator back up to his penthouse.

I glance to where he’s standing next to me. “Because you went all caveman on my friend.”

Rubbing his jaw, he lets out a light chuckle. “Like hell I did.”

We didn’t discuss anything after William left the bar because Graham had to take a call. I knew instantly that it was a work issue because of the tone of his voice.

He slid back into CEO mode without batting an eyelash as I sipped on my martini. As soon as I downed the last drop, he paid the server for our drinks, and we left the bar.

“You put me in an awkward position,” I point out as we near our floor. “Please don’t announce that we’re married anymore.”

His gaze searches my face. “I had no idea that you two were friends, Trina. I thought he was hitting on you.”

“What if he was?” I ask simply. “What if a hot guy hits on me?”

“You think William is hot? Are you sure you’re just friends with him?” His tone suggests he’s joking, but his expression says otherwise.

I stomp my foot just as the elevator doors slide open. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s a new one.” He chuckles. “Insufferable.”

I bolt out of the elevator ahead of him, knowing that he likely has his gaze pinned to my ass.

“I’m going to bed,” I say without glancing back. “It’s been a long day.”

“I want to talk.” Graham’s voice comes out in a low growl. “We’re not done discussing what happened the other night, Trina.”

That spins me around to face him. “Yes, we are.”

“We’re not.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I tilt my head. “I’m done talking about it.”

“So listen to me talk,” he says quietly. “Give me ten minutes. You can spare that, can’t you, dear?”

I know he used the endearment to try to get me to smile, but I fight it off. “Ten minutes?”

“Ten minutes,” he repeats.

I glance at the watch on my wrist. “Your time starts now.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Graham

Normally, I perform well under pressure, but I’m struggling to gather my thoughts to present them to my wife.

I could take the to-the-point approach and tell her that I want to fuck her, but I suspect that will earn me a slap in the face and a premature divorce.


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