Liam It’s 6:30 in the evening. I sit despondently in my car, a box of homemade ginger
saltines—courtesy of Frederich—on the passenger seat beside me. My phone has been
vibrating almost nonstop since mid-afternoon. All the texts are from Emmie, who wants to
know where I’ve disappeared to. –Emmie: I know you’re a newlywed, but this is getting
ridiculous, Boss! –Emmie: Mike went to the meetings you missed. Where are you? –Emmie:
Liam, are you okay? Please text me back. You’re starting to scare me. I drop my hand to my
thigh and lean back against the seat of my Spectre. If only Emmie knew what I overheard at
Olivia’s office... I left at 11:30 to stop by Olivia’s office and drop off the ginger saltines.
Apparently, they helped Frederich’s wife when she was pregnant and couldn’t ke ep real
food down. I carried them in, past the mostly empty offices— Now it’s 6:30 and the box is
still sitting on the passenger seat. I’m just a pawn. Something to be discarded once Olivia’s
done with her revenge. Is our baby a pawn too? Does anything between us mean anything
to my wife? Her Audi gleams in its spot in the carport. Through the open windows, the
piano melody from Gershwin’s “The Man I Love” flows out, like a big fucking joke. Olivia is
definitely not thinking of me while playing it. I stare at the main entrance to my mansion. It
doesn’t feel like home anymore. More like a house of mirrors, where everything you see is
just an illusion.
My phone buzzes again. –Olivia: Hey, are things busy at work? I stare at it for the longest
time. She hasn’t noticed that I arrived an hour ago, just like she didn’t notice I was standing
right outside her office door when she and Simon were talking. Maybe she doesn’t notice
because I really don’t matter. Whenever she’s near me, every nerve in my body comes to
full attention, prickling with anticipation. I know she’ll never love me the way I love her,
but... I unlock my phone and start to type a message: I’m really busy at work. Not sure
when I’ll be able to head home. My finger hovers over send, but then I see the box of
saltines. Frederich is right. She hasn’t been able to eat for days, and she and our baby need
all the support I can provide. I exhale long and hard, then pull the corners of my lips up
until I manage a decent smile, pick up the box and head inside. The lights are on in the
living room and kitchen. Olivia is at the piano, but she immediately puts her phone on the
soundboard and trots over. She smiles up at me, her eyes crinkling. Instead of making me
want to smile in return, it makes me want to crumble a little. “Hey, you’re home. I just
texted you.” Her tone is a tad too bright. “I know. I saw. Sorry.” I hand her the golden box
with a neat blue bow. “Here. Saltines for you.” She flushes, running her hand along the
ribbon. “Thank you. You think of everything.” I should say something. But nothing seems
appropriate. Do you love me, Olivia, even a little? Or is it all just revenge? Do I matter to
you at all? Or is our marriage already over as far as you’re concerned? I’m okay with being
her pawn, because a pawn that manages to hang on and reach the other end of the
chessboard can become an indispensable piece. But not if it’s sacrificed beforehand. When
the time comes for her to choose, she’ll choose to have her revenge and checkmate Hugh.
She’ll sacrifice me if necessary. The certainty chips at me like an ice pick. I knew she didn’t
love me when I
agreed to marry her, but I didn’t realize how difficult the situation would be to endure. I
overestimated myself when I vowed to bring love enough for both of us. I don’t just want to
bring love enough for both of us. I want her to love me, at least a little. I thought she was
starting to care, but what she told Simon shattered my belief. I’m no longer confident that I
can make myself indispensable in her world before our contract marriage ends. My heart
beats wrong, and I clench my teeth to contain the bile rising in my throat. “You look pale.”
Olivia peers at me. “Still problems at work?” “Something like that.” I fudge since I can’t tell
her the truth—that I saw the photos and overheard everything she said to Simon. The
fucker had to sense that I was outside and purposely steered the conversation in that
direction. But that’s the only way she’d be honest, isn’t it? She would’ve given some pat
answer if she’d known I was listening. “Want to talk about it?” she says. “Try a cracker
first.” Don’t let my effort go to waste. She shoots me an uncertain smile, then opens the
box. The perfectly baked crackers smell faintly of ginger. She picks one up and bites into it.
“It’s quite good,” she says. “Want some?” “No, thank you.” If I eat anything right now, I’m
going to end up running to the bathroom. “They’re for you.” She nods, then nibbles on it
slowly. Her eyes widen. “Wow. It’s actually good.” “Yeah?” At least she isn’t going to be
starving until the baby behaves. “You’re the best.” She hugs me. I should feel like I’m on top
of the world, but my blood only grows colder. Is this a calculated move? Because she needs
a husband who’s acc eptable to the world? Somebody whose very presence can twist a knife
into Hugh, Deena and Brielle? I recall my clumsy offer to marry her in the alley. If it had
been one of my brothers giving her the white bouquet, would she have said yes to him, too?
Still, I don’t want to worry her, so I pat her back. She tilts her head up with a bright smile.
“I have something for you.” She dashes over to the piano and snatches a white envelope
from the soundboard. What is it? An early termination notice? A “sorry but you
aren’t good enough” note? “Here.” She extends her hand. I stare at the card for a long
while, as though I could see through the paper to what’s written inside. Thanks for
everything, but it’s time I moved on and looked for another opportunity to stick it to Hugh.
Regardless, hope we can remain friends. “Come on. Open it,” she urges. I can take this. I’ve
heard worse. At least pawns are useful. A superfluous child isn’t even that. I take the
envelope from her. I don’t want to touch her, but my fingers brush against hers anyway
because this might be the last time we’re in the same space. A card...? Against the blue
background is a brown teddy bear with a yellow bow tie and a purple rattle.
CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’RE GOING TO BE A FATHER! My heart lurches. She already
told me she’s pregnant. What’s this about? I flip it open. Liam, Thank you for being in my
life and for this miracle growing in my belly. The doctor says we should be able to hear the
baby’s heartbeat for the first time this upcoming Tuesday at three. Can you join me?
Sharing the moment with you would make it unforgettable. Your wife, Olivia I read the note
twice before the meaning sinks in. My heart trembles, then pounds, pumping bittersweet
poison through my veins. I want to take this note at face value so much... but can I? My
fingers start to tighten around the card, but I forcibly relax to avoid crumpling the paper. If
she doesn’t mean it, she shouldn’t torment me like this. I have feelings, even if she doesn’t
reciprocate any of them. “Are you going to be busy on Tuesday at three? Want me to
reschedule?” Olivia asks tentatively when I don’t say anything.
“No. You don’t have to reschedule. I’ll—” I’ll be there gets stuck in my throat. Suddenly I
can’t drag in any air. I yank my tie off, striding toward the giant windows facing the ocean.
The thin strip of silk slips from my fingers. The salty air fills my lungs, but instead of
steadying me, it leaves me trembling. “Liam!” Olivia calls out in alarm. I plop down on the
couch, propping my elbows on my knees, and bury my face in my hands. Olivia stops in
front of me, the tips of her flats only an inch from my shiny loafers. Her fingers weave
through my hair. Every tender stroke cuts into my bleeding heart. “Liam, you’re scaring
me,” she whispers shakily. I lift my head. My eyes catch the sight of the Rubedo—the most
ostentatious and clearest mark that she’s mine. What I didn’t realize back then was that she
doesn’t have to wear it forever. She can always slide it off her finger and toss it back to me,
the way I flicked the ring to Tyler. Part of me screams I can ke ep her anyway. She can’t
leave here if I don’t want her to. The darkly possessive thought pounds at me, desperately
and shamefully. But I don’t just want her body. I want her love. Her smile, her humor, her
affectionate touches. If I can’t have them— —then I want nothing. The realization leaves me
breathless. I stare at her, my mouth slightly parted. All or nothing. That’s my line. “Why did
you pick me?” The question rolls from my tongue with desperation. She gives me a puzzled
look. “What? I don’t understand.” Bullshit. She knows exactly what I mean. My chest
tightens. “You could’ve chosen anybody in the city to father your baby. You just wanted a
husband and a baby to claim your mother’s estate, right? So why me?” Her jaw slackens.
Shock flits across her beautiful face as she blinks. “Actually, forget that. Of course you
didn’t have any feelings back then. But now... The dance, the tarte... You must’ve developed
some feelings, right?” Please tell me you have, even if they’re as mild as liking a little
dandelion growing from the sidewalk. I can work with that. “Liam, I...” Her throat works.
“What’s this about?” “Am I just a means to an end?” The need to know overwhelms the fear
that everything she told Simon might be true.
She licks her lips, then lets out a stiff laugh. “Don’t be so dramatic. Of course you’re
important. You’re the father of my baby.” Exc ept... any man in the city could’ve given her a
baby. It didn’t have to be me. She would smile like this to any man capable of spurting
sperm into her. The idea turns my stomach. Every drop of my blood turns to ice, and my
heart seems to freeze with defeat. “Any healthy man could’ve fathered your child, Olivia,” I
force the words out, my voice raw. She narrows her eyes. “Why are you like this? Did
something happen?” “Yes. I just realized I can’t do this.” I look straight ahead, at the
Rubedo and the pavé ring. Both look like an unfunny joke nobody asked for. Like me. “I
don’t want to be an extra in your life anymore.” She gasps. “Liam, you aren’t an extra.” She
extends a hand toward me. I evade it and stand. “Yes, I am. Nice to have, but doesn’t matter
if it’s missing. There’s somebody else ready to fill the shoes.” Like a pawn on the board
you’ve made up your mind about. You’re going to discard it for something better. Olivia
pales, then clenches her hands. “Why are you saying this? You know that’s not true!” “Do
I?” I say it softly and wait a beat. Then two. She doesn’t say anything. I should’ve expected
this. I walk around her, and then out the door before I suffocate. I can’t breathe while
watching her get agitated. I’m so fucking pathetic. She doesn’t want me but I can’t let go.
What the hell is wrong with me? But I meant every word. I climb behind the wheel and stare
at nothing for a moment while I push down the agony burning in my chest. Olivia rushes out
of the house. “Liam!” Tears soak her cheeks. A need to comfort her slices into me, but I
floor the accelerator and speed along the driveway. As much as it hurts, I can’t play an
extra in her life and pretend it’s okay anymore. Still leaving her rips a big chunk out of my
heart.