Chapter four

Cassian’s POV

"Do you really have to do this?" Lucas asks for the umpteenth time. We are standing in the hallway of the courthouse. It has been one hour now, and my bride is nowhere to be found.

“You can’t talk me out of it,” I tell my best friend, my eyes meeting the clock hanging over the door. “I have waited years for this. Do you know what it means to watch the people responsible for the death of someone you love walk about freely, while you are made to live with the hurt?”

“I am sure she knows nothing about it,” he reminds me, always the voice of reason. “Only if you are doing this for a different reason.”

"What are you suggesting, Lucas?"

“That she charmed your pants off at the dinner yesterday?”

"I hate her," I spit with as much venom as I have in me. "Her family ruined my father. He didn't do anything to them, yet they ruined his company, lied against him, and drove him to kill himself. Want to know what that feels like? Want to know what I had to go through to be where I am today?"

I turn around to face him, the eerily calm rage twisting through me getting dampened when I take in his wife, Maria, sitting next to him.

“Lucas, you really don’t have to be here.” My words are harsh, cutting through him. I want to take it back the minute I have them out, but it is too late for that.

And there is also the fact that I regret nothing. This inclusive.

He looks like he is about to say something, but Maria places a hand on top of his shoulders, shaking her head slowly. He takes a deep breath and scoots further into the bench, avoiding my gaze.

I am about to suggest checking the hospital, even though none of them know what happened last night, but she barges in at that moment, a creased white dress on her body and a pair of white platforms on her feet.

“Sorry,” she pants, floating through the space. This isn’t the exact image of a bride walking down to sign marriage papers, but weirdly, she carried the odd look elegantly. Perhaps, it is those green eyes and the way they seem to gaze through me, like she can read into my soul.

I purse my lips as she stops in front of me, her cheeks flustered and fatigue etched into the corners of her eyes.

“Have you been waiting for long?”

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago,” I mutter. “Do you want to get married, Miss Enid, or is this a total waste of my time?”

“About that….” She begins. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“Last night, did you….were you….”

“Enid, the registrar does not have all day. I have managed to stall her for another hour. Get it out. Now.”

She looks at Maria and Lucas, then moves closer to me. I am hit immediately with her bright floral scents. Rose and Jasmine. At first, I hold my breath, pushing it out of my thoughts as her hair comes within touching distance.

“Were you at my place last night?”

I nod without thinking. “I dropped you off, remember?”

“No,” she shakes her head. I can see the wheels in there turning. “After that. I thought I saw you come…”

Maybe it is the way I gaze at her, or the door that pushes open in the distance. But she pulls away from me. “Never mind.”

“Ready?” the clerk calls from the doorway.

I look at Enid. “You can change your mind if you want.”

"No," she mutters in a grim tone. "If this is the only way I get to show Adrien what he missed out on and get my parents off my back, I am going to take it."

“Great.”

We stride into the room together, our hands lingering by our sides but never meeting. The little ceremony starts, and at intervals, my eyes filter towards her. She seems disoriented, like her mind is all over the place.

Sometimes, her eyes move towards the door, like she is expecting something. The clerk repeats his questions because she zones out sometimes, but I say nothing.

Like all those years ago.

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” the registrar announces after the signing process. “You can now kiss your bride.”

A sharp gasp escapes her lips as those words hit. And then, her green eyes find me. Her chest rises and falls in no particular rhythm as I pull close to her.

“It is going to be for a second,” I whisper, leaning into her ears before bringing my face back to hers. “And you won’t hate it.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but I don't give her time to recover from it before my lips land on hers. It is meant to be perfunctory, our lips meeting because we were ordered to. But something else happens.

I watch as her eyes flutter closed, as her scent wafts into my nostrils. It tugs at my senses, and I wrap a hand around her waist unconsciously, pulling her closer. I can't place it, but this feels so familiar. So warm.

My fingers in her hair. I know how they feel, even though I am not touching her. I know there is a light note of lavender in her cologne. Or her perfume. I have asked that question before. I remember the night.

I remember her laughter when her hair grazed my face, when I asked if there was something else she used other than rose and jasmine. I don't remember her face.

But I have to be wrong.

I have to be.

Because she returned four years ago, with the same color of eyes and a baby bearing my last name.

My daughter.

I pull away from her sharply, my heart beating hard. My eyes find Lucas sitting in the empty room. Maria looks up at me, too, concern grazing her soft features.

The words of the registrar blur into the background as my thoughts get working. Why did I think of a resolved one-night stand while kissing Enid?