Chapter 8: A House That Doesn't Feel Like Home

"I made a mistake."

The words hit the ballroom like a second blast.

For a moment nobody moved. Then Nathan was already crossing the floor.

Ethan turned, Emma's hand still in his, and looked at Olivia the way he might look at a stranger who'd wandered in off the street.

"The ceremony already happened," he said, without raising his voice.

"I know that. I'm telling you I made a mistake."

"You made it an hour too late."

Nathan reached her first. "Miss Bennett. Perhaps somewhere more private."

Olivia looked once at Ethan. Then she followed Nathan out.

Ethan turned back to Emma as if nothing had happened.

"We have a car waiting."

Outside, the cameras were relentless.

Ethan didn't rush and didn't flinch. The crowd adjusted to him instead of the other way around.

By the time the car door shut behind them, the noise disappeared completely.

"I don't suppose that ever gets easier," Emma said.

"It doesn't."

He sounded, for once, almost tired.

The drive to Kingsley Manor took forty minutes neither of them spent talking. Emma watched the city give way to gated estates, still not used to the name she now wore.

Ethan read through a folder Nathan had given him.

Work. Already.

She wondered if billionaires ever really stopped, or just changed buildings.

Somewhere behind them, five hundred guests were finishing champagne they hadn't paid for at a wedding that hadn't happened the way anyone expected.

Emma didn't know whether to laugh or be sick. She settled for watching the trees go by instead.

The gates opened onto grounds that looked less like somewhere people lived and more like something preserved for tours.

A line of staff waited at the entrance. When Ethan stepped out, the greetings came easily. When Emma followed, there was a half-second where nobody moved.

Not disrespect.

Surprise.

A silver-haired butler recovered first.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Kingsley."

"Thank you," Emma said, and meant it more than she expected to.

Behind him, one of the housekeepers hesitated a beat too long before echoing the greeting. Not rude. Just caught off guard.

Emma understood completely. Yesterday they'd all been preparing to welcome Olivia Bennett. Today they were welcoming her instead.

Inside, sunlight spilled across marble floors and fresh flowers filled every corner.

As they crossed toward the staircase, two staff members quietly carried away a vase of lilies. Another replaced it with white roses.

No one explained why. No one even looked up.

Odd, Emma thought, and followed Nathan upstairs.

Her room overlooked the eastern gardens. Beautiful in the way an expensive hotel suite is beautiful, comfortable and immaculate and entirely temporary.

"Mr. Kingsley's room is across the hall," Nathan said.

"We're not sharing?"

"No. He thought separate rooms would make things easier."

She hadn't expected thoughtfulness from him.

Dinner was served at seven, at a table built for twenty.

"Do you ever actually fill this?" Emma asked.

"Board meetings."

She laughed despite herself.

"So I lost to your executives."

"They usually argue more."

"That's comforting."

The silence that followed felt lighter than the one in the car. Not easy. Just less heavy.

Halfway through the meal, Ethan set down his glass.

"We should establish a few things."

"Agreed."

"Separate bedrooms. Separate schedules. You'll continue working, if that's what you want."

"I assumed marrying you meant giving that up."

"I never asked you to."

No speeches. Just an answer, and she found herself believing it.

"My turn," Emma said. "No pretending we're happily married."

"Except in public."

"Exactly."

"And if either of us needs space—"

"You ask," Ethan started.

"No," Emma said. "You tell."

Under the table, her thumb found the new ring on her finger and turned it once. She hadn't noticed herself doing it.

He was quiet a moment.

Then he nodded.

"Fair."

It wasn't much.

For two people who had known each other less than a day, it felt like progress anyway.

Later that night, Emma went downstairs for water and stopped outside the kitchen at the sound of Ethan's voice.

"...replace the remaining arrangements before morning. And make sure there are no lilies."

"None at all, sir?"

"No."

Calm. Certain.

Emma slipped back before anyone saw her. A moment later Ethan passed without noticing, disappearing into his study.

So that was it. He wanted every trace of today gone.

She couldn't blame him. Maybe forgetting was easier for both of them.

She carried her glass back upstairs, never guessing how wrong she was, or how quickly the rules they'd just agreed to would start to change.