All Chapters of Married To My Gay Bestfriend : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Eve’s POV The morning of our meeting with Marguerite dawned bright and aggressively cheerful. I woke up before my alarm, which was unusual, and felt almost well rested, which was miraculous. Devin was already in the kitchen when I got there, I had showered and dressed now I felt more like myself than I had in days. “Good morning Devin,” I said walking into the kitchen. “Good morning, you look better this morning.“ he replied looking at me before going back to his phone. “I feel better too” "We're going out for breakfast," he announced without looking up from his phone. He was leaning against the counter, already perfectly composed in a charcoal sweater that made his shoulders look unfairly broad. "Real breakfast not hangover soup." "I liked the hangover soup." "That was medicinal. This is celebratory. We're engaged now you know."

Eve’s POV Buying the dress was the easiest decision I had made all week. The boutique wrapped it in layers of tissue paper and placed it in a garment bag so pristine it could have been used to transport royal artifacts. Devin carried it for me without being asked because of course he did. We walked out of the boutique and into the afternoon sunlight and I felt, for the first time in days, like I had a handle on things. "The civil ceremony should be in the next few days," I said as we walked. "Marguerite was clear about that. We need the paperwork to process before the deadline." "I'll have Mark find us an available judge. There's always someone at the courthouse who can do a quick civil ceremony." "Is there anything Mark can't do?" "He can't make my grandfather less terrifying. Everything else is within his capabilities." We spent the rest of the walk back to my apartment planning the details. The civil ceremony would be quick with just us, a judge, and a couple of witn

Eve’s POV The knock came at ten in the morning, which should have been my first clue that something was wrong. Normal people called first or sent a message. They did not show up unannounced at my apartment three days after I had gotten legally married to someone else. I opened the door and found Ambrose standing in the hallway. He looked terrible. His hair was uncombed, his shirt was wrinkled. There were dark circles under his eyes that suggested he had not slept in days. He was holding a bouquet of red roses that were already wilting at the edges, and his expression was a nauseating mixture of hope and desperation. "Eve," he said. "Thank God. I was afraid you wouldn't open the door." I stared at him for a long moment. Then I tried to close the door. He stuck his foot in the gap. "Please. Just five minutes. That's all I'm asking." "Move your foot or I'm calling security." "Five minutes then I'll leave. I swear." I should have slammed the door anyway. I should have c

Devin’s POV I waited until Eve was asleep before I made the call. The apartment was dark and quiet. Her bedroom door was closed. The only light came from the city outside the windows and the glow of my phone screen. I stood in the living room and dialed Mark's number from memory. He answered on the first ring. "Sir. It's eleven o'clock at night." "I'm aware of the time." "Should I be worried?" "Delphine is planning something for the wedding. She's been meeting with Martin Lovelace. I need you to find out what they're doing and I need you to find out fast." Mark's tone shifted immediately from drowsy to professional. "What kind of something?" "I don't know the details yet. But whatever it is, it's designed to publicly humiliate Eve and cast doubt on the legitimacy of the marriage. They used the word annulment." I gripped the phone tighter. "I want a full workup on Delphine. Her phone records, her emails, her recent purchases, anyone she's been in contact with. I don't c

Eve’s POV When I arrived at the wedding venue, I spotted Marguerite in the front row, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Mark was beside her, looking surprisingly emotional for a man who knew the marriage was a contract. My father was near the back with my stepmother, who was wearing a hat so large it was practically a hostile architectural statement. And there, in the third row, was Delphine. She was wearing a red dress. Red. To a wedding. The audacity of it was almost impressive. Her lips were painted the same shade, curved into a smile that looked pleasant to anyone who didn't know her but radiated pure malice to anyone who did. Beside her, Ambrose sat slumped in his seat, looking like a man who had been dragged to his own execution. I met Delphine's eyes and held them. Then I turned to my father and gave him a look that said, very clearly, You were supposed to handle this. He looked away. Devin's hand found the small of my back. "Ignore them," he murmured. "They're not w