All Chapters of Married To My Ex-Brother-in-Law: Chapter 31 - Chapter 37

The internship officially ended on a Friday, and Tia used the excuse of it to finally say the thing she'd been turning over in her head for a week. She found Dylan in his study that evening, door open, though he hadn't been using the space much beyond hiding in it. He looked up when she knocked on the frame, something wary crossing his face — the particular caution of a man who knew he still owed her a conversation he hadn't figured out how to have. "My internship ended today," she said, staying in the doorway rather than coming in fully. "I know. Congratulations." He set down whatever he'd been pretending to read. "You did well. Better than well." "Thank you." She hesitated, then made herself say the rest before she lost her nerve. "I think it's time we talked about ending this. The marriage. Not because of one conversation — because the reason we started it isn't the same anymore. "Rebecca's speaking. She's

The invitation had arrived weeks before the divorce finalized, back when Tia had still technically been Mrs. Hart, and by the time the charity gala actually rolled around neither of them had quite worked out how to gracefully decline attending the same event. Tia came because her parents' company was a sponsor now, a small step toward rebuilding bridges that had cracked a year ago and never fully mended. Dylan came because Hart Enterprises' name was carved into the program in gold lettering, and some obligations didn't care whether a marriage behind them was still standing. They spotted each other within the first twenty minutes, across a room full of candlelight and quiet orchestral music, and neither of them moved toward the other for almost an hour after that. It was Dylan who finally crossed the room, two glasses of champagne in hand, setting one down in front of her without quite meeting her eyes. "You look well," he s

The first bouquet arrived at Tia's new office three days after the charity gala, sitting on her desk when she came in from a meeting, no card, no note, nothing to identify who'd sent it. She assumed it was Blake, at first, and felt a small twist of guilt she wasn't ready to examine. It wasn't Blake. The second bouquet arrived a week later, then a third the week after that, always the same — white peonies, her actual favorite, a detail she'd only ever mentioned once, in passing, months ago, at a kitchen counter over risotto. She never asked the front desk who delivered them. She suspected, deep down, that she already knew, and asking would only make the knowing feel more real than she was ready for. --- The following started sometime after that, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly when. A car, always half a block behind, always gone by the time she pulled into her own driveway, never close enou

Ten months later, the ballroom at the same hotel where a contract marriage had once been negotiated over careful, businesslike terms was full of flowers that had nothing to do with appearances at all. Tia stood at the top of the aisle, one hand resting on the small, steady weight of the baby carrier Dylan had insisted on bringing right up to the ceremony itself, refusing to let their daughter miss a single minute of it even from the sidelines. Rebecca walked ahead of her, seven now, scattering petals with the exaggerated seriousness of a girl who considered flower-girl duty a position of enormous importance. Dylan waited at the end of the aisle, and this time, when Tia reached him, he didn't look at her like a signature line he'd already decided to sign. He looked at her like a man who'd nearly lost everything and understood, completely, exactly what he'd been given back. "I love you," he said, when it was his turn, departing entirely from whatever the officiant had scripted