The Wedding Agreement (The Green Family Series Book 1)

by Annie Dyer

  She shrugged. “It’s more important to me, because galleries are how I make my living, but I know what you mean. Comparatively. But you’ve totally fucked up by saying that to her.”

  “I know.” I wasn’t going to lie here. I knew I’ve royally messed up. ‘It was possibly one of the worst things I could say.”

  She nodded. “What you going to do about it?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Firstly, give her time. Don’t make any romantic gestures today or tomorrow, cause she’ll just think you’re messing with her head. Send her a text so you’re communicating, but just so that she knows you haven’t moved on. Then you need to decide what you want. Relationships aren’t easy, everyone knows that, but we all expect them to be. If you want this to be more than the agreement you decided on, then you need to tell her that. Do you love her?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

  “Are you in love with her? Two different things.”

  I nodded again. “Head over heels.”

  “Have you told her that?”

  I winced. “No. I thought she knew and I didn’t want to say it because I thought she’d think I was putting pressure on her to change the agreement, and then we had all this about her not being what I needed. Fuck, Cat, I just need her.”

  I handed her a plate with an omelette on it. She dived on it, tucking into it like she hadn’t been fed for at least a week. I did worry about Catrin’s ability to adult sometimes.

  “’Kay,” she spoke between mouthfuls. “You best start thinking. And don’t worry, she needs to think as well.”

  I nodded, finishing cooking my omelette. “What if she decides she doesn’t want to be with me?”

  Cat shrugged. “Then it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Imogen

  I knew my brother was home. There was a simple tell; his bedroom curtains were closed.

  As soon as Shay woke up, he opened the curtains. When he got in bed, he closed them. He never shut them while he was getting changed, truly believing that the world needed to see his naked body at least once a day, so there was no chance he’d forgotten to open them again.

  His bedroom curtains were closed, ergo, he was in, and asleep.

  It was four in the afternoon, and I figured he’d gotten home about ten from a night shift. I’d spent the day trying to immerse myself in work, to forget I’d ever heard of Noah Soames, but I’d ended up checking my phone every ten minutes, and then going down the rabbit hole of looking at photos of the two of us. I’d killed an hour looking through wedding photos, then switched onto pics we’d taken on our honeymoon.

  There was a video on my phone I hadn’t seen before. Noah had taken it, walking from the beach into our gorgeous room.

  I’d been lying on the bed, clearly indulging in an afternoon nap, which was part of the little routine I’d developed while we were there. Noah zoomed in on me sleeping, his soft chuckle caught by the mic.

  “This is about the only time you’re quiet. Although you talk in your sleep too – I won’t repeat what you’ve been saying in case someone else sees this, but it was interesting.” He zoomed out, panning around the room to where my make-up bag had exploded on the dressing table. “I guess this is what I’ll be living with. I think I can cope with that though if it means I’m living with you.”

  There was a pause while he panned around the room. “Bit different to our home in London. I hope you like that as much.” His voice was quiet, so as not to disturb me. “Beginning to think this agreement needs updated, Ims. I need to update my terms and conditions. One being to get rid of this twelve-month thing. I need longer. Maybe a lifetime.”

  I murmured something in my sleep that made him chuckle again.

  “See. There’s proof. Going to let you finish sleeping without me disturbing you.”

  But it was his last words that knocked me for six.

  “Love you, Imogen Soames.”

  I hadn’t shown the video to anyone, but I had watched it at least a hundred times, or at least as many so I’d lost count. I was raw, and hurt, and sad; all of those things and more, and so, so in love with him.

  As well as being completely pissed off at Shay.

  I didn’t bother banging on the door, or politely knocking, because I had a key. Or rather, Maven had a key in her room, which I’d taken.

  There was a trail of clothes leading from the hallway, up the stairs, but thankfully they were all my brother’s. I appreciated he had a stressful job, saving the lives of children, but that didn’t mean he was immune to fratricide.

  I banged up the stairs, half hoping I’d wake him, although Shay already slept like the dead thing he was about to become.

  He was asleep, looking gruff and what some women would call handsome. I stood over him, only slightly questioning my sanity, before picking up the pillow he wasn’t sleeping on and hitting him over the head.

  “What the fuck?” He sat up and looked straight at me, his arms stretched out to either attack or defend himself.

  I launched the pillow at him again.

  “Imogen! Fucking stop it.” He wrestled the pillow off me. “What the fuck’s the matter? Why does you face look like you’ve been crying?”

  To his credit, Shay was observant.

  “Because I have.”

  He reached down next to the bed and picked up a T-shirt from the floor, pulling it on. “Do I need to hire someone to end Noah?”

  “No. No. Absolutely not. But you - ” I pointed at him. “You’re dead to me.”

  He paled. “What’ve I done?”

  I sat down on the edge of the bed. I knew my brother very well. I knew he’d never do anything to deliberately hurt me. I’d always get his opinion – which I did when he found out about the agreement the night before we were married – Maven let that one slip – but he would always support me.

  “You told a woman called Shona that I was marrying Noah to help him out.”

  He thought for a moment. “Shit. Shona.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  He nodded. “It was a wedding, and I was drunk. You know I hate weddings.”

  “I know you hate weddings, but that was mine.”

  “It wasn’t real.”

  I let that one go. For now. “Why do you hate weddings?”

  He shrugged. “You see two people really happy and you know it’s going to end up causing tears. Like now. Point proven.” He sighed. “Sorry, Im. What’s happened?”

  I shook my head. “Shona got in my head. I figured Noah needed someone more like her, and less of a person also married to work like me, so I guess there was a bit of self-sabotage involved.” My eyes filled up with tears again.

  “Has he not come chasing after you? He’s a fool if he doesn’t.” Shay sat back. “I’m sorry I told Shona. I was drunk and pissed off. It was a flyaway remark – I think I said something like ‘it’s not fucking real anyway’ and that was it. Sorry, Ims. What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I was probably going to freak out anyway. You know, when most people get married, they’ve had months or years to get used to the idea of living with someone, of being that person’s person. We didn’t.”

  “Because it wasn’t meant to be like that. It was meant to be a favour. Now it’s more, isn’t it? You’ve hardly been subtle about it.” He got out of bed, thankfully wearing pyjama pants, ones with Star Wars on them – something to tease him about in front of his next one-night stand.

  We talked more. About Shona. About Noah. About my imposter syndrome where I couldn’t actually believe that someone thought I was wonderful enough to be married to, and not just for an agreement.

  I was still at Shay’s when my phone pinged with a text. From Noah.

  I hope you’re okay. Thinking about you x

  I showed it Shay, who nodded.

  “He’ll have spent about an hour working out what to put, you know that don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t think me
n thought that much about stuff like that.”

  He laughed. “We probably think as much about shit like that as you. Trust me.”

  His expression softened and I wanted to know more than ever exactly what had happened to make him so jaded about relationships.

  “Who was she, Shay?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No one you know.”

  “She hurt you.”

  He nodded this time. “More than I thought possible.”

  “So why didn’t you fight for her?”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I did. Or I tried. She just disappeared. I thought we were it. She was my forever. I was planning on bringing her home to meet you all, but the day after I suggested it, she’d gone.”

  My mind reeled. “Was she okay? Something could’ve happened to her.”

  “It hadn’t. I get a birthday card from her every year, and a Christmas card. Sometimes a postcard, but never one with a place on it. For fuck’s sake, Imogen, text the guy back. Don’t leave him hanging.”

  I didn’t ask him any more. I took out my phone and re read Noah’s message.

  I’m not okay, but I will be. Thinking about you a lot too. I watched the video you made when I was asleep in the Maldives. X

  I didn’t overthink it, just pressing send, although I wanted to send him another message straight after with just two words.

  I didn’t.

  I still needed to think.

  It felt strange walking back into the apartment I’d shared with my sisters up until just three months ago, like I was a visitor there. It didn’t feel like me anymore; the spill of clothes and make-up felt foreign, as did the lack of Noah’s musky smell, which I was missing.

  What I wasn’t missing was the reaffirmation that Catrin was batshit crazy.

  My sister had an artistic side, and the temperament to go with it, which might explain why she had a photograph of Zeke on the dartboard that must’ve been new, and was lobbing darts at it.

  Her aim was not so good.

  “Cat, what’s he done?”

  She shook her head.

  “Seriously, this is looking a little scary. The last time you got past this stage we had to buy the guy two weeks in Bangkok, all expenses paid.” Cat had painted a large mural to him, which she’d pinned over his window, on the outside. The mural wasn’t entirely complimentary – which it shouldn’t have been given she’d caught him cheating on her with his ex, only the ex hadn’t known she was an ex. The mural might not have been too much of a problem, but the advertised image on social media was.

  My sister was not one to mess with.

  Cat stopped, putting down the remaining darts and sitting on the sofa. “He’s an arrogant, impossible dickwad who thinks because he’s rich, he can say what he likes.”

  Oh, London, we have a problem.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. But I need to get a therapist on retainer.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

  “Because in three weeks I’m going to his ‘country estate’ to catalogue his art collection. Which, by the way, is extensive.” She looked to the ceiling as if she was praying. “Im, I am not a countryside person. I am not a patient person. This is going to test me.”

  “Why are you going?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Because he requested me and my boss is too soft to say no. And there’s no one else qualified. Or who he trusts. Apparently.”

  “Oh-kay.” I tucked my feet under me. “He isn’t a serial killer, as far as we know, so I think you’ll be okay. You’ll be able to come home for weekends.”

  She shook her head again. “The man is insufferable.”

  “I don’t know him that well, but Noah’s been friends with him a long time.”

  Catrin’s shoulders relaxed. “Noah. Have you heard from him?”

  I nodded. “He sent a text. Just telling me he was thinking about me.”

  “Good. What are you going to do? I know you, Imogen, you’ll have a whole strategy planned out within twenty-four hours, including a Plan B.” She sat down, looking away from the picture of Zeke on the dart board.

  I looked at my phone. I still didn’t want to show anyone the video; it felt like it was meant just for me, but it had helped me understand things a little more.

  “I want to be with him. I know it was meant to be an agreement – he needed a wedding, and I wanted to see what it was like being part of a couple, and for you lot to stop trying to fix me up – but it isn’t about that now. It’s about him. I can’t imagine him not being in my life, and not just as a friend either.”

  She nodded slowly, carefully. Too carefully for Catrin. “You do work well together. I don’t know anyone else who could’ve planned a perfect wedding in such a short space of time, without turning into bridezilla. You make a good team.”

  I felt my eyes fill up with tears again. “I didn’t think we did. Or I could be part of a team. He’s never been cross about me having to cancel stuff, or be home late…”

  “Im, can I just ask something, and don’t bite my head off.”

  I closed my eyes. “Go on.”

  “Why are you putting yourself under this pressure to be perfect? It’s about balance, and how you manage your workload. You don’t have to take on so much – you have junior partners and associates you can delegate to.” She looked like it had taxed her a lot to say that.

  “I know. I feel stupid.”

  “That’s the last thing you are.” She moved to sit next to me, pulling me into a hug. “This is your first big fight.”

  I nodded. “It might be the last.” I wouldn’t want to be married to me after the things I’d said yesterday.

  “Doubt it. If that was it, he wouldn’t have messaged you. Or he’d have messaged something about getting the rest of your stuff.”

  I rested my head on her shoulder. “I know. Common sense tells me that. And I saw a video he filmed on my phone.”

  “Oh yeah?” Her head rested against mine. “What was on it.”

  “Me sleeping. And him telling me he loved me.”

  “Really? Because none of us guessed that.”

  More tears fell, but these weren’t the same sobby ones as before, these were the tears you shed when you reached that plateau, when the skies had cleared and the journey in front of you was a little clearer.

  “I just wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t think it would be like this. I went into it figuring we’d get married, live alongside each other, and go our own ways. He’s not like the men I dated before.”

  Cat laughed. “Given that the men you dated were idiots, that’s not a bad thing. But you have been dating – you’ve just either been planning a wedding or being married while doing it. What’s the plan?”

  My phone vibrated before I could answer her. I looked at it, hoping it was Noah, needing it to be him.

  It was.

  I’ve made an appointment to see you tomorrow. I have a legal issue I need to you to look at x

  I read it three times, focusing on the kiss at the end before I replied.

  It will need to be Georgia. As we’re married it’s a conflict-of-interest x

  Catrin read over my shoulder, managing not to comment for once.

  I watched the dots, those tension inducing dots, jump around on the screen.

  This pertains to you, but we can have Georgia there as a witness. I’m not asking for a divorce, before you overthink it x

  I put my phone down and looked at Catrin. “Have I been stupid?”

  She shrugged. “You feel what you feel, and sometimes you’ve just got to go through it. Just promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When I’m arrested for displaying Frederick Ezekiel Brooksbank, will you remember that?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Noah

  Caroline answered the door. She and my Grandfa were in London, combining another trip to the specialist with a change of scenery. She�
�d said in a phone call that being in the city seemed to revive him, that having more people around seemed to help his memory and well-being.

  “Noah! We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.” She opened the door, my grandfather’s butler was nearby, frowning at Caroline doing his jobs.

  When she and Grandfa had met, she’d been a secretary, doing some part-time admin at the hall. She’d never fully gotten used to some of the old ways and expectations of a household such as what Grandfa had, so she ignored them, which was fine with me and my brothers.

  I smiled and headed inside, aiming for the kitchen where I knew there’d be coffee, and if I was in luck, cake.

  “Your Grandfa’s just finishing watching a film. I’d stop it, but he’s been a bit cranky today.” She went straight for the cake tin.

  I shook my head. “Actually, I was after some advice, and you’re better placed to give it rather than him.”

  She laughed, a tinkle of a sound. “What’s happened?”

  I accepted the piece of lemon drizzle cake and took a bite first. I hadn’t eaten all day and now I was starving. “We had a row. How long do I leave it before I make a big gesture?”

  “What did you do?”

  I shrugged. “I was a bit oblivious to Shona McAdam making a play, and she said a few things to Imogen that made her feel, well, like she couldn’t work and be married to me.”

  Caroline sat down across the table from me and looked amused. “Ah, the joys of society princesses. Learn some pretty things, have some pretty manners and find a man who can keep you in the lifestyle you think you deserve. Okay, tell me from the start.”

  I did. Right from the very beginning, only leaving out the details of how I found that Carla was cheating and keeping our wedding night vague. It felt cathartic, opening up to someone who wasn’t going to take the piss or judge. Caroline had kind of been in Imogen’s shoes. She knew what it was like to marry into a family like ours.

  “You know the worst thing for me about your grandfather’s condition?” she said when I got to the end.