29 - an idea

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Two chapters today, in honour of the New Year. Cheers.


LOGICALLY, rationally, Adrien understood all the motives to get married were gone. With her name on her father's will as the only heir to his entire fortune, under threat of releasing that video to the public, her father had nothing to hold over her head. And nothing to hold over Muse's head.

    Adrien didn't need a family woman reputation anymore. She didn't have a bullshit, wholesome, Catholic family name to uphold. She'd gotten what she'd wanted.

    What she thought she'd wanted.

    Now, as she touched down on a private landing strip in Greece, she couldn't help thinking of Muse. Again.

    She'd picked up the phone several times. Intending to call the wedding off. Each time, she put the phone back down. Each time, she pictured Muse, the birdlike tilt to her head and the warmth of her smile.

     She couldn't hold Muse to a wedding, now that there was no reason for it. That would be selfish. That would be crazy. 

     But she couldn't make herself call it all off.

     Already, she'd transferred the million dollars into Muse's bank account. She didn't give a fuck about that. 

     And it wasn't so much the idea of trapping Muse in a marriage. That wasn't it either. 

     The plane rolled to a stop. Adrien shifted the gears and cut the engine. The lights flickered off and the power disappeared in a final exhale, along with the gas. Adrien laid her head against the control panel.

     She'd flown to Greece in record time, using a fighter jet she had reserved for emergencies. She'd probably broken several air laws. But the wedding was in a few hours. 

     Muse, there's no reason for us to get married.

     I gave you the money anyway, though.

     What do we do now? Well, I don't know. I mean, we don't have to see each other ever again. We can just go our separate ways, I guess.

     Except that I've fallen in love with you. 

     Adrien lifted her head and surveyed the hot, overwhelming, sun-soaked fields of Greece. She'd bought this land ages ago and converted it into a landing strip for her private plane. She'd never noticed how beautiful it was: lavender flowers, stretching as far as the horizon like a pale purple blanket.

     Lavender. It reminded her of Muse. The conversation they'd had on her balcony, what felt like ages ago. 

     If Adrien called off the wedding, she'd probably never see Muse again. They were no longer bound by contract. By anything at all. They'd been strangers before―they'd be strangers once more. It would be fine. It would be fine, if only Adrien hadn't fallen so damn hard. If only Adrien didn't love seeing Muse every day, seeing her face light up, seeing her drenched in warm golden afternoon sunlight while she napped on the couch. It would be just fine.

     Right about now, Muse would probably have just arrived at their shared suite. The wedding dress would be laid out on the bed. The white linen curtains would be rippling in the sea-kissed breeze. Adrien owned the entire hotel, and it was her favourite room, albeit one she'd never used: floor-to-ceiling windows that were usually left open during the daytime to let in the scent of sandy beach. Art that cost a fortune, all soft, soothing colour. A marble-and-gold bathroom with a sunken bathtub, big enough to fit two people comfortably.

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