Delia and Theo exchange glances of shocked, unadulterated panic. It’s not like there was a minister that could marry them here—but for the head of the Avangard household, anything would be achievable. All he would have to do is throw money at whoever he wanted to do his bidding. Was that what was happening here? Did he pay off someone to act as a minister? Or was Milo going to marry them himself and forage the documents later? With the story Delia managed to curate with the public, marriage was the next logical step. But to do it here—in front of these people, never mind her family, it was a blow all too real. If they refused, there would be suspicion. If they accepted, it would dissolve any speculation that their love wasn’t real. She looks at Theo, her eyes pleading for him to say something.

“This is…sudden…but Delia and I have made up our minds. We want to elope.” Theo says, less than convincingly.

There's a glint of knowing in the older man's eyes. Did he expect Theo to refuse? Milo strides over to Theo, whispering, “My boy, you don’t want to disappoint your poor, aged, ready to journey to his deathbed grandfather, do you?” He lowers his eyes knowingly at Delia before he veers off to the side with his grandson. Delia watches their faces carefully, it’s a shame she can’t read lips. But Theo’s golden eyes remain unchanged as the two converse. The murmurs in the crowd determine the same question Delia has—what are they saying to each other? Between the excited and disappointed looks the man gave his grandson, it could be anything. She won’t let her imagination pull her into a dark spiral, no matter how tempting it was to let her thoughts run wild. With great speed, Theo paces towards Delia.

“We’re gonna get married here in three days—you okay with that?” He mutters.

“S-Sure?” She peeps. It’s not like she could say no to the man she supposedly loves and adores, especially in front of awaiting respectful eyes. It’s better than right this second, but the thought still makes her uneasy.

Theo offers a nod to his grandfather. It doesn’t take the older man long to regain his natural form. “My guests, the bride and groom have agreed to get married in front of us after all—the wedding shall commence in three nights. A reminder to wear something light as the wishes from the couple—it’s going to be a casual yet momentous occasion!”

The crowd around them claps, excited for the impending nuptials.

It doesn’t take long for the crowd to disperse for the night. Milo and Thea were absent, bidding the guests farewell. Delius stares at her from a distance, his deep violet stare is clear to her; he doesn’t trust Theo. Her grandmother and Thorne are locked in conversation.

“Say goodnight to your family; we have to talk about this,” Theo says, his voice serious and foreboding. From the corner of her eye, she sees long, skinny legs approaching her.

God no…

“Hey,” Delius’s voice is low, almost gravelly—different than the calm, elegant tone she’s used to hearing from his lips. “A word?”

Theo blinks, glancing over to Delia for help.

“Now isn’t the time, Deel—Theo and I are tired from today’s events.”

“Then I’ll say it quickly—Don’t you dare think you can force my sister into doing whatever you please just because you’re giving us money.”

Theo’s brows pinch together as he squints in confusion.

“Deel!” She hisses lowly, “I told you everything’s fine. I’m marrying Theo because I want to.”

“You’re not—and he isn’t making it easy for you. I notice how disinterested he looks when he’s with you—there’s no way I’m buying this.”

“I want to be with her,” Theo says, but his voice is still less than convincing.

“See? We’re very much in love—now if you’ll excuse us—”

“I wasn’t done talking.” Delius grabs Theo’s sleeve—god—does he have a death wish? Yes, he matched Theo in height but his lanky frame wouldn’t hold up against Theo’s fists. “Don’t think you can fuck around with our family.”

“Deel, that’s enough!” Delia interjects, smacking his hand away. “What’s more insulting is that you’re not listening to what I’m saying. Theo isn’t the problem here!”

“Than what is?” Delius removes his hand from Theo’s sleeve to cross his arms.

“Uh—”

Well, shit!

“Well, if Theo isn’t the issue—what is, sister?” His curious violet eyes await an answer. 

“It’s you—nosing in where you shouldn’t. I’m sick and tired of you butting into my life when you should keep to yourself. You’re Grandmother’s golden child, getting everything that you could ever want, leaving me with all your dirty work. Hell, you even got out of a marriage you didn’t want—and guess what—now it’s on me to fix our family’s finances because you found true love or whatever. So yeah, I appreciate that Theo has a sense of responsibility—it’s something that you clearly lack. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

 “I…wasn’t aware you felt that way.” Delius coughs in shock, his eyes wide as saucers. Delia doesn’t notice that her grandmother and Thorne were gawking from the other side of the room.

“You wouldn’t because you never paid attention to how I feel. I don’t even know why you’re worried about me—you never gave three shits before. You know what, I’m tired. Come on Theo,” She grabs his hand, pulling him from the entertainment room. She’s too riled to notice the bodyguard who assaulted her, staring from afar as he doesn’t leave his post. When Delia storms down the wrong hall, Theo gently leads her to his room. She had only noticed that his bedroom was on the first floor.

“Wow, I almost believed that was real.” Theo says as he shuts the door behind him.

“I had to alleviate suspicion somehow.” Delia sighs, holding her arms close to her chest. "And it was real, kind of. I guess—I don't know." 

“Sounds like you kept that in for a while.”

“Yeah…” She’ll tell herself that it’s the stress that forced her to say those awful things.

“He has a right to be concerned.”

“Deel never cared before.” Delia pouts. “Doubt he does now—maybe there’s some secret perk I’m unaware of that he wants for himself.”

“You think I’m responsible, huh?”

“That kinda came out—I didn’t really think about what I was saying.” Delia stammers. “Don’t take it to heart.”

“I won’t.” There’s a ghost of a smile on Theo’s lips. It disappears when he reminds her, “As for Grandfather, he baited me on purpose. Said that he’d buy us any island we wanted around the cape, as long as we get married and live here for least a year.”

“We got the island?!” Delia gasps.

“Yes, but…that’s not all. He wants you to take the Avangard name—the marriage as he said, was proposed to bring our families, and our finances together. He wants proof that you’re not going to jump ship as soon as the Firthes get their shares—guess he didn’t buy our love-story.” Normally, this would make Delia furious—but she had to weigh her options. Become an Avangard and be free, or keep her last name and be under the thumb of those awful kidnappers for the rest of her life. “I know it’s not what you want, but…” Theo’s voice is surprisingly strained.

“I don’t think I want to be a Firthe anyway.” Delia sighs, staring at her feet.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine—you did what you have to do. After the wedding, we can choose an island and then they’ll be off of our backs. We’ll have no issues after that.”

“You’ll be married to me,” Theo says with his arms crossed. “Isn’t that still an issue to you?”

“Marrying you doesn’t seem as dismal as it once did—given the turn of events.” Delia looks up at the ceiling.

Theo wryly chuckles. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“It’s not like I’m the girl of your dreams either, so it’s not just me. At least I get the funds to open my Eatery.”

“Lemme guess, it has some kind of egg-pun.”

“Eggcellent Eats isn’t a joke—it serves all kinds of egg-cellent dishes.” God, did she just say her tag line out loud?

It goes ignored by Theo. “Given your pepper-phobic tendencies, I assume that I’d have to bring my own packets.”

Delia feels her brows lift in surprise. “You’d eat there?”

“Something gives me the impression that you’re passionate about eggs. Means the food’s gotta be tasty, yeah?”

“Of course the food’s good—why would I bother if it wasn’t?” She snaps, immediately regretting the words that spewed. “I didn’t mean to sound cranky, it’d be nice if you ate there.”

“It’d look poor on me if I didn’t eat at my wife’s establishment at least once, right? I'm an influencer, remember, my followers are gonna comment if I don't eat there at least once.”

“Yeah…”

The room’s thick with silence for over fifteen minutes. Delia can’t bear it any longer. “Alright, so if we’re going to do this thing, I want to start it off right.” Theo looks at her with curiosity, his back now leaning against the wall. “We can sleep in the same bed just fine, so there’s no rouse to suspicion, but we’ve never had a real kiss." 

“We’ll kiss at the ceremony.”

She ignores his rigid tone. “We need to try to be romantic with each other.”

“So…you want to kiss now?”

“Yes—no—soon. Soon! But not right this second.”

“I told you I’m not a romantic.”

Her expression grows sardonic. “No surprise there. The only thing we have remotely in common is the trauma from being threatened at gunpoint.” Tears well in her eyes as soon as her lips utter the word gun. Theo’s face softens as he approaches her.

“You don’t have to comfort me.” Delia brings her hand up to discourage him from coming over.

“I don’t, but…” He stops mid-sentence. It’s clear on his face that he doesn’t know what to say.

“It’s nice of you to care.”

Theo’s offended by her gesture. “I’m not unfeeling. This isn’t sitting well with me either you know. I hate feeling like I have no control.”  His fists are white-knuckled. “This isn’t how I’d imagine things would go.”

“How did you imagine things to be, then?” Delia says with curiosity as she wipes her eyes with her fingertips.

“I didn’t know anything about you other than you were Delius’s sister. I knew there may be a chance that we’d marry, so I decided to look you up. The picture I found of you was you in an apron and a do-rag, serving sandwiches at a roadside kiosk.”

Wait, that’s the picture he saw? But she looked frumpy as all hell!

“I thought you said you wouldn’t have married me unless you thought I was good looking. That picture—I was overworked but the papers wanted a gossip column considering that I’m a Firthe, working at a grease trap as they called it. I don’t even own a deep fryer!”

“I’m not interested in women who only doll themselves up and nothing else. I like that you have a goal that you’re working towards—makes you compelling.”

Delia’s cheeks burn at the comment. That’s surprisingly kind. “That’s…very sweet of you.” She doesn’t know what to say beyond that.

“It wasn’t meant to be sweet. I’m being honest.”

A glimmer of faith swirls in her chest. Maybe there’s hope for a fulfilling relationship after all. Delia reaches for Theo’s hand, her heart quickening its speed as she brings it to her lips. She kisses them, lowering his hand.

“W-what was that for?”

“I didn’t know how else to show my appreciation.” Delia smiles, biting her bottom lip from her bashfulness. Kissing him outright was too much. At least, right now.

“You don’t have to—I don’t expect you to do anything behind closed doors.”

“Are you uncomfortable with intimacy?”

“No. What I’m uncomfortable with is, is that you’d go so far as to fake affection for me. As I said plenty of times, I don’t expect you to touch me.” Now he’s making this unnecessarily awkward. 

“I didn’t realize a simple kiss made you so timid.” Delia raises a brow at him.

“Don’t tease me.” He warns, but Delia doesn’t feel threatened.

“Lighten up. If I can’t tease you, it’ll be a very dull marriage.” The boning from her dress starts to dig into her ribs. “That being said, can you unzip me? I can manage it myself, but it’ll be easier with your assistance.” She’s not trying to be sexy; she wants to be free from the shackles of her dress wear.

Theo rolls his eyes, but he raises his hand to her zipper. The sound tingles against her ears as he unzips her garment, his hand resting on her hip. “There.”

Should she let her dress glide down to her ankles? Or was that too risqué? Delia lets gravity decide her fate as the purple garment falls to her ankles, leaving her in her matching purple undergarments. She sees Theo’s panicked expression, his eyes dart to the floor immediately. It’s cute to see how embarrassed he is.

Delia tilts her head as she approaches him. “It’s okay to look at me.”

“I know.” He says, his gaze leagues away from her.

“I’m not trying to seduce you; I just needed some help.”

Theo relaxes slightly as he gives her short glances. “Kinda feels like it when you’re standing there half-naked.”

“I assure you, that wasn’t my intention.”

“Until you put something else on, I’m going to the bathroom.” Theo paces quickly to the door on the other side of the room—she thought it was a closet door but she was clearly mistaken. Delia shrugs. Well, guess it was the perfect time to change into her bedclothes. Delia digs into her suitcase, opting for a black tank top and polka-dotted pyjama shorts since Theo made a stink about her chemise being see-through. What was he, a man of the church? Most men wouldn’t complain about such things, especially wealthy, attractive men. What was Theo's deal?

He comes back out, wearing the same flannel pants he wore at the hotel. He gets to parade around with his toned abs, looking like a snack while he had to be weird and shame her for being in her underwear. It’s not like she was swinging her tits in front of him!

She huffs, it's time to remind him of that fact.