Chapter 9: It Can’t Be

Delphinia felt her world spin as the man’s words rang in her ears. "What the hell are you saying?" she repeated, her voice cracking. She took a step back, putting more distance between them. "Whose wife? I’m not your wife!" Evander’s lips curled into an amused smile, his blue-gray eyes sparkling with mirth. He looked like he was enjoying this far more than he should. "Yes, wife," he said smoothly, leaning slightly against the edge of the bed. His tone was casual, as if they were discussing the weather rather than the supposed fact of their marriage. "You didn’t forget already, did you?" Her jaw dropped, and she gaped at him like a fish out of water. She shook her head—not to deny his claim but because her brain refused to process his words. Pressing her palms to her temples, she let out a shaky breath. "No, no, no," she muttered under her breath. Her fingers dug into her scalp, as though she could physically force her thoughts into coherence. He continued to observe her, his amusement growing. "We got married last night," he added lightly, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Delphinia froze. Her wide eyes snapped to his, disbelief plastered across her face. "Married?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her knees threatened to give out, but she forced herself to stay upright by gripping the edge of the bedside table. The words "We got married" kept replaying in her head like a broken record. She clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to remember something—anything—that could explain this madness. But the haze of alcohol clouded everything, leaving her grasping at nothing. "No," she said, louder this time, shaking her head more vigorously. Her heart pounded as if it were trying to escape her chest. "I would remember something like that!" Evander raised a single eyebrow, his expression calm and composed. "Would you?" he asked, his tone carrying a subtle hint of teasing. She tightened her jaw and gave a nervous laugh, barely convincing. "Ha! If you’re trying to trick me, it’s not going to work." She jabbed a trembling finger in his direction. "If you think you can take advantage of me because I was drunk, you’ve picked the wrong woman. I have nothing to give you, so you’re wasting your time!" Her confident words didn’t seem to faze him at all. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Delphinia," he said softly, and the way her name rolled off his tongue sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "We are married. That ring on your finger?" He nodded toward her hand. "I gave it to you." She blinked, her eyes darting to the glittering diamond ring that still adorned her finger. It sparkled mockingly in the soft morning light. Her breath caught in her throat. "No freaking way," she whispered, her voice cracking. Fumbling with trembling fingers, she yanked the ring off and set it down on the bedside table as if it were cursed. "This is insane," she muttered, pacing a few steps before turning back to him. "I can’t be married to you. I just got divorced two days ago!" Evander remained seated at the edge of the bed, looking completely calm. His piercing gaze followed her every move, as though he were studying a particularly fascinating specimen. Delphinia crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You probably just put that ring on me to trap me in whatever ridiculous scenario you’ve cooked up," she accused. Her voice rose with each word, her frustration boiling over. "And besides, I don’t even know you! How could I marry someone when I don’t even know their name?" He let out a small sigh, tilting his head slightly. "Evander Walton," he said, his voice steady and firm. "That’s my name." For a moment, the name hung in the air between them. Delphinia blinked, processing it before narrowing her eyes further. "Well, Mr. Walton," she snapped, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I can’t be married to you. So, whatever this is, just stop joking around." Evander sighed again, this time annoyed. "I knew you were going to say that," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly. Delphinia frowned. "Huh?" she asked sharply, not liking the cryptic way he spoke. Without responding, Evander stood and walked across the room toward a small table near the couch. Every step he took was sure, and his strong frame and confident walk made him seem powerful. Delphinia’s gaze followed Evander as he moved, her mind racing. She clenched her hands, wishing someone—anyone—could swoop in and explain this insanity. Preferably someone not him, because trusting the smug stranger was out of the question. Valerie. Right, where the hell was Valerie? Her best friend had been with her last night—hadn’t she? Surely Valerie would know something. Surely, she could help clear up this chaos. Delphinia held on to that hope like it was her last chance, but with how drunk she was, there was a good chance Valerie had ended up the same way, making her chest tighten. She watched him warily, her body tense. He picked up a folder—or was it an envelope?—from the table and turned back to her. He made his way toward her, then stopped a few feet away and handed it to her. "Here," he said simply. "Open it." Delphinia hesitated, eyeing the folder as though it might explode. Her fingers twitched at her sides, but she didn’t move to take it. "It won’t bite," he added, a trace of humor in his voice. Her jaw tightened, and with a deep breath, she reached out and took the folder from him. Her hands trembled slightly as she opened it, her heart pounding in her ears. The first thing she saw was a legal document, and her eyes immediately went to the names printed at the top. Her stomach dropped. Delphinia Harrington. Evander Walton. Her breath hitched as her gaze skimmed the words. It was a marriage certificate. Her marriage certificate.