Page 111 of Insta Bride

“Yeah, I thought so. So, how’d I do.”

“Being a boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just say, I had to upgrade you to husband status before someone else discovered how good you were.”

“Babe?” he asked in that teasing voice that I took as a warning that we’d both be going to work on little sleep tomorrow.

“Yes, hubs?”

“You were such a bad girlfriend, threatening to leave me for Seb—”

“Hey,” I swiped his chest. “I thought you’d gotten over that.”

“I’m never gonna get over you wanting to trade me in like a used car.”

“Go on.”

“You were such a bad girlfriend, that I felt compelled to upgrade you to wife status so you couldn’t inflict your girlfriendness onto any other man.”

“Hmm, so you married me to save the rest of mankind?”

“No,” he rolled me on top. His heart raced against mine. “I married you because if I even imagined you kissing another man, I’d be going to jail for his murder.”

We didn’t sleep.

We didn’t spend all night making love.

Kye asked me all the questions he’d never either wanted to ask about Maddox, or had never wanted to hear the answers.

Sometimes, after I’d answered, he went quiet and I lay still, in the dark. Waiting for him to digest how Maddox and I had met, where we’d gone on holidays. About how we’d planned a future with children and had almost bought a dog together.

“What were the things he did that you loved?”

“I don’t know, I guess we fit together.”

“Then what are the top ten reasons you loved him?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to do them better.”

“Competitive much?” I joked, loving that he’d want to even try.

“No, but that’s what a version 2.0 does.”

Perhaps, we had a chance.

Kye

“Thanks for meeting me.” Maddox was already seated in the inner city coffee shop by the time I arrived. His suit matched mine for colour, style and expensive tailoring. Light grey over dark grey. The only material difference was my red tie to his royal blue. Shit. I really was his 2.0 version.

“Your text didn’t give me much choice.”

“Thought it would be good to catch up—man-to-man.”

“If this is about the Softli account, I’m all ears. If it’s about my wife, then—” I dropped into a seat and flicked imaginary dust from the table top. “She’s happy, we’re happy, and the subject is off limits.”