Marriage on Madison Avenue

he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this content.

And then he glanced over at Audrey and realized he could remember.

It was every time he was with her.

But on Saturday, he’d known real jealousy. There was nothing gentle or subtle about the ache that came from his bones, from his very soul. The need to stake his claim, to remind the other guy and Audrey that she was his. Except she wasn’t. Not in the way he’d wanted

Why, then, did it feel so important to prove to her that he could be a one-girl kind of guy, that he might have a solution that would make both of them happy, even if it was entirely crazy?

This woman was the best part of his life. The rock he could always count on.

Because I don’t tell you everything, Audrey!” he shouted. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. We can be friends without me having to fucking spill my guts every minute of the damned day.”

The hurt was stronger this time. Not the sting of a paper cut, but the throb of something much deeper.

Audrey closed her eyes, feeling slightly queasy as she realized that the kiss had been for show after all. He’d known Elizabeth was watching. He’d been kissing her as part of their game, while she’d been kissing him…

just that,” his father said, impatient. “I want you to marry the girl who makes you laugh. Don’t let her get away…”

“What do you— Wait, Audrey? I already told you, we’re just friends. We were just messing around with the engagement

It was a first for him, and he understood now why it had a reputation for being so unpleasant.

Jealousy.

What if the marriage’s foundation was on something far more stable than any romantic love? What if it was founded on a lifelong friendship?

Clarke felt

but it bothered the hell out of him that the girl who still had dreams of a white wedding dress and doves assumed she wasn’t worthy of any of it.