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'S P
ur night of passion was still in him. "Fine," he spits. "I'll marry her." My father finally lowers the gun, stepping back as if Evans' agreement was inevitable. But I know this isn't over. Ford chuckles, stretching as he straightens up. "See? That wasn't so hard." His eyes gleam with amusement as he pats Evans' cheek, his touch deceptively light. "Now, play nice, yeah?" Evans jerks his head away, glaring up at him. "Go to hell." Ford just laughs. "Oh, I've got my own reserved seat." My hands feel like ice as I watch Evans struggle to stand, his body swaying under the weight of exhaustion and pain. He doesn't look at me. Not once. "Where do you think you are going, pretty boy?" Ford asks. "My phone fell off in your car. I have to call my parents and inform them of my very happy wedding decision." He said with sarcasm. Evans' phone is placed in front of him, the screen lighting up as someone hands it over. His hands are still shaking whether from pain or rage, I don't know but he grabs it, flexing his fingers before dialing. Ford leans casually against the desk, arms crossed, watching Evans like a predator enjoying the slow unraveling of its prey. "Speaker," Ford orders, his voice leaving no room for argument. Evans hesitates, his gaze flicking to me for the briefest second before pressing the button. The line rings twice before a warm, familiar voice fills the room. "Evans! Finally! You never call." A woman's voice comes up, light and teasing. There's no hesitation, no fear in her tone. She has no idea what's happening on this end of the line. Evans swallows, his jaw tight. "Mom." His voice is rough, strained, but he tries to keep it steady. "I-uh... have news." "Oh?" There's a beat of silence before she gasps. "Wait! Are you finally settling down?" His father's voice joins in, gruff but amused. "About time. You've had your fun, but a man needs a wife." Evans closes his eyes briefly, his fingers twitching against his thigh. I can tell he's barely holding back a sarcastic response, but