“If I can get up yet? Nope! I keep looking at your boobs in that bathing suit, and well, unless I want to scare some children, we should probably wait.” He pulled my hands away. “And you should probably stop doing that, or we’re never going to get out of here.”
I flung a towel at him. “Gross! Seriously, I want to ask you something.”
“You have my undivided attention.” James smirked.
“Do you believe in monogamy? Like long-term, forever, never-seeing-another-vagina monogamy?”
“Isn’t it a little late to be bringing this up?” James laughed and pointed to my ring. I noticed his bare finger, remembering his declaration that he didn’t see himself wearing a wedding band. He’d said he’d just lose it, claiming his mom had once bought him an expensive watch and he’d misplaced it the next day. At first I’d been upset, arguing that it would look like he didn’t want to appear married. But he swore that wasn’t it at all. That he loved me, and why did it matter if other people thought he was someone’s husband? All that mattered was that we knew it.
I hadn’t been able to argue with that.
“I’m being serious. Do you really think it’s possible to keep the spark alive with the same person you’ve been having sex with for fifty years? Beth is already preparing to fantasize about whatever hot actor People chooses as the sexiest man alive. And she and Mark have only been married four years!”
“Do people even have sex when they’re seventy? That’s how old my grandmother is!”
“Will you stop? I’m trying to talk to you here. Forget fifty years. What about five?”
“Five? God I hope we’re still into each other like this when we’re only five years in. But, Jacks, marriage is about a lot more than sex.” James said the last part with an air of authority that slightly bothered me. Like he was an expert on the subject.
“I know that.” I sat up and crossed my legs. “I’m not just talking about the physical part. I mean all of it—the same person day in and day out. You don’t think that’s going to be hard?”
“Of course it will. We’re both going to find ourselves attracted to other people along the way. That’s normal. What’s not normal is acting on it.”
“True,” I said, and thought about the story Beth had told me last week about her neighbors. The wife had just found out her husband had been cheating on her for a year and a half. She’d sobbed to Beth that she’d had no clue. I had shaken my head, not understanding how betrayal could be undetected in a marriage for so long.
“Have you ever cheated on anyone?” The question flew out of my mouth. I’d never asked him before. But that story about Beth’s neighbors had gotten under my skin. Made me think that maybe I should have.
“No! But is this some secret plan to make my erection go away?” He looked down. “Because it worked.”
I laughed. “No. I heard this horrible story about Beth’s neighbor the other day, and it made me think,” I said, and gave James the details. That a text had come in on her husband’s phone, and she’d grabbed it thinking it was their son in college who always checked in on Sunday mornings. But it wasn’t him. It was a picture of a naked woman lying in bed. And when she asked her husband who it was, he told her everything. And the hardest part, she told Beth, was how relieved he seemed that she finally knew the truth. That he didn’t have to hide any longer.
James kissed me lightly when I finished. “That won’t be you and me. I promise. We just need to make sure to be completely open with each other. And we need to be the kind of people who don’t look at each other’s phones.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I balked.
“I’m kidding, Jacks!” He reached over and handed his phone to me. “Here you go. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’ve ever cheated?”
James stroked my hair. “I don’t have to. You’re the most honest and loyal person I’ve ever met. It’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you,” he whispered.
Now was the time to tell him. Especially after what Isabella had implied at the reception. The house. The honeymoon. It was only a matter of time before she’d start putting more pressure on him. That’d she want to be paid back in the form of a grandchild.
But I couldn’t find the words. I wanted to savor every minute of our honeymoon, not taint it with bad news. That could wait until we got back. “You’re right,” I whispered as I stood up and guided him away from the cabana and toward the hotel room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JACKS—AFTER
My mom likes to check boxes. Dry cleaning, check. Pick up prescriptions, check. Jacks is okay, check.
She’s called me twice today—trying her best to tick that box next to my name. I’m not sure if it’s because Beth told her where I am (even though I asked her not to) or if her mother’s intuition is kicking in and she knows I’m somewhere she wouldn’t approve of. Doing something she might classify as crazy. But either way, it’s just another thing I’m going to have to deal with if I answer her call. Manage her needs. She needs me to tell her I’m fine. That I’m getting through it. She wants me to say something I may never say again: that I’m “back to normal.”
Because the thing is, my mom doesn’t do well when things don’t go as expected. She’s always needed Beth and me to dot our i’s and cross our t’s, to pay our bills, to be good daughters and wives. If she knew I have a therapist, she’d flip her lid. Why on God’s green earth would you do that? Just like how she reacted when I told her I was engaged to James after just three months.
“Hmm.” My mom pinched the fabric of her canary-yellow cardigan sweater just below her neck. Someone looking on would think she had a chill, but I knew better. She was pissed.
“Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.” I poured a glass of iced tea and sat on one of the barstools by the kitchen counter, waiting.
“What did you think I was going to say?” Her voice was light, but her eyes told the real story: I’d rocked the boat. And that she didn’t like. “I’ve never even met this man.” She started to pace the room.
“I know. And you will. Tonight.” My voice came out sounding needy, desperate. James and I had planned for him to come over, to bring her roses and my dad a bottle of his favorite whiskey. I knew once they met him, he’d charm the shit out of them. Because that’s what he did.
My mom started to lap the kitchen island. I knew what she was thinking. How could I go off script? This wasn’t how we did things in the Conner family.
“I need to process this.” She stopped and pressed her palms into the counter.
“I know it’s fast. We’ve only been dating a few months, but he’s—” I had planned to list my favorite things about him. He was smart, he was a gentleman, he was close with his own mom. But she cut me off.
“Are you pregnant?”
“What? No!” Our eyes locked. “Don’t you think I would have led with that?” I finally said, then started to pick at a hangnail on my thumb. My mom began walking again. I could be five, fifteen, or my current age, twenty-five. It didn’t matter. This was how conflict between us looked. I presented my case weakly. My mom wouldn’t listen, her disappointment dripping from her, so palpable I could almost reach out and touch it. I’d usually start to backpedal, my mom’s approval suddenly meaning more to me than what I’d wanted her to approve of. But something had shifted in me this time. I wanted James more than my mom’s blessing.
“How can you know someone well enough to agree to marry them after just three months?”
She was right, of course. It was probably intellectually impossible to know someone that well in ninety days. But I didn’t care. Because I knew how James made me feel. Like the most beautiful woman in the room. Like he loved me more than anything. He made me feel desired.