I couldn’t keep eye contact with her while I told her this, and I didn’t know why. It was nothing bad, and nothing she would hate me for, but it just felt awkward to look at her while explaining why we got married. “We both said we’d likely never make it down the aisle. Then you brought up some book you read about two friends who agreed to marry each other by whatever age if they were both single, and before I knew it, we had made the same pact. But somehow, it went from ‘in ten years’ to ‘right now.’ It made sense at the time.”
“How the hell did that make sense? At any time?” Her high-pitched voice broke the romantic spell I’d been under while traveling down memory lane. It was as if thinking back on that night caused soft music to play in the background and a familiar warmth to settle over me. But as soon as she spoke up, reality came crashing back, and I realized that warmth was nothing but the summer heat and the soft music was really a group of people behind us murmuring to themselves while the birds chirped.
“Well, we got along, we were friends, and we trusted each other. Rather than wait a few years until you graduated from college, it made more sense to go ahead and do it so that when you got home, we wouldn’t have to make a big deal about it. We both discussed how big weddings were a waste of money, and even though we thought Matt and Christine’s was small and nicely done, it still seemed like too much of an effort neither of us were willing to make. Plus, taking care of it then would’ve eliminated the chances of your mom taking over. You even said if we waited, we’d end up eloping anyway because you wouldn’t be able to take her meddling.”
She tilted her head from side to side and lifted her shoulders a bit. “Yeah. That totally sounds like something I’d say. I guess I’m just confused as to why. Ya know? Like…why did you agree? Why did neither of us stop and think about the ramifications? Or at the very least have a conversation about our intentions and expectations.”
“I can’t answer most of that, but I can tell you why I agreed. I’ve always loved your family, Janelle. You know my mom wasn’t around much, always chasing the next guy, but your mom was. Your dad filled the empty father role in my life, and for once, I finally stopped feeling alone. You complain about being the youngest, imagine being the only child—except getting none of the perks. It’s not like I ever thought one way or another about marriage. It was more of a take-it-or-leave-it thing for me. But I found myself really enjoying your company over those months before Vegas. I liked spending time with you and taking care of you. I realized then that I actually liked having someone depend on me, and knowing that marrying you would solidify my place in the family made it all that much better. So it was a no-brainer for me.”
“So you married me because you wanted to be a part of my family.” It wasn’t a question, although she did sound highly confused when she said it…doubtful maybe. “How romantic. That’s exactly what every girl dreams of hearing.”
“Whatever. You only married me to win the power struggle with your mom.”
She waved me off and leaned against the back of the bench. “What else can you tell me about that night? How was the sex? Good? Great? Could’ve been better?”
My mouth opened and closed as I tried to come up with the right thing to say. Rather than anything intelligent coming out, it was a bunch of stammering and stuttering—basically, single-syllable garble.
“I totally rocked your world, didn’t I?” She wagged her eyebrows, and effectively left me speechless.
Once we finally finished our walk—which Janelle adamantly referred to as the hike through Death Valley—we headed home. It wasn’t that I had expected to eat dinner with her, but I would’ve liked it. Instead, as soon as we got back to the house, she left to go “shopping.” Yet, when I climbed into bed at ten, she still wasn’t home, and I couldn’t help but assume the worst.
And by worst, I meant her being out with that fucker or another guy.
9
Janelle
“How much longer?” Holden called out from the living room.
I sat on the edge of my bed and slipped on the new pair of heels I’d purchased last night while I was out. I couldn’t stop thinking about how good Veronica looked in them, and I wanted to see if I did, too. I knew I’d more than likely get teased for wearing them to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner, but I didn’t care.
I tucked my cell against my chest and yelled back, “Two minutes.”
“I don’t understand how going anywhere with him will make him divorce you faster,” Connor droned on in my ear from the other end of the line. “I was for sure he would’ve kicked you out on your ass by now, so why hasn’t he? Are you doing everything we talked about?”
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me. “Yes,” I huffed into the receiver. “He’s not going to cave easily—if at all. So you need to be prepared in the event he makes me wait out the entire six months. But we’re getting ready to leave for dinner, so I have to go.”
“Stop going out with him, and maybe he’ll give up sooner.”
“Oh my God. For the last time, it’s my parents’ house. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Sure you do. He wants you there to reunite with them, so if you don’t go, you’ll piss him off, and eventually, he’ll kick you out.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Connor. Just let me handle it, okay? It’s been less than two weeks. Chill. I know what I’m doing. Not to mention, even if he doesn’t give in earlier, it’s not like we’ll lose the money. We still have time.” I stood and took a moment to steady myself in the heels. “Listen, as entertaining as this call was, I’m gonna have to let you go.”
A minute later, I hobbled into the living room, where Holden waited for me by the front door. He drew his attention from whatever he had on his phone to my feet, and then slowly dragged his gaze up my legs. However, rather than say anything about my appearance—or the new shoes I struggled to walk in—he asked, “Ready?”
I wanted to stomp my foot and throw a tantrum, spin around in a circle, and scream, “do you not see how hot I look?” But I refrained. Instead, I nodded and followed him outside to his car. Which, to my dismay, wouldn’t start due to what he assumed was a dead battery, so we ended up taking mine. And for reasons I wasn’t willing to divulge, I hated taking my car.
Luckily, between the effort it took to steadily walk in heels, coupled with obsessing over Holden being in my car, I didn’t have time to worry about how I’d be treated at dinner. And what helped even more was walking inside first—meaning, I didn’t have to wait until everyone greeted Holden before they said hi to me. It also meant I didn’t have to witness the sudden shift in reaction, either.