I Do(n't)

It was not what I had wanted, but everything I had expected. “I told you I can’t afford this place. And now that I’m not sure if I’ll get that money, I really can’t afford it. Why would you do this?” She waved the signed lease papers in the air.

“And like I told you, don’t worry about it. You told your family you were staying with me while you got on your feet. You’ve been here two months, and now you could end up being here for another eight or nine—or more.” I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to work if you don’t want to, but it’s obvious how excited you are about doing something you love. I just wanted to give you every opportunity.”

“I know, and I love that you did this for me, Holden. I really do. But that doesn’t mean I can snap my fingers and suddenly pay for it. When we talked about this before, back when we looked at storefronts, you were aware I planned to use what I got from the show to cover it.”

I got up and moved to the chair next to her. Then I pulled her into my lap where I secured her in place with my arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “I wish you’d stop looking at things in terms of dollar signs. Marriage shouldn’t be about money. And you opening your own business should only be about you accomplishing what you’ve set out to do. So let me worry about the lease and rent for now. We are married, Janelle. Let me take care of this for you like any husband would.”

She stiffened in my lap and her rigid posture concerned me.

“Baby, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

After a harsh swallow and long exhale, she finally shifted to look me in the eyes. “I get that we are technically married, and we are intimate, and behind closed doors, we behave like any regular couple. But I can’t stop worrying about what will happen if this doesn’t work out. Because now, it’s more than just signing the papers and me packing my bags. Now it’s a binding two-year lease on a place to house my business. That goes beyond just breaking up and into the territory of an actual divorce.”

I traced invisible lines on her back to provide comfort, knowing she needed it. “Don’t worry about all that right now. I would never screw you over. Even in the event you decide tomorrow that I’m not what you want and you’d rather be with One-Pump, there’s not a chance in hell I would do anything to hurt you.”

She wrapped her arms around my shoulder and hovered her lips over mine. “I’m not worried about me being screwed over. I’m more concerned with you getting the raw end of the deal.”

Growing up, I had always been told by my mom and teachers that I was such a smart, bright kid, but I never applied myself enough. At the time, I didn’t think about the true meaning behind those comments. And even though they were right about some of my abilities, they were completely wrong about my thought process. It wasn’t until some much-needed self-discovery that I realized I overanalyzed everything. I picked everything apart until I was left with the tiniest pieces. Rather than break away the outer shell to discover the answer, my method was to dismantle the entire thing. It didn’t matter what it was, a math equation, work issue, or life problem, I picked it apart to the point where even the truth was destroyed.

Which is exactly how I’d dealt with Janelle.

When she had come to me—actually, she’d gone to Matt, but he wasn’t home so she’d settled for me—I’d thought that meant something. So, four months later when she came up with the amazing idea to get hitched by Elvis in Vegas since we were already there, I saw it as a romantic moment. One we would retell while living the rest of our lives together, completely in love. Looking back on it, I had given our love for one another too much credibility. That night, I analyzed the pieces I wanted to see, while ignoring the blatant red flags that waved frantically in front of my face. The events that led up to our marriage and those that quickly followed should’ve told me everything I needed to know. And when she’d come back to me, showing up on my doorstep and asking for a divorce, I should’ve seen those fucking red flags billowing in the wind. But once again, I saw only what I wanted to see. Had I stopped at any point during our time together to evaluate the starting image, the one from before Vegas, I might’ve seen it all.

But I never did.

Instead, I took a blind leap of faith and dove in headfirst, without a doubt in sight.

I didn’t actually take a step back until the following week at the office.

Matt barged in without knocking and took a seat across from me. He relaxed into it with his elbows on the armrests and his ankle propped on his knee. There was something in the easy way he sat there that told me this was the news I’d been waiting a lifetime to hear.

“Spill it.” I turned away from my computer and crossed my arms on my desk.

“Spill what? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just came in here to see my best friend, find out how he’s doing, maybe see if he wanted to go grab lunch with me while Ronnie takes messages for us. You know…nothing out of the ordinary.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at him. We rarely went out for lunch together because it seemed we had too much to do in the office. If anything, we’d order in and sit together in the conference room while going over a mountain of paperwork. Not only that, but I couldn’t contain my enjoyment at seeing his smile. It reminded me so much of Janelle’s when she seemed so full of excitement I thought she’d burst.

“I have no problem doing that. I’d be happy to grab a bite to eat, but maybe you should go ahead and tell me the good news now. I don’t think I can hide my surprise until noon.”

Matt feigned confusion with a tilted head, gaping mouth, and dramatically knitted brow.

“We’ve been friends since before we hit puberty, Matt. And if that doesn’t mean anything, maybe I should remind you that we lived together for four years, then opened this place together, and I was best man at your wedding. If you seriously think I’ve been blind to your repetitive tardies, long lunches, stressed attitude, and the repressed hope you’ve had bottled up over the last few months, then you’re a moron.”

His fake confusion turned to genuine shock. “You knew?”

“Well, not at first. I had an idea, but there was one other time late last year I thought so, as well, and that didn’t pan out. So I figured I’d keep waiting and see if anything changed. I mean, if all went well, you’d eventually say something to me. Right?”

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