The Accidental Honeymoon (Wildflower Lane #1)

Chapter 36

thirty-six

JAY

A shaft of sunlight pierces through the gap in the curtains. I groan and stretch my long frame across the empty bed. I rub my eyes, yawn, and frown at the space beside me.

Calla is gone. She’s been shifty for the last week. If I were feeling fancy, I would say she’s been avoidant. That’s a thing, right? She’s probably already up and working at her bakery.

I roll out of bed, scratch my head, and shuffle downstairs in my plaid pajama pants. The sleek, modern lines of my kitchen blur as I rub my eyes again, still half-asleep. I open the fridge, stare blankly at its contents, then close it with a shrug.

It feels weird in here. Is it just the decided lack of Calla? Or is there bad energy? Hard to say. I put on the kettle to make a pour over coffee and then plod toward my office.

Something on my desk catches my eye. The fog in my brain lifts just enough for a spark of recognition.

The annulment paperwork. And Calla's ring, neatly placed on top .

A note in her tidy handwriting:

This was amazing. I’ll never forget it. – love, me .

My mouth goes dry. I pick up the note and read it twice, three times. The words don't change, but my understanding of them shifts with each pass.

I crush the note in my hand, then smooth it out again, my fingers trembling. My thoughts race, struggling to grasp why Calla would leave like this.

We had a plan, didn't we? Sure, I needed to have the final “I love you and can’t live without you” talk with her, but I was getting around to it!

Panic claws at the edges of my mind. Disbelief turns into a gnawing desperation to make sense of her decision. "Shit.” I look at the ring, at the papers, at the note, and a knot tightens in my stomach.

This isn't how it was supposed to go.

I dash back upstairs, grab my phone from the nightstand, and tap the screen with a desperate urgency. It rings once, twice, then goes straight to voicemail.

"Calla, it's me. Jay. What are you doing? Can we talk? Just... call me back, okay?"

I rifle through a pile of clothes, pulling on a shirt, then yanking it off, then putting it back on again. I hop on one foot, trying to coax a stubborn sock over my heel, and nearly topple over.

"Come on, come on," I mutter, pacing the room. I grab the phone again, check the screen, and bite my lip.

No time to wait. I need to see her. I have to explain. I want to fix this.

I bolt downstairs, taking the steps two at a time, and snatch the car keys from the counter. I remember just in time to turn off the whistling kettle. My eyes flick to the desk, to the ring, and the note, and the cold, clinical papers.

Damn. How did she even know that they were here? I should have shredded them when I decided to throw them out. I hesitate, just for a moment, then rush out the door.

I sprint the short distance to Ryan's place and slam my fist against the door. The sound echoes through the sleepy neighborhood but I’m too panicked to care.

"Ryan! Open up!"

I bounce on the balls of my feet. My impatience is a physical thing, pacing like a caged lion. I am about to knock again, harder this time, when the door creaks open. Ryan stands there, bleary-eyed, clutching a mug that proclaims him the "World's Okayest Friend."

It’s the thank you mug I got him for his last birthday. He takes a slow, disbelieving sip, clearly not comprehending me being here at this hour. "Jay? Dude, it's like, what, seven?"

I push past him. "She's going to leave, Ryan. No, she left . She left the annulment papers and the ring. I think she’s serious."

Ryan shuts the door and shuffles after me as I pace the living room. "Who’s leaving? What papers?"

"The annulment papers! Calla!” I throw my hands in the air. “She thinks she can just walk away and I won’t even notice?"

Ryan sinks into a couch, his eyes still half-closed. He takes another sip from his mug, then sets it down on a cluttered coffee table. "Wait. Back up. What’s going on?"

I stop pacing and look at my best friend. “Ah. Yeah.”

“Seriously.” He waves a hand. “You’re going to have to graduate from monosyllables.”

Briefly, I break down the pact between me and Calla. Three months, no real feelings, then I would announce that it was all a joke .

By the time I finish, his face is contorted with confusion. “Wait, wait. Why did you need to do this again?”

“Because my sponsors expected me and my new spouse to do the honeymoon road trip. But when I accidentally married Calla instead of Blake…”

He shakes his head and waves a hand. “What did Calla get out of it?”

“Just exposure.” I can feel my cheeks heating. “Her bakery needed it.”

“Uh huh. And while you were busy fooling all of us, you started to really like each other?”

“Yeah. But now she’s gone. There is still another week to go in the three months we’d agreed on. She didn’t wait around to talk it through with me.” I suck in a deep breath. “Maybe she thinks it’s not worth the trouble. Maybe she thinks I’m not worth the trouble."

Ryan rubs his face, the sleep slowly draining from his features. "Okay, so you’re in deeper than you let on. Are you saying you actually have feelings for her now?"

"I don’t know. Yes?”

“That’s certainly very clear. I can see why she skedaddled,” he snarks, arching a brow. “So, which is it? Do you love her or not?”

I rub the back of my neck. “Yes.”

The last remnants of sleepiness in Ryan's expression are replaced by genuine concern. He leans forward, elbows on knees. "Jay, man. You know I’m here for you. But you’ve got to be honest with yourself. Do you really want to be with her? Or are you just scared of the fallout?"

"All I know is that I can’t just let her walk away without trying to make it work. She’s my wife, Ryan."

Ryan stands, stretches, and picks up his "World's Okayest Friend" mug, then starts heading into his kitchen. " Look, from what I’ve seen, she’s a smart and practical woman. She’s not going to bail without a good reason. And the way you two have been... I mean, it looked pretty real to me."

I feel a tightness in my chest, a mix of hope and dread. "You think she’ll change her mind?"

Ryan turns, leaning against the counter, mug in hand. "I think she’s scared, just like you are. But yeah, I think she’ll come around. The question is, will you?"

The weight of his words settle on me. I know he’s right. This isn’t just about convincing Calla. It’s about convincing myself.

"I have to try," I say. “Calla’s only been gone an hour and I already miss her worse than you could ever know.”

Ryan walks back to the living room and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Then go. Talk to her. But remember, this isn’t just a business arrangement anymore. If you’re going to make a real go of it, you need to be all in. Don’t make any bargains or haggle with her. Just tell her how you feel."

"Thanks, man," I say, turning to the door.

"Hey, that mug isn’t a lie, you know!" he calls after me.

For the first time this morning, I smile. "I know. You're the best okayest friend a guy could have."