Chapter 15
fifteen
. . .
RORY
My wife.
Those two words linger between the five of us.
I’m the one who said them, yet I’m as shocked as everyone else.
Next to me, Summer sways, but the arm I’ve got around her lower back tightens to steady her.
My parents and Daphne gape at us, but beside me, Summer is stunning in her red polo and black skirt. She must have come straight from work. In fact, based on the time, she left work early.
I’m so fucking happy she’s here. I pull her in and press a kiss to her temple.
It’s a simple gesture. Sweet. But one look at my mom’s face, and you’d think I’d lifted Summer onto the table and put my head between her legs.
Another second of silence passes before my mom starts crying.
No, not crying. Sobbing .
“That’s absurd,” my mom wails. “How could you marry someone without telling us?”
“I—” I begin, but my mom cuts me off. Apparently, she’s not interested in the answer.
“Why?!” She covers her face with her napkin, and rocks back and forth. “Why is this happening to me?”
“Is this some kind of a joke?” my dad barks. “Why would you marry someone like…someone like her?”
Summer stiffens beside me. “That’s not very nice. You don’t even know me.”
I’d gotten caught up in the moment with Summer. I’d seen where she was going with her plan. Full commitment. Legally binding. That would be the only thing that could put a stop to my parents’ insistence that me and Daphne were meant to be. But the fallout from that one thrilling moment isn’t good. This is spiraling out of control quickly.
Daphne rushes to my mom’s side. “Mary Ann, you just had a facial, the salt from your tears is going to dry you out.”
“Oh, y-you’re right.” But it only makes her cry harder.
At the tables around us, people start to glance in our direction, whispering.
Once my mom realizes her audience and what kind of scene she’s making with her sobs, she stands and rushes for the door. My father, who also hates a scene, but because they involve showing any kind of emotion at all, stands to follow her.
On his way out, he stops at my side.
“You’ve upset your mother. Now I have to deal with it,” he hisses.
I’m used to doing what they need me to do. And tonight, my mom expected me to sit here and happily converse with my ex-girlfriend, with the plan of us getting back together. So, having a woman they don’t even know announce that we’re married has thoroughly ruined her evening.
With my parents both gone, Daphne stands from where she was perched by my mom’s chair. She gives me and Summer a tight smile.
“Rory, when you’re done playing games, you know where to find me.”
“It’s not a game, sweetheart. We’re in L-O-V-E, love,” Summer announces loudly.
Daphne rolls her eyes before hitching her designer purse onto her shoulder and brushing past us. At one time, I cared for Daphne, but our relationship wasn’t right. Something was missing. It’s even more evident now we want different things.
With the entire dining room staring at us, I grab Summer’s hand and guide her through the room. My mom’s overdramatic cries echo down the hallway, so I pull us through a side exit near the pro shop, the opposite direction of where Daphne and my parents went.
“Well, that was wild,” Summer says, a self-satisfied grin on her face.
“Says the woman who walked in and announced that we’re married .”
“I know.” Summer’s blue eyes light with glee. “Did you see their faces?”
We walk down the path on the edge of the golf course, then through a side gate that leads down to the beach.
I press my lips together to stifle a smile. I don’t want to hurt my parents but knowing my mom’s theatrics were based on the loss of her own desires for my life, not because she was truly worried I’d made a mistake is disheartening. “Yeah, I was there.”
“God, what jerks. They didn’t even say congratulations. Your mom made it all about her. How would you getting married make them so upset?” She pauses; eyes locked on where I’m still holding her hand. “I mean besides the fact that you never mentioned you were dating anyone. Or that they’d never met me.”
My jaw tightens as I process my parents’ reaction. Summer is right.
For years, I thought I owed them. Early morning meets, club fees, travel expenses—they gave everything to support my swimming. They sacrificed things in the pursuit of my dreams and they never let me forget it. Guilt is my mom’s favorite form of currency.
Over the last decade, I’ve used money from swimming to help with their businesses, I’ve done everything they’ve asked of me, but it’s never enough. I’ve always felt like I owed them something. Like my life wasn’t mine and I don’t know at what point they would have been satisfied.
Summer drops my hand and turns toward the beach path. Her shoulders are tense, her pace brisk, like she’s trying to outrun the conversation.
“Are you okay?” I ask, wondering if the chaos of what just happened is catching up to her.
“Just…give me…a minute.” Her purse drops from her shoulder and onto the sand next to her.
At the sound of Summer’s shaky breathing, my heart rate ticks up.
“Where’s your inhaler?” I ask.
“I don’t need it. I’ll…” She sucks in a wheezing breath, “I’ll be f-fine.”
By the sound of her labored breathing, I’m not reassured. I pick up her purse and pull out the inhaler in there. But something is different about it. I’m no expert on inhalers, but it feels lighter now. Turning it in my hand, I notice a number on the bottom. It doesn’t take an expert to know that zero means there’s no medication left.
“It’s empty.”
Summer opens her eyes briefly to roll them at me. She takes another shallow breath before answering. “Yeah, I know. It’s not a big deal.”
Her cavalier attitude sends a jolt of frustration into my blood. “Not a big deal? You’re literally wheezing.”
“I’m not wheezing. I’m just…breathing with personality.”
I can’t believe she’s joking about this. “Oh, so struggling to inhale is a cute little quirk now?”
“Some people bite their nails. I breathe like Darth Vader.” She demonstrates to prove her point.
“Summer, this isn’t cute. You’re scaring me.”
“It’s not an attack.” She pauses to inhale slowly, then exhale. “I’m getting it under control.”
“If this was an attack, and your inhaler is empty, what was your plan?”
“I don’t know…maybe breathe less?”
That snarky tone of hers is usually a huge turn on but in this situation, it’s downright infuriating.
“Not funny.”
“You’re not funny,” she says calmly, focusing on her breathing. “You’re freaking out over n—nothing.”
“I’m freaking out because you act like breathing is optional!” I’m sure my frustration with her isn’t keeping with the calm environment she’s trying to create but I can’t fucking believe she doesn’t see this as an issue.
“Give me a minute.” She sucks in a deep, uneven breath before exhaling. “I’ll calm down.”
“No.” I shake my head, refusing to wait and see if she can breathe properly. “We’re getting this filled.” I hold up her inhaler. “Now.”
Picking up her purse, I motion for us to start walking in the direction of the club’s parking lot. Thankfully, Summer lets me guide her in that direction.
I’ll admit, her breathing isn’t as strained as it was when I pulled her out of the ocean, but I’m also not waiting around for it to progress to that. I can’t imagine how Summer feels. What it must feel like to struggle to get air into your lungs.
I’ve trained my body to go without oxygen for impossible stretches. Watching her now, I’d trade lungs with her if I could.
When I open the passenger door to my Jeep, she doesn’t protest, likely because she doesn’t have the spare air.
I pull out of the parking lot and head for the pharmacy.
“Rory, I can’t,” she says as we drive along. “A refill is nearly five hundred dollars to pay out of pocket.” She sucks in an unstable breath. “And I don’t have insurance.”
She’d told me before when I hurt her wrist, but at the time I didn’t think about the impact that would have on her ability to fill her inhaler prescription. I’ve always had health insurance, with my parents, and then through the team. As a professional athlete, I have the best coverage money can buy. It’s always been necessary for health and injury prevention, and when I had my surgery last year, it assured me top medical care. I hate that Summer can’t afford it.
I’d easily pay so much more so that Summer could breathe properly. But also, that’s an insane amount of money for necessary medication.
“Why’s it so expensive?”
“I can’t use the generic brand. I’m one of the small percent of people that it causes side effects in.”
“What are the side effects from the generic brand?” I ask.
“Heart palpitations.”
“Jesus Christ.”
With one hand on the steering wheel, I run my other hand through my hair in frustration.
“How long have you been rationing your medication?” I ask.
“I was doing okay. Then, I had some unexpected expenses that put me behind. Vet bills for Edgar, and my van needed maintenance. Things piled up and I had to skip a month.”
“Your life-saving medication should be top priority.” I turn to give her a pointed look to drive home my point. “We’re getting you that medication now.”
“Rory, I refuse to let you pay for it. It’s an obscene amount of money.”
Summer won’t take something for nothing. It’s endearing and annoying.
At the pharmacy, I pull into the lot and park my Jeep.
“I’m really…okay now.”
I turn to Summer.
“What about next time? When it’s a real attack and you can’t calm your breathing?”
Her eyes fight to cover it up, but I see it there…fear. While she wants to project this calm exterior, she isn’t fooling me. She’s scared.
“The medication is cheaper with insurance?” I ask.
“Yeah, but I don’t have it. And while I’ve researched it, my monthly premiums are too high for me to maintain.”
I can’t believe this is her reality. I’d pay ten times the cost if it meant she could breathe without fear. And then the thought hits me, so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.
“Marry me.”
“What?” She scoffs. Then when she realizes I’m dead serious, “ No .”
“You proposed earlier.”
“I didn’t propose. I said we were already married.”
“Which is a repercussion I’m going to have to deal with when my parents find out it’s not true.”
“But—”
“It’s simple. We get married. You get access to my insurance, which is top notch, and I get my parents off my back. It’s a win-win.”
“Did you suck in too much pool water today? I’m not marrying you.” She crosses her arms. “I’m not marrying anyone. Ever .” Her eyes flash like a hurt animal that’s been cornered.
I study her carefully. “What do you have against marriage?”
“Everything.” She closes her eyes and leans back into the seat. “Who voluntarily signs up for a lifetime of arguing, distrust, and unhappiness?”
“That seems like a harsh assessment of marriage.”
“Well, it’s the one that I have.”
“Are your parents divorced?” I ask.
“No, that would have been better. There’s nothing worse than a couple staying together that should be apart.” She sighs. “And the expectations? The commitment, the ‘til death do us part? How can a relationship thrive under that kind of pressure?”
I give her questions a thought. It was only a week ago I vowed to keep my life void of distractions. To focus solely on swimming so I wouldn’t have any regrets with how my training and ultimately the outcome of my last run for gold turns out.
“So, ours won’t be like that.”
“I can’t talk about this now.”
She’s wheezing again, and I realize my proposal along with Summer’s distaste for marriage might trigger an attack. Right now, I need to focus on getting her medication.
Leaving our discussion behind, I exit the car and move to the other side to open Summer’s door. She’s already got it open and while she attempts a sidestep, I grasp her hand to redirect her into the pharmacy.
As we approach, the woman behind the counter eyes Summer. “Miss, like I said—we don’t do payment plans.”
My chest clenches at her rebuff. She’s just doing her job, but it’s heartbreaking that Summer hasn’t been able to refill her prescription that is a lifeline in an emergency, because she doesn’t have the means to do so.
“Good. We’re not asking for one.” I hand the woman my credit card. “We’ll take one month’s supply, please.”
The woman takes my credit card and looks up Summer’s prescription.
“Give me a few minutes.”
I nod and move away from the counter.
“Rory—” Summer starts after me, but I turn and guide her to the corner of the pharmacy.
“I’m not in the mood to argue,” I say, more gruffly than I intend to. But while she’s been treating this whole thing like it’s normal, I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.
My hand cups her jaw.
“Damn it, Summer. You may be the one who can’t breathe properly, but watching you struggle and feeling so fucking helpless is god damn torture for me.”
With our eyes locked, she swallows thickly. Her hand reaches up and encircles my wrist.
“I get it. It’s scary for me, too. I joke about it because if I don’t, then I’ll cry instead.” She inhales deeply, and my eyes drop to watch her chest rise and fall, looking for any sign of distress. “Edgar needed surgery. He had a tooth abscess and was in a lot of pain. The surgery was expensive, something I hadn’t planned on.”
“You prioritized Edgar’s surgery over your medication?” I know Edgar is important to her, but he’s a dog. Summer is going without her medication because she spent the money on Edgar’s health care instead of her own? I want to commend her on being a caring human being, while also throttling her for being reckless.
“Yeah.”
I inhale sharply. Now I’m the one who has to control their breathing. “Do you know how careless that was?”
“He’s all I have. I couldn’t stand to see him in pain.”
My eyes scan her face. I’ve known Summer less than a week, but she’s already carved out a space inside me that I didn’t know existed. Again, it’s that feeling of not being able to stay away from her. Needing to protect her and make sure she’s okay.
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Summer McKee,” the pharmacist assistant calls. Summer’s inhaler is ready.
She hands Summer the paper bag with her medication in it. Then, she hands me back my insurance card.
“I ran your insurance card and with your plan the medication is thirty-eight dollars.”
“For a month’s refill?” I confirm.
“Yes.”
My eyes find Summer’s and even though she knows what I’m suggesting, she simply takes the bag and walks out.