Chapter 9 Adam
Currently playing: Float On by Modest Mouse
***
I was mid-stride, on my way to the tiny café in the hotel lobby, when a familiar manicured hand reached out to grab my wrist. I had the strength to not stop in place, but when it came to the blonde a few inches shorter and a heck of a lot more nimble than me, I’d given a lot of that strength up years ago.
I turned around to see Rachel biting her lip and looking up at me with these round, apologetic eyes. She pulled her hand back and wiped both of them across her denim shorts. Then she settled them in a grasp at her waist. The unease on her face alone was enough to make my heart race, but the undeniable tremble in her fingers set me on the edge.
Craning my neck, I looked to see if anyone was following behind her.
“What’s wrong? Did someone do something?”
She shook her head. “I need to talk with you.”
My stomach sank. She wanted to get the marriage annulled before we left. Wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened and scratch off our talk from last week. I couldn’t blame her. In fact, I had been waiting for that to happen. Didn’t necessarily make it any easier, though.
I took a glance back at the café and to the empty space down the hall, then pulled her with me there to keep my nosy family from seeing.
When we settled, her eyes had what looked like fear in them. I couldn’t hold back as both my hands gripped her shoulders and I dipped to force her to look at me. “What’s wrong?”
Rachel took a deep breath and raised both hands. “Hear me out.”
Without hesitation, I nodded.
She pointed an accusatory finger at me. “Do not yell at me.”
“I’ve never once done that.”
“Mmm. Are you sure?”
“Why would I ever yell at you?”
“Sometimes you do it with your eyebrows.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please get this over with.”
She sighed deeply. “Okay, okay.” She puffed out her chest, lifting up her head to me. “I think…we should stay married.”
I shrugged. “Okay.”
Rachel raised her hands in defense. “Hear me out. I know it’s crazy, but we—wait.” She pulled back. “Did you just say okay?”
“I did.”
“Adam, you can’t—” she sputtered. “This isn’t like us agreeing to split a lunch or something. I’m talking marriage. I would be your wife. W-I-F-E. Wifey for lifey would become a real, daily term.”
“I’m familiar with the concept. Though I would rather not call you wifey. Now or ever.”
She scoffed. “You haven’t even heard my reasoning. Why would you just say yes?”
It all felt simple to me. If she wanted to stay married, who was I to argue?
“You’re the only person I’d ever want to marry. Why would I argue?”
Her eyes went wide, and now I was beginning to wonder if we were on the same page at all. “Adam. You cannot be this irrational. You are a grown adult. Think here for a moment. This is not something you can just say okay to. I need you to be the brutey, grumpy troll you are right now.”
“I did think about it. Right before I asked you to marry me.” And possibly before then too, but that was irrelevant right now.
“Stop being so literal here.” She furrowed her brows like an angry chipmunk.
“If you wanted me to be against it, why did you even ask?”
She took a deep breath. “I do not want to sound like a gold digger—”
“Great start to our marriage,” I mumbled.
“But Calla may or may not have mentioned that military members who are married get extra benefits.”
I nodded. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered that in the shower this morning. Her dad needed help, and so did she. Rachel loved to pretend like she was fine. She loved to pass everything off with an it is what it is excuse. Meanwhile you could visibly watch the pain grow in her eyes. I’d watched her break down before over the bills piling up. How she couldn’t get her dad on Medicare yet due to his younger age and because his early onset dementia wasn’t enough to qualify him for the resources they needed. How, since he’d passed all of his health evaluations with flying colors, his slipping memory didn’t allow them a lower cost in healthcare. It was all a load of horseshit. And she’d had to carry it by herself for years. She’d quit school to take care of him, worked a mediocre paying job, and spent every minute of her life saving others.
If I could lighten that load by legally being her husband, I was willing to do just that.
“We do.”
“So I could maybe get on your health insurance. And since I am in charge of Dad’s medical bills, maybe he would be connected. Or at the least maybe get him a couple benefits that the VA couldn’t on his end.”
“He would.”
Her rambles went on without a breath between them. “So it would really, really help me out. I know that sounds extremely selfish, but you know how hard it’s been on both of us. I feel like this would be an opportunity for me to set us straight so I won’t have to spend so much on healthcare visits and—”
“Rachel. Stop.” I reached for her hand, wrapping my fingers around hers and letting my thumb rest on her ring. “How many times have I offered to help?”
She sniffled, and my heart cracked. “A million.”
“And you would never take it. You practically cussed me out every time I even tried. I’m not offended, and you shouldn’t be either. Plus, there are benefits for me too.”
“Like what?”
Her eyes looked up innocently at mine, and I wondered if I should spill it all here. Tell her every bit of truth from day one and leave nothing behind. Say screw it to some family brunch and tell her everything I had spent years working hard to keep to myself.
But no. This wasn’t the time or the place. She deserved it, yes. Deserved to know everything. But not in some rushed ramble after we had already made drunken mistakes the night before. We needed to get settled. Needed to get home and breathe. Then I would share it all. Every piece of me.
Therefore, my answer was simple. “I would receive extra compensation each month.”
She eyed me, scrunching up her face. “Aren’t you basically rich?”
My lips curled. “No, I’m just good at saving. But I have an investment with too many monthly expenses that I need to pay down. This would help.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t entirely the truth either. It was enough to get by on till we got home.
She paused. “So you are also a gold digger?”
“No.”
“Face it, Adam, we’re basically the seven dwarfs, except there are only two of us.”
“I…no.”
She smiled, most of her skepticism wiped off her face by now. “But still, you’re sure about this? I feel like you should be pushing back at least some.”
I should be. I should be asking questions. I ought to have at least some hesitation regarding marriage. But for this part, I could easily tell her the truth.
“I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t want to.”
A faint blush creeped up her cheeks. “Fair enough. You’re not freaking out about this as much as I need you to.”
How could I explain this without sending her running? Without making it sound like I was over my head in all of this? I didn’t mind being married to her because there was no one else I could ever be married to.
My eyes shifted from her ring to the floor. “It’s not exactly a secret that I don’t love…”
“People?” she cut in. “Human interaction? Accepting the fact that sometimes you have to talk to others in order to live?”
“Yes. But it’s…” I paused, searching for the right word and coming up short. “It’s different with you. It’s not like I was going to get married anytime soon. I’m getting too old to try the whole Tinder thing.”
She waved a hand. “That’s arguable. You could always try meeting a nice lady at Dad’s assisted living home.”
“Listen, smart-ass. I’m saying that if that’s what you want, then I’m fine with it. You could use the help with your dad, and I could use the extra money and the excuse to help me avoid being deployed too far and traveling so much. It’s fine.”
A lot of my coworkers were married, and although they were held to the same standards, it helped when push came to shove that I was the only single guy in our unit. If someone’s wife was having a baby, or their kid was suddenly not doing well, they would send me out first. I’d never cared before, but now I felt an urge to be grounded. Well, as much as they would let me.
Rachel sighed and looked down at her ring, twisting it around her finger. Then her face relaxed, like it had some kind of magical power to put her at ease. That alone also relaxed my shoulders. I grabbed her soft, dainty hand and pressed my thumb against her finger, just above the ring.
We’d be fine, because we’d be together. And that was enough.