Chapter 4
Meirna
The first thing I register when I awake the next morning is that I’m sore.
Between my legs and even my stomach muscles from being in positions we haven’t tried before. Memories instantly flood into my head of his breathing in my ear, all the dirty promises he uttered in this spacious hotel room where we had sex on several different surfaces and walls.
Stretching my limbs, one arm falls along the empty space where Bobby was lying earlier. I listen for sounds of a shower, but the room is deathly quiet with no signs of life beside my own.
Disappointment floods my brain because it immediately goes to him being called in to work and not wanting to wake me. I’d give anything for Bobby to have a full twenty-four hours just to remain in the same vicinity as me, but I know his career calls.
And I still stand by what I said, supporting Bobby wherever he needs. Whether that be my patience, making him dinner, or surprise lunches. We’re going to make this work when his father gives up his CEO spot fully and stops harassing and stressing Bobby out.
I can’t wait.
A ping from my cell phone pulls me into my own reality. With my eyes, I search for it because I don’t remember where I laid it down the moment Bobby and I entered the room.
He was immediately on me again, ready for round two within seconds of unlocking the door. I’ve barely been able to take in the penthouse suite he booked for the night, but it’s not as though he needed my approval. Anywhere with him is where I want to be.
And we never did eat my cookies.
More for me, I guess.
My phone pings again, then rings, giving up its spot on the bedside table where another bouquet sits.
If I thought the one from yesterday was exquisite, this one is immaculate.
White dahlias with deep ruby-red roses give it a peak of color with a folded note along the glass vase.
Ignoring my phone, I pluck it up and quickly read the contents.
Duty calls, Daydream.
You looked so freshly fucked and perfect, I didn’t want to wake you up.
I’ll see you tonight.
— Your husband
I’m framing this.
I don’t care how dumb it is, I could live for these little notes and flowers for the rest of my life.
Bobby can skip the jewelry store and continue doing this.
My cell annoyingly pings again.
And again.
And again.
Ruining my little happy-go-lucky moment and has me glaring at the damn thing like it can control it.
I sigh, grab it, then open my screen to nine new text messages and three missed calls.
Pulling at the notifications, all the phone calls are from Catherine. Then click on my text messages and find seven are from the woman who needs to stop blowing me up, and two from Nettie.
I start with the annoying ones first.
CATHERINE: Don’t forget to call the priest to confirm Saturday.
No, good morning.
No, how are you, darling?
Nothing.
This woman is as cold as the damn roof last night. But the joke’s on her because I got married exactly how I wanted to.
My mother and father even suggested a smaller wedding, but Catherine wouldn’t even consider it with my father’s heart condition.
He has CHF—congestive heart failure—which makes him tire out easily and he can’t stand or sit upright for long periods of time.
Plus, travelling is too risky and not something I would ever want him to do for me.
Bobby and I hired of videographer to tape our wedding.
However, with last night, not only would it have not been appropriate with what we did afterward but I completely forgot about it.
Not that my parents would ride me about it like Catherine will when she discovers Bobby and I did our own thing.
CATHERINE: We have the final cake testing at noon. I’ll send a car to pick you up.
CATHERINE: Final dress fitting at two.
CATHERINE: Make-up at three.
CATHERINE: Did you have Bobby’s ring cleaned again? It needs to be perfect.
CATHERINE: Rehearsal dinner is at six. You’ll need to change. I’ll have Sandra bring your dress so you don’t have to run back home.
CATHERINE: Meirna, answer your phone. We have a busy day, and I need you on it.
Well, I don’t need to call the priest to confirm Saturday because I’m already married.
And, I’ve already told her Bobby’s and my cake selections, I don’t know why we need to test them out again.
I don’t need a car to pick me up; I know how to drive, and she knows this.
Bobby’s ring doesn’t need to be cleaned again because there’s nothing wrong with it. That’s ridiculous.
Her assistant, Sandra doesn’t need to bring me anything to the rehearsal dinner because there’s isn’t a need for one.
And, no, I won’t answer the phone because I’m not doing any of this anymore.
I’d love to leave the news of our secret wedding in Bobby’s hands, but…that may fall on me, and the utter rage this woman will have when her hundred grand wedding is suddenly called off.
Sighing, I pull my texts up with Bobby and can’t help but smile even though his mother is driving me up a wall.
MEIRNA: Hello, husband. <3 Your mother is calling/texting me. Help.
It doesn’t take but a second for him to respond.
BOBBY: Good morning, beautiful.
BOBBY: What could she possibly need now? I swear she runs on people’s annoyance and lack of fucks.
MEIRNA: To go over everything we’ve planned for the wedding again.
MEIRNA: We’re not still doing this, are we?
BOBBY: LOL.
BOBBY: I’m afraid so, babe. She’ll lose her shit. And I need to see you walk down that aisle for all my family and friends to see.
I thought that was the point of getting married in private.
We didn’t discuss it last night—I was too busy getting my brains fucked out of me—but I thought it was implied.
Communication, Meirna.
It must be important for him. And he did do last night, especially for you.
Sucking in a deep breath to soothe down some of my irritation, I take one for the team because we are a team.
MEIRNA: Then I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner, husband.
BOBBY: That’s sexy as fuck, Meirna.
BOBBY: I’ll see you tonight.
I need a Xanax and a cinnamon cheesecake cookie.