Chapter 5
Jake
Inodded, mesmerized by how small her hand looked in mine.
Wait.
My eyes darted up to meet hers. It would have been easy to dismiss what she’d said as an offhand comment but based on the earnest look in her eyes, I didn’t think that’s what she meant. I swallowed. “Yours do?”
She nodded and licked her lips, adding a shine to the raspberry color painted there. “You could use mine. Get the help you need. There are plenty of resources out there.”
I was missing something. Or maybe I wasn’t. The only way I could use her insurance was if we were… “How would I be able to use yours?”
She cleared her throat. “Well, you would either need to be my child or my husband. You’re a little old for me to adopt you so I guess that leaves one option.”
Being married to Natalie? I couldn’t say it wasn’t in my long-term dreams. I needed to work on my mental health.
That was the only way I could commit to another person and really put myself into it.
If we were together, I would want her to know the real me.
The me I was eager to get back to. The person I was before I saw, handled, and repressed too much.
I had no way to get the help I needed if I didn’t do this.
Maybe I just had to rearrange the order I wanted my life to take.
Marriage could come first and love later.
“You’d do that for me?” All my attempts to deal with this on my own had failed and eventually, I would just have to quit and find somewhere else to work.
Still, she had spilled to me about her people-pleasing ways and how hard it was for her to say no.
I didn’t want to be one more responsibility that she didn’t ask for.
“You know you don’t have to fix everyone’s problems, right? ”
She shrugged. “You need help, and we’re friends, right?”
Friends. There was that word again.
“I have no idea what it would entail to get it done but I want to try if you do. This isn’t the same as me taking my coworkers’ shifts. I want to help you.”
This wasn’t her problem to solve. A selfish part of me wanted her in my life, even if it wasn’t real.
Maybe if she was the one who helped me get back to myself, I could finally ask her out like I’d wanted to since the first time I saw her.
If she insisted, I wouldn’t be taking advantage I would be stupid not to accept her help.
“What if you meet someone you want to marry for real?”
She barked a laugh. “I don’t have a lot of prospects at the moment.”
I looked her over. Her hair was a shade of dark brown that shined a little red in the sun.
Today, the top was pinned back from her face and the rest danced around her shoulders in delicate waves.
She was average height, the top of her head coming to my nose, and looked soft and curvy in all the right places.
“I have a hard time believing you have no dating prospects.”
She snorted. “If either of us have prospects, it’s you. The head of every woman in the library turns when you walk in.”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, once I walk through the doors the only one I see is you.”
Her eyes softened and she squeezed my hand again. I didn’t know if I was doing this for the right reason or just to keep her close. Either way, the result would be the same. I gave a nod. “Well, if you are going to be my wife you should probably give me your number.”
She blushed, took my phone from me, and started typing. “Getting clingy already, is that really the kind of marriage you want?”
I can’t tell her what I really want. “Definitely; I’m going to steal french fries off your plate, warm your car up for you when it’s cold out, and text you to make sure you made it to work safely.”
Her eyes shine as she smiles. “Well then, I will keep your favorite beer in the fridge, buy you socks when the old ones get holes, and steal one of your sweatshirts. Classic wife behavior.”
This fake marriage thing was starting to sound pretty great. “I’ll bring you my best sweatshirt. It’ll look better on you anyway.”
Her head tilted and it was like she was melting from my words. “Not to push this too far too fast but how is this going to work logistically? Like, do we just keep this whole thing under wraps, or should we fake a whirlwind romance and marriage?” I could see the wheels in her head turning.
“What do you think?”
She tapped her finger against her chin. Her nails were short but painted dark blood red that I would love to see scratching down my chest. “Well, my coworkers are nosey, I can’t imagine I would be able to add you to my insurance without someone finding out.”
I nodded. “My office manager knows about the situation and wants to be kept up to date on how things are going. It would be easier to just say I got married and now have better benefits rather than making up another lie.”
“What about family? What do we tell them?”
I’d have to think about that. Not having them be at my wedding, or even just meet my wife, seemed wrong and strange.
What option did I have though? I could tell them I eloped and make them upset, just for us to split up once I made some progress in therapy.
Alternatively, I could tell them it was fake and have them think I need even more therapy just for going through with such a weird plan.
“My family lives in Ontario, I don’t see them often. ”
“So, if your therapy goes well, we will probably be divorced before you even have to tell them.”
Her words hurt and I fought the urge to wince. “What about your family?”
“I’ll figure something out.” She looked off across the park and then started fiddling with the ends of her hair.
“God, everyone is going to think this is a shotgun wedding.” Images of what it would take to have my baby inside her rushed through my mind without permission.
Natalie over me, or under me. My name on her lips.
My hands on her skin. I stood, hoping my baggy jeans hid any evidence of how her words had affected me.
“Are you sure you are okay with this?” I studied her face, looking for any sign of doubt.
I wanted her in my life. I wanted to be good at my job so I could be a good partner to her.
What I didn’t want was to have her do something she would regret just because she was the kind of person who always wanted to help.
A slow smile spreads across her lips. “Yes, Jake Taylor, I will marry you.”