Chapter 22
Gabriel
The string quartet my mom hired is playing soft music as River and I stand at the back of the clearing at the resort. Our family’s makeshift football field has been transformed. It’s the edge of summer, and the surrounding trees provide a nice wind break.
River is next to me, though I don’t turn to look at her. I made that mistake a few minutes ago, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
This is a business arrangement. Yes, we’re living in a tiny cottage together. I drive her everywhere she needs to go, to and from work, to and from Skye’s home unless Jana can. But we sleep in separate beds, except for that one night that we’ve never talked about.
My mom put together a beautiful reception. Thankfully, it could pass for simply a nice party. None of this “Mr. and Mrs.”
themed décor nonsense.
River seems to agree with the sentiment, as she’s spent a large portion of the night not standing near me, her “loving husband.”
River’s independent. Hopefully no one suspects that anything’s amiss.
Because she’s been distant the last few days.
And then there’s my father. He’s barely said a word to either of us all night, just watching with hawklike eyes.
It’s a small affair. A few friends and a couple of cousins. All of my sisters-in-law and brothers are here, including Benson. Our niece, Navie, is wearing a flower girl dress and is garnering more attention than River and I are, which is fine by me.
I imagine this whole thing is for my mom anyway. She’s getting her strength back after her recent health problems. So, it’s a celebration for her and her health as much as it is for our wedding.
Which is a sham.
And it’s going to hurt her when it ends.
Aunt Stella walks up, holding Navie’s hand on one side and arm and arm with Skye on the other. Skye took to her right as she arrived and, as I predicted, Stella is eating all this up.
“My darlings!”
Stella croons, pulling River and me into a hug. Luckily for me, River happened to be nearby. Stella’s eyes are gleaming as her gaze goes back and forth between us. “As surprising as this is, I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you,”
River says with a smile. She looks at me. “I’ve gotten to know Stella when she’s visited the family at the resort.”
“I couldn’t have handpicked a better wife for you, Gabriel. River’s special. And so is her sister, Skye.”
Stella pulls Skye closer, then grasps River’s cheek. “I just hope you two can make it work and be happy with one another and all that jazz.”
Stella gives me a pointed look before moving on to my brother. And now alarms are going off in my head.
Does she know something? Did Milo tell her?
I don’t have time to try to suss out Milo because there’s suddenly a frisson happening next to me. I don’t see it because I’m trying to avoid staring at my bride. But I feel it, this flicker of unease.
“Antonio?”
River gusts out a breathy laugh, something I’ve never heard her do before. It’s . . . exaggerated but very real. And charming.
The man tilts his head towards me. His tight, black curls brush his shoulders and fall in front of his face. “Dude, can I hug your wife?”
he asks with a confident grin.
It’s a display of courtesy, but there’s a playfulness to it, a history between them.
History lifts off both of them like the scent of cabbage—obvious and unpleasant. And though it’s none of my business who my wife has a past with and there’s nothing I can do about it now, I’m jealous.
Plainly, stupidly jealous that he’s known her for longer than I have.
I bite the inside of my cheek and feel River’s gaze swivel to mine. Just as I say, “Be my guest,”
River clicks her tongue.
“I’m not his property!”
She glances at me over her shoulder, steps toward this Antonio person, and wraps her arms around him. “I can hug whomever I want.”
And now she’s giggling as she and Antonio hug an inordinately long amount of time. I search the attendees to see if my dad is seeing this.
It’s not good. And not because I feel a surge of very impractical, inconvenient, and illogical jealousy. So many “I” words.
I nearly reach out to pull them apart when they ease out of the hug.
“Oh!”
River exclaims, like she forgot I was there. “Gabriel, this is Antonio. Antonio, Gabriel.”
She gestures with her fingers, and I catch a gleam from her diamond ring. The diamond I gave her. She points to Antonio. “He’s an old college friend but he now works in Human Relations at Caring Souls. And—”
she points to me. “He’s my husband. Who I met through work. Sort of.”
I reach out a hand and as I’m shaking his, I think of crushing it hard so that he knows what’s up.
Which is immature. See? Another “I”
word. I should probably stop thinking about me, myself, and I and grow up. I don’t have any real claim on her.
And now her actions have gotten the attention of my father, who’s knocking back yet another drink and staring at the three of us.
“I saw the flier and wanted to come say hello. Congratulations.”
Antonio shakes his head. “River getting hitched. Wow. I didn’t think that would ever happen.”
I parse out hints of discomfort and pain in Antonio’s otherwise glowing expression.
Did she reject him in the past? I’m struck with how little I actually know about my wife.
“Now, now. I never said that.”
She glances over at me and tangles her fingers in mine. There’s a fleeting sense of rightness in the world. “You know why I stopped dating in college. That didn’t mean anything for the future, though.”
“Obviously,”
Antonio’s stare has a chill to it before he turns to look at her again. “And I know it was because of your parents.”
He frowns and something passes between them. Memories, a connection. It’s sad I don’t have any memories with her like he does.
“Antonio was a good friend after the crash,”
she says to me, a wistful smile on her lips. She squeezes my hand tighter.
“Well then, I owe you thanks. It helps knowing she had people to rely on during that time.”
Her brows lift, but I mean every word. I couldn’t be there when her parents died. I didn’t even know her, but the fact that she had people to talk to helps.
“It was rough. And she had to drop her classes. She graduated after finishing online.”
“The university was understanding of my situation,” she adds.
“Yeah, I always thought that, with you and Skye so close, you weren’t much interested in getting married, and then after the crash, forget about it,”
Antonio says. “But I’m glad that’s changed.”
Again, another look passes between them. History.
Someone from the catering company comes up with a tray and Antonio takes a small plate of hors d’oeuvres. I do, too, and now we’re just two guys, eating at a wedding reception, throwing darts at each other with our eyes.
I have the inexplicable urge to grab him by the lapels and scream in his curly hair-ringed face, She is my wife!
Clearly, his small plate of appetizers isn’t enough to get him to go sit down and leave us alone, as he keeps on talking. Something about memories of eating sub sandwiches by the foot because they were cheap and driving up to a mountaintop in the country where it was extra dark so they could watch a meteor shower.
The thought of Antonio taking her on a mountaintop to do anything has my blood boiling.
I flag down another server, get another plate of appetizers, and try to tune them out, keeping aware of where my dad is at all times.
Finally, Antonio says something reasonable, telling us he’s going to go sit down. Hallelujah.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I spin to her, draw my arm around her waist and tug her close so I can whisper. “What was that all about?”
She tilts her head back, her gaze searching mine. “What?”
A frustrated groan escapes me. “You know exactly what. Him. Hanging on his every word. Laughing it up like you were still in college.”
“I wasn’t—“ Her brown, darkly lined eyes grow large. “Wait.”
She leans in closer. “Are you jealous of Antonio?”
I laugh. “Absolutely not. I just worry about my father’s perceptions. This whole thing could go south very quickly.”
“That’s right. Because this is all fake. And you’re terrified your dad will know that.”
She crosses her arms over her middle, sadness creeping over her features. “That’s what this whole male chauvinist vibe is all about.”
“I’m not a chauvinist, River. Come on, you know me better than that.”
She sighs and gives a small shake of her head. “I probably don’t know you better than that.”
“You want me to be jealous?”
“No,”
she scoffs. “I remember the contract. No dating. No flirting. I’ve done neither. We said our vows, and I don’t think either of us should act outside of them.”
“Well, I can agree with you on that.”
I grab her hand, find a tray with dirty dishes to leave my plates on, and head to the edge of the clearing, pulling her behind a thicket of trees. “Except, that could have been viewed as flirting.”
I cock a brow.
“It wasn’t!”
Now that we’re in a more private area, her voice has free rein.
“Okay, fine. Call it what you will. I don’t know why he was even here, but whatever.”
“You know I invited everyone from Caring Souls. It’s not a problem, Gabriel. I’m glad to see him again.”
“But you were chummy, and my father was watching.”
“Chummy? Have you been reading Nancy Drew?”
she asks, her eyes glinting in the dusky air.
I ignore the Nancy Drew comment, even though part of me wants to laugh, begrudgingly. “Tonight is about you and me, not you and Antonio.”
As soon as I spit out his name, I know I sound petty. I know it. But I can’t stop myself.
She arches a brow. “This side of you is entertaining. But I’m confused.”
She starts to pace in front of me, and it looks like she’s talking to herself. “All of this is confusing. We’re pretending, but is this part pretend? I don’t understand.”
She wheels back to me. “Antonio is a friend, nothing more.”
I don’t understand, either. I shouldn’t be jealous, but this whole pretend wedding reception and having my father here have unnerved me. That’s what it’s about, right? Regardless, I can’t let this go. “Then step off and act like my wife.”
She tilts her chin in the air, her voice chilling. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
Her slitted gaze shifts to something behind me and then her eyes widen. She steps to me, yanks at my shoulders, goes on tiptoe and crushes my mouth in a kiss.