12. Jared
JARED
Married to Lacie. How many times had I envisioned that? Granted, the scenario had played out much differently in my mind, so much so that I didn’t have a clue in this moment what was real and what wasn’t.
The proposal would have been something I planned. I would have taken her ring shopping because Lacie is so particular—I knew she’d want a say in the diamond cut and size.
I paced the boards of the inn’s back porch, hands tucked in my pockets, air expelling invisible puffs from my open mouth. I ignored the shouts of laughter from people enjoying the hot tub at the porch’s east end, tucked my chin into my coat, and replayed the facts of the situation over and over, trying to find some sense in it all.
What was I going to do? Would I walk back into the inn only to find the whole thing was some random spoof? That we still had our separate rooms, separate lives?
Was this all in my head?
If the scenario hadn’t changed, I could play into it. Take advantage of the situation and let Lacie know how I really felt about her. Take her hand, act on the impulses I’d learned to repress a long time ago.
Would she be open to that?
She’d been so angry during her confrontation with Junie. So thrown off by the sight of her things in my room. Granted, I had been, too, but Lacie had really gone off about it.
Why was she so upset by this? If anything, I should be the one throwing tantrums about the change in our relationship.
Because I still had Tia.
What did this mean about her? Had things only gone wonky here at the inn, or were they affected back home, too?
Feeling cold, I opened the door and stepped back inside, welcoming the rush of heat that poured through me. I marched like a determined man through the hall, past the inn’s restaurant, past the stairs and front area, and into the waiting room.
The Christmas tree in the corner, the fire simmering in the fireplace, the large painting of a cottage hanging above the mangle—the room looked the same as ever.
Pacing, I removed my phone from my pocket. I swiped and passed Tia’s number in my contacts.
I could call her, although I wasn’t sure how well reception worked while people were on cruises. Even then, how would that conversation go?
Hi, Tia. Do you know if I’m married to Lacie or not?
I could call one of the guys, but they’d probably question my sanity or give me the same grief they always did for loving a woman who didn’t love me back.
No way. This was much better suited to someone I could count on—not only to be honest with me, but to not mock me. Much as it hurt my pride, I tapped my mom’s number.
“Hey, there, handsome,” Mom answered.
“Hey,” I said. “This is going to sound crazy but?—”
“Where did you end up taking Lacie?” Mom interrupted. “You insisted on keeping your honeymoon a secret even from me. I wouldn’t have spilled, you know. You can trust me with your secrets.”
“I—what? Taking Lacie where, did you say?” Had she just said honeymoon ?
“Taking Lacie ‘where’,” Mom muttered in an annoyed, underhanded tone. “Where else do you think?”
Whoa. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or continue in this endless loop of surprise. My heart rapped against my chest.
“So you—you think we’re married?”
“It’s normal to feel strange about it,” Mom said. “After your dad and I got married, I called my mom just to make sure it’d really happened, too.
“I kept expecting to feel different, like I’d risen to some higher plane or something, but it turned out I was still me. Still crazy for that man. And just because we’d said, ‘I do,’ that didn’t mean anything about me had changed, really. I needed confirmation that the cloud I was floating on was no cloud at all.”
“Mom—we’re not married. I’m with Tia, remember?”
“Jared Presley Kingston, stop this right now. You and Tia broke up over a year ago. Lacie met you at the altar. Her daddy gave her away, placed her hand in yours before the two of you gave yourselves to each other.”
I stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace, saying nothing.
My silence must have alarmed her because she prodded, “Jared? Honey, are you okay?”
My limbs had gone heavy. My mouth went slack, and I placed a hand against my sternum. Sure enough, my heart was still beating. My lungs were still expanding.
I was alive. This was an actual conversation, not something I was fantasizing.
I’d broken up with Tia. I’d married Lacie.
“Jared?”
I blinked. Too much. Turning my back on the crackling fire, I faced the table covered with antiques and stared at the old radio sitting on its lacy cloth.
“I’m fine. Sorry to bother you, Mom.”
“You’re not bothering me. Stop kidding around—I know you like your little jokes. I’ll talk to you when you get home, okay? I’m so glad you finally got it together and married her. Anya and I have been fantasizing about the two of you since you were born!”
That was no secret, either. I leaned against the nearest chair, glad she couldn’t see me losing control.
“I know. Thanks for everything. Love you.”
“Love you, honey.”
The call ended, and I stared at the antiques on the table, seeing them, but not really seeing anything at all.
Lacie Sorensen—loveable, hard-working, attentive, obsessive Lacie Sorensen—was my wife ? How could everyone else know as much and yet I didn’t remember it?
Did I hit my head? Maybe a weight had landed on me during my time in the gym—but I hadn’t yet made it to Harper’s Inn’s gym area that I could remember.
What were we supposed to do now? That didn’t mean the truth had changed between us, did it?
My breath caught in my chest. Muscles tense, I was torn between dashing to her, sweeping her into my arms, and spilling every one of my thoughts and keeping them all blocked inside as I’d done for years.
Feelings were already heightened. I couldn’t do anything stupid. Or impulsive.
I had to keep it together until we figured this out.