Chapter Eleven
So much for life insurance.
Mars
I’m in love. Again. More. Double love. Triple? I don’t know. Whatever love I was in previously, exponentially multiply it by infinity.
I have been educated. My life is changed, forever. I’ve been naive, ignorant, oblivious! So, in my delusion, I say what I’m thinking without first filtering my thoughts through a cheesecloth of haha, that is not actually socially acceptable, Mars. “What’s your opinion on Taco Bell weddings?”
Ceres lifts a brow, taking a long drag from her drink. “Like, catered? The burritos will get cold.”
My head shakes as I finish one of my Spicy Potato Soft Tacos. “Not catered. As a location.”
“The Taco Bell building. As a location. For a wedding?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s much more sensible than catering. Then the food can be made fresh and warm on-site after the vows, or whatever happens at a wedding. If you’re rich enough for it, make it an open bar, but it’s Taco Bell, not alcohol.”
If I hadn’t just put a nacho in my mouth, I would be asking Ceres to marry me.
I don’t know how someone so perfect for me could even exist. I thought soulmates only appeared in fantasy books, but here she is.
Mine. Opening her third item from Taco Bell as though she could consume her entire order all over again.
I want to write sonnets in her honor.
I want to order one of everything on the menu for her.
I want her. Badly.
She should always be happy and comfortable. Always safe. Always spoiled.
I wonder if I should open a trust fund in her name or take out a second life insurance policy for her. Then Jovey and Ceres can get millions if I perish unexpectedly.
My unexpected demise isn’t impossible, after all. My inability to marry this woman within a reasonable timeframe—yesterday—might just kill me.
It’s very good to be prepared.
While I’ve blacked out to plan both a future together and a future without me, she has stopped talking.
Eating one of her own nachos, she scrolls on her phone and hums. Referencing the schedule I emailed to her, she says, “Permits and venue are up first. That makes sense. Do you have a location in mind?”
“There’s my old school gym or the fairgrounds.”
“With a gym, we wouldn’t have to worry about weather, but the parking is better at the fairgrounds, and you do also want rides.”
I dip another of my nachos. “Rides are great. The fairgrounds also have the auditorium, so if the weather sucks, we can make a backup plan so vendors won’t be impaired.”
“The cost is something to consider.”
It would be, if I left Jove with access to all our funds.
The man burns money like he’s allergic to the stuff.
Which is why I do not provide him full access to our accounts, or explain the repercussions of my life insurance policy, or delineate the result of any investments I make. “Money isn’t a concern.”
“Are we going to advertise this event beyond Bandera to ensure we make a profit?”
“Profit isn’t the concern.”
Ceres lifts her attention off her phone.
“This is a passion project,” I clarify. A passion project for Jove, if she’ll recall, but I don’t want to mention him right now, or in front of her, ever again.
She blinks. “Ah. A passion project.” She lowers her gaze. “Like mail.”
Like…mail? My eye twitches, and I set thought of my food aside in order to lean in. “Little goddess?”
“Hm?” She scrolls on her phone screen and grimaces at whatever she finds.
I clear my throat. “Do you, perchance, also have an unhealthy attachment to Brian Single?” Every.
Last. Freaking. Woman. I knew growing up was head over heels for that guy.
And for why?? I never quite knew. He was a blond kid obsessed with mail.
Kind, sure. Outgoing, fine. But blond . Has his hair since darkened minutely, appearing light brown in the winter season?
Sure. Is he by any means tall, dark, and handsome ? No.
He’s shorter than me, by a comparable margin. And I know I’m not one to speak, but the shoulders? Mid. They are mid. Basic. Vanilla . If he weren’t moving packages all day, they’d be pathetic, I’m positive. Since he is moving packages all day…they aren’t pathetic exactly…but…that’s not important.
He’s still five-foot-ten, and that is the hill I will die on.
Ceres is staring at me by the time I pull out of my inner monologue.
She remains staring at me a full minute beyond my thought rampage.
Her eyes narrow.
She says, “Do I have an unhealthy attachment to… Amelia’s Brian?”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. She said that in the same way Brian said Jove’s Lyra . We’re the soulmates, not them. I might half-squeak my response of, “Mhm.”
Holding burning eye contact, she stabs a chip into her cheese and crunches it. “He’s basically the blond prince option in a reverse harem anime. The Tamaki in the world of Ouran.” Her gaze returns to her phone as relief swarms me.
“You’re more of a Hikaru fan, aren’t you?” AKA, the mischievous troublemaker archetype.
Ceres puffs a scoff. “Um. No. It’s been a minute since I’ve seen the show. I like the big one.”
My heart sinks. Feeble, I say, “Kyoya?” The taciturn smart one? With the questionable moral code in that one episode where he maybe pins the female lead to a bed?
Ceres cuts her fingers through her fiery waves. “Mori, I think.”
Ah.
Cool.
The…tall, dark, silent protector character.
The Jovey .
That’s fine. Totally fine. I’m not worried about it at all .
“Ceres?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you like my brother?”
“Jupiter?”
I twitch. “ Jove . Yes. Him. I only have one brother.”
She finishes her nachos and locks her phone to meet my eyes. “Yeah. Why?”
My poor heart shatters…noticeably before I could get my darling Ceres written into my will.
Ahaha.
Darn.
“No…reason.”
She crumples her trash. “’Kay? I’ll see if I can book the fairgrounds online later today, then I’ll see if online is also an option where it concerns applying for the permits we need. Try to get ahead on next week’s tasks and all that. Sound good?”
“Great.”
“Cool.” She rises. “Ready to go? I have a client I’d like to follow up with before it gets too late.”
Gathering my own trash, including a few remaining nachos, I commit a heinous crime and throw them away, along with my hope.