Nine
T HREE WEEKS LATER, I wake up in Dan’s bed when my alarm sounds.
Often I wake up just before it’s supposed to sound, but I slept all the way through this morning. The high-pitched sound is startling and grating.
With a grumble, I reach over to the nightstand to turn it off.
“Mornin’,” Dan murmurs from beside me.
I’ve been basically living with Dan since we returned from Vegas. I haven’t moved all my stuff out of the Emersons’ place for real because it’s a lot of work when the marriage will be over in just a few weeks, but otherwise we’ve been acting like the married couple we’re supposed to be.
I like it. A lot. It’s felt intimate and domestic spending most of my time over here and sleeping beside him every evening.
“Hey, sorry about that.” I have to get up at five forty-five every weekday morning, but Dan doesn’t have to wake up nearly so early. I hate when I fail to catch my alarm and wake him up.
“No worries.” He’s been lying on his back, and he turns his head to smile over at me. “I’ve been half-awake for a few minutes now.”
“Oh, well you should try to doze off again and get a little more sleep. It’s ridiculous to get up at the crack of dawn if you don’t have to.”
“I’m known for doing ridiculous things, you know.” His smile is even softer now. Teasing.
I’m deeply tempted to crawl over and kiss him, but I don’t. For one, there’s the fearful possibility of morning breath. For another, I don’t have time. But I return his smile as I say, “Like paying a girl to marry you?”
“Exactly that.”
With great effort, I resist his adorableness and heft myself out of bed to go to the bathroom. When I come out, Dan hasn’t gone back to sleep. He’s lying under the covers reading his phone.
He’s frowning.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing really.”
I don’t take a shower until after I walk Oscar in the mornings, so instead, I grab clean panties, a T-shirt, and shorts to pull on. “It looks like it’s something.”
He shakes his head as he glances down at his phone. “Just a weird text. From a coworker.”
“What does it say?”
He extends his phone to show me, so I walk over in my panties and T-shirt to take it from him. Peering down at the screen, I start to frown too.
What the hell?
Who sent this to him?
It says, Hey there, hope you have a good night! The words are followed by two kissy emoji.
The time indicates it was sent just after midnight last night. The contact’s name is Carla K.
Dan and I went to bed fairly early last night—at around nine thirty—so we’d have time to have sex and still get plenty of sleep.
“That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” Dan asks, his eyes wide and guileless as he looks up at me. “Just to randomly send that to me at midnight?”
I sit on the edge of the bed and scroll up to see the other texts Carla has sent him in the past. Some of them are clearly work related. Any communication Dan initiated is perfectly professional. But some of hers are out of line for work colleagues. She told him he looks good in a certain color shirt. More than once, she asked if he had any plans for the weekend. And at one point she greets him by texting, Hey, handsome .
“She’s into you,” I say, glancing back at him.
He makes a reluctant face. “You think so?”
“Yes! It’s obvious. She’s trying to get something going with you, and the only reason she hasn’t pursued it more is because you haven’t given her any encouragement.”
“I always thought she was kind of awkward and annoying but was trying to be nice.”
“She’s trying to be a lot more than nice.” I feel ridiculously possessive—offended that some random chick is trying to make a play for my husband—but I rein in the feelings because they’re irrational. “Doesn’t she know you’re married?”
“I don’t actually know. I wear my ring, of course, and a few people have asked about it. But I don’t share much about my personal life at work, and I’ve never actually mentioned getting married to Carla.”
“Oh, she noticed the ring. No question about that. It doesn’t stop some people, and for others it actually makes them more interested.” I shake my head, trying not to cast unfair judgment on a woman I’ve never met. After all, who can blame her for being interested in someone as cute and sweet and lovable as Dan?
But if she knows he’s married, she has no business flirting with him.
“So what should I do?” He looks sincerely uncomfortable about the situation. Genuinely hoping I can help him.
My heart warms and melts at his trust in me.
“I can tell her to stop, I guess. I don’t like creating personal tension at work, but I’ll do it if I have to.”
“You might have to, but maybe because you never talk about having a wife and she’s never seen you with anyone, she doesn’t think about it as real. What if...?” I trail off because I’m suddenly nervous about the suggestion. Maybe it’s overstepping.
“What if what?”
“What if I bring you by lunch or something today? We can act all lovey-dovey and make sure she sees us together. That would be enough to stop a lot of women. And if it doesn’t stop her, you’ll have to say something directly.”
He perks up visibly. “Okay, sure. That sounds like a great idea. You really don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re fine with me showing up like that when you try to keep things only professional at work.”
“I don’t mind at all. Just let me know what time you’re coming, and I’ll make sure to be hanging out where she can see us. Then I can introduce you.”
“Perfect.” I check the time and jump to my feet, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “I’ve got to hurry, or I’ll be late for Oscar. I’ll text you later with my plans.”
“Sounds good. Have a great morning!”
Both of us are smiling as I put on my shoes and run out the door.
***
I SHOW UP AT DAN’S office at 12:40 later that day, carrying a bag from a local sandwich shop and wearing a cute blue sundress and my nicest sandals.
I even wore some makeup and used a flat iron on my hair to get it perfectly sleek and shiny.
Dan works in a large office building on the outskirts of Green Valley. I’ve never been there before, of course, and I’m a little nervous about finding him. But there are signs pointing to the office suite for his company, and then a friendly receptionist directs me once I enter the suite.
I texted him when I was in the parking lot so he’d know I’m on my way up. As promised, he’s hanging out in a common area near several open office doors, chatting with a couple of other people.
“Hey, Vicky,” he calls out when he sees me, his face transforming in a kind of awed joy that takes my breath away.
My returning smile is no doubt rather sappy, but I have no idea how I can help it. And, after all, that’s what we’re supposed to be doing here anyway.
Proving to Carla and the rest of Dan’s colleagues that we’re desperately in love.
Dan meets me as I approach and leans down to kiss me—longer than a normal kiss of greeting. He takes the bag out of my hand and looks me up and down. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” I’m blushing, but that’s only appropriate. “I don’t need to stay long. I don’t want to distract you from work.”
“It’s fine. I’m on my lunch break. Let me introduce you to some folks.” His voice is a little louder now, clearly bringing the others into the conversation.
I come over, still flushed and smiling, as he introduces me to the three other people Dan was talking to. None of them are Carla, but they’re all friendly and curious and perfectly nice.
Then Dan takes a step toward an open office door. “Hey, Carla, do you want to meet my wife?” He takes my hand to gently pull me over to him. “This is Vicky.”
Carla is probably around thirty. She’s a reasonably attractive redhead, and she pastes on a fake smile as she comes out from behind her desk. “Hey there. Nice to meet you. Dan is so secretive about his personal life that we sometimes wonder if you actually exist.”
“I do,” I say.
At the exact same time, Dan says, “She does.”
We laugh and smile at each other, and Dan leans down to kiss me again. I let him for several seconds before I pull away.
That should clearly get the point across. There’s no reason to rub it in and be cruel.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer,” I say, glancing at my phone as if I’m checking the time. “But I have an appointment at one thirty, so I better run. It was nice to meet you all.” I make sure my smile takes in Carla and then the others I’ve met.
Dan walks with me downstairs and to my car. He’s clearly laughing internally.
“Poor thing,” I say, trying to extend my empathy even though I still resent the fact she was making a play for my man. “She might have really been into you.”
“I never gave her any reason to. I promise I never flirted with her.”
“I know. But you’re a really nice guy. And an incredibly good-looking man. That’s enough to get someone interested.”
“Incredibly good-looking, am I?” He looks way too pleased by the compliment.
I giggle. “Now your ego is way ridiculously inflated.” I stretch up on tiptoe to give him another quick peck before I get into my car. “Okay. I really do need to go. I’ve got hungry dogs waiting for me.”
He grabs me to kiss me once more before I sit down behind the steering wheel. Then he closes the car door for me and watches as I pull out of the parking spot and drive away.
***
I ’M IN A GOOD MOOD for the rest of the day.
A very good mood.
Not even once for the past few weeks has Dan mentioned the impending end of marriage. Not once has he acted like our relationship is anything but real.
He made it clear in Las Vegas that he didn’t want a one-night stand with me, and we’ve been having sex and behaving like a real couple ever since.
So maybe that’s what we are.
It’s what I want. No question about that. I’ve fallen for him all the way, despite all my warnings to myself. But it doesn’t feel as dangerous to me as it did before.
If we’re together for real, then I’m allowed to be crazy about him. It’s not wrong for me to feel this way.
According to our initial agreement, we will stay married for a month and then get the marriage dissolved, so by that timeline, we only have one week left. It would make sense for me to actually bring up the topic so I know whether he’s intending to go forward with our plan, but I’ve still been too scared. There’s always a chance that things won’t be what I’m hoping they’ll be, and then I’ll be utterly crushed.
Sure, it might be better to know that now, but it would take a surge of courage I don’t presently feel capable of.
Dan hasn’t mentioned it either. If he wanted to clarify things, surely he would have.
So maybe we’re both simply enjoying how things are right now and don’t want to dampen it by defining it.
It does make me a little nervous, but most of the time I’m too happy to care.
I go through my normal afternoon schedule, relieved I don’t have any extra duties this week. I finish up on Thursdays at four thirty, so I have time to drop by Jim and Esther’s to pick up more clothes and chat with them before I return to Dan’s and fix some simple fish tacos for our dinner.
After we eat, Dan asks if I want to go downtown and get some dessert.
I have absolutely no reason to object to that plan.
We have a great time, splitting a cupcake and then wandering around some of the cute shops and boutiques, strolling the sidewalk hand in hand.
Anyone seeing us would assume we’re a real couple.
It feels to me like that’s what we are.
Surely it feels that way to Dan too.
Maybe I should just bring it up. Get it out in the open. Calm the lingering questions in my mind.
Next week will be the prescheduled end of our marriage and our agreement. It’s lurking there in my mind like a warning.
I open my mouth a couple of times to initiate the conversation, but that jittery fear keeps closing my throat.
Dan appears to be having a great evening. He’s smiling and relaxed and affectionate. After a while, he nods toward the coffee shop. “Looks like some of the others are there. You want to go say hi?”
“Sure. That sounds good.” I’m happy to hang out with his friends. I like them a lot.
I’ve never had any sort of real social circle before, and it’s really nice.
We cross the street and go into the coffee shop, where we’re greeted by several people sitting at a large table. Paige with Chase standing behind her. Joey and Carlton. Julianna and Rafe. And a very pretty blond woman I’ve never met before.
Dan pulls out a chair for me and then heads to the counter to order my green tea and whatever he’s planning to drink. Chase goes over to take his order while the others welcome me warmly.
I’m answering their questions about my day when Dan comes over and wordlessly hands me his phone. Something is tense and bristly in him.
I read the text on his screen. From Carla.
Hey handsome, meeting Vicky today made me giggle. She’s very cute and besotted.
I stiffen in response. “You’re going to have to be direct.”
He nods, his jaw clenched. He’s clearly not happy about the text Carla sent him, and I can’t help but be gratified that his response feels defensive and protective. On my behalf. He taps out a reply and then hands the phone back to me before he sends it.
I’m in love with my wife, and I prefer to keep work relationships professional. Please don’t send these kinds of texts to me again.
I nod and hand the phone back. “That sounds good.”
He hits Send and returns to the counter to wait for our drinks.
I turn back to the table to see a number of curious eyes. “He’s having trouble with a coworker,” I explain. “She keeps trying to start something up, and she doesn’t seem to care that he’s married.”
There’s some interested and sympathetic conversation. Then Carlton, who is evidently a good guy but clearly not an expert in social niceties, mutters wryly, “She’s not too smart, is she? Should’ve tried to shoot her shot when he was actively looking.”
Confused by the comment, I ask, “What do you mean?”
Carlton appears confused by my confusion. “Just that her timing is off. She should have made her move when he was asking everyone and their sister to marry him a while back. He probably would have taken her up on it.”
Something heavy drops onto my heart. It slams down like a sledgehammer. “What?”
“Before. When he was looking all over for a wife and asking everyone. Joey and Paige and—”
He stops abruptly because of what looks like a little kick Joey gives him under the table. Carlton appears more confused than ever and also rather offended. “What? Everyone knows, don’t they? Was it supposed to be a secret?”
Everyone didn’t know.
I didn’t know.
In fact, he lied to me about it, confirming that I was the first person he asked to marry him. Made it seem like he picked me out special. And if he didn’t directly lie, he purposefully gave me a false impression.
But from the concerned and uncomfortable expressions on the faces of the others at the table, it’s clear that all of them knew what I didn’t.
Dan evidently spent a significant amount of time—months at least—asking every woman he knows to marry him. Including at least two of the women sitting around the table right now.
And it was only at the very end of his list of possibilities that he asked me.
I naturally knew he wasn’t really into me when he asked me to go through with our fake engagement and marriage, but I thought he asked me particularly. I thought he picked me out.
I thought he chose me.
Me.
I didn’t know he ran through the alphabet and eventually landed on my name, lucking out by finding someone as desperate as me.
I’m so upset and humiliated that I can’t speak. Can barely breathe. My throat has completely closed up. My cheeks are burning, and I’m trapped by the onrush of painful emotions.
Dan comes back to the table just then, placing my green tea in front of me and then taking the empty seat on my left. He drapes a casual arm on the back of my chair and frowns around the table. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“No,” I manage to say. “Nothing’s wrong. What are the rest of you up to today?”
Joey is usually the social master of this group, but she’s still giving her clueless husband a frustrated glare. But Paige jumps into the lurch to talk about a quilter she just found and made a connection with for her business, and everyone else gratefully moves on to the new subject.
Dan recognizes something is off. I can barely participate in the conversation. At one point, he leans over and murmurs in my ear, “What’s the matter?”
I shrug off the question and discreetly pull away from him. I don’t want him to touch me at the moment.
I want to go back to a few minutes ago when I didn’t know what I know now.
***
W E ONLY STAY ABOUT forty minutes, but it’s far too long as far as I’m concerned. Every second of trying desperately to not completely fall apart is painful. Torture. And I feel both relieved and doomed when I finally escape everyone else’s company.
But I haven’t escaped from Dan.
He’s right beside me, and he keeps giving me confused and worried looks.
He makes it until we get into his car when he bursts out, “What the hell is going on?” His tone is frustrated but not mean.
I shrink away from it anyway because the faint helplessness I hear in his voice makes me want to cry.
“Vicky, please. You’ve got to tell me what happened. Why have you been about to cry for almost an hour now? What happened while I was getting our drinks?”
“Nothing happened,” I manage to force out.
“Don’t lie to me. I know something happened, and I need to know what it is right now. Did someone say something to upset you? Did someone hurt your feelings?”
“N-no.”
“Then what the hell is it?”
I breathe raspily, still struggling to hold back the tears that are burning in my eyes.
Dan has turned on the car but not put it into drive yet. He shifts in his seat to face me. “Vicky, tell me. I’m going crazy here. Tell me right now!”
I take a few more breaths until my throat relaxes enough to get a few words out. “It’s really not a big deal.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem to tell me. But if it makes you cry, then it’s a big damn deal to me.”
He means it. I can hear that he means it.
But maybe I’ve never really known him. Maybe I’ve misinterpreted everything.
Maybe I’ve never been special to him. Just the one woman who was willing to go through with his ridiculous plan.
That thought makes a sob tighten in my throat. I try to swallow over it, but a weird gurgle of sound comes out anyway.
“Vicky, please,” he whispers hoarsely, reaching over to cup my cheek.
I jerk my head away from his touch. I can’t bear it. Not right now.
He looks as hurt and surprised as if I’d slapped him.
I can suddenly speak. “I told you it’s nothing big. Carlton mentioned that you went around asking every woman you know to marry you.”
Dan blinks. Freezes. I can see the words process on his face. “Why... why would he say that to you?”
“Because he assumed it wasn’t a secret. He assumed I already knew. He wasn’t trying to be mean or anything. He just didn’t know.”
“He shouldn’t have—”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s just kind of embarrassing. To me.”
Dan still looks half-frozen, but there’s a bleak, confused frown beginning to darken his face. “Embarrassing?”
“Of course. Being last choice is always embarrassing, but it’s not a big deal.”
“You were never—”
“I clearly was last choice. But I understood what this thing was from the beginning, so I have no reason to take it personally. I just thought you only asked me and not everyone else before me. I just didn’t realize...” I choke on however I was planning to finish that sentence.
“Vicky, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be a secret. I was just... I wanted to get access to my trust fund, and getting married was—”
“The only way to do it.” My voice is unnaturally cold. Shrill. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you understand at all. You wouldn’t be so upset if you understood. At least let me explain what really happened.”
Despite everything—despite all the ways my heart has been trampled in the past hour—there’s a little sliver of hope remaining. Maybe he did start out thinking of me as his last choice, but his feelings could have changed the way mine have.
He’s been acting like I’m more to him than that.
Maybe I am.
“Okay,” I reply in a gurgle, unable to meet his eyes. “You can explain.”
“I... I...” He makes a weird choking sound. His face twists, and he turns his head away.
He can’t explain.
He has nothing to say to make this better.
I suddenly remember what he’s told me about his previous relationships. He’d throw himself into them, hoping that they’d work, that they’d be real, but then he’d get into an argument or a roadblock, and that was when he’d realize it wasn’t worth the effort of overcoming it.
That’s where we are right now. We’re at the roadblock.
The first real one.
And instead of trying to get past it, instead of opening himself up and being vulnerable so he can explain things to me, he’s sitting there stiff and tense and silent.
Silent.
And I know. I know everything. I know exactly what this means.
Whatever he thought he was feeling with me simply isn’t strong enough.
“Okay,” I mumble, clicking on my seat belt. “I get it. Can you please drive me over to Jim and Esther’s?”
“Wh-what?” The one word is broken and hoarse.
“Please drive me over there. I’ll stop by your place and get my stuff tomorrow.” I have to hug my arms to my middle to keep from trembling violently. “But right now I want to go home.”