16. Bliss
Bliss
Why did I say something about the L-word? I talked about Zane needing someone to love him while we were dancing. That’s not going to go over well with him if he actually thinks about it.
The logical conclusion is that his wife should love him.
And I’m his wife. When Zane first proposed, I told him that we weren’t friends. It was my last-ditch effort at guarding myself from heartbreak. But I’ve gone too far now. I’m his wife, and I’m casually throwing around the word ‘love.’
The drive back to Zane’s house is inordinately long. We don’t say a word the entire time, both of us relieved to be away from the crowd of people. The silence is peaceful besides me replaying every awkward word I said to Zane during our dance.
When I climb out of the truck, I nearly slam my dress train in the door. As I walk inside, I carefully hold my dress up to keep it from dragging in the gravel.
“Well, we did it,” I say as I climb the last step on the porch.
“We sure did,” he says with a laugh.
He reaches for the door, opens it, and gestures for me to go into the house first. I take a step forward, but then his arm shoots out, blocking the way.
“We can’t break tradition, not right after getting married.”
And before I have time to think about what he’s talking about, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me across the threshold.
I’m tired enough that I think it’s funny, and I cackle like a deranged hyena. He grins and starts laughing with me.
“Stop it. You’ll make me drop you.”
“That would be fun to explain to someone.”
He kicks the door closed behind us and carries me into the living room, then sets me down on my feet.
“Home sweet home,” he says with a smile.
The house seems quiet compared to the reception.
“I had a great time,” I say.
I realize I did have a great time at my wedding, and it didn’t even feel like I was getting married, which is strange, but it just seemed fun.
But now that we’re here, it seems odd to be in this house alone with him. I try to look anywhere but at him and end up staring down at the lace on the front of my dress. “It really is a pretty dress. Simple but elegant.”
“You looked gorgeous today,” Zane says, his voice gruff.
“Thank you. You looked very handsome, too.”
“I’m happy you had a good time,” he says.
“Yeah, I guess I’m surprised that I did,” I tell him. “Is that weird?”
“No,” he replies. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. It was a fun time, and I’m happy we got married in the barn. For us.”
“Did anyone ask you about where we’re going on a honeymoon?”
“Yeah, they did, and I told them that I wouldn’t tell them. Not in a million years.” He shudders. “My brother is notorious for pranks. I’d rather him not know we’re staying home.”
“Do you think they’ll come up here?”
“I don’t know why they would. They don’t need to know we never left and that the end of our honeymoon journey is here. For all they know, we’re in Hawaii.” He unbuttons the top of his shirt and pulls his tie loose.
“I’ve never been to Hawaii.” I reach back and unhook my veil from my hair.
“Neither have I.” Zane slips out of his jacket.
I bend down and take off my new red boots. I’ve got at least five blisters from all the dancing I did tonight. “Maybe we’ll just tell them the truth. That we decided to stay home and that we have a big trip planned for the future when we’re not as busy, workwise.”
Zane lets out a sigh. “The truth, I guess.”
“What do we do next?” I ask.
Zane’s eyebrows waggle up and down, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“We could get into something more comfortable and relax on the couch and watch some TV,” Zane suggests.
“Do you know what? That sounds great.”
“Okay, I just have to run out and check on a calf before I shower,” he says.
“Sounds good. I’ll get changed while you do that, but don’t be upset if you come back and I’ve already picked out a show.”
Zane grins.
He doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into. I should pick something horrible just for the fun of it, but I happen to like good movies. He’ll love whatever I pick—I’m sure of it.
Zane just shakes his head and walks down the hall toward the bedrooms.
I trail after him, my wedding dress dragging along the ground.
I walk into my room and close the door, breathing in the silence. I let out a long, deep breath and sink down onto the edge of the bed. I can hear some rustling in the room next door, and I realize I’m going to have to get used to this.
I’ll be living with my husband, and I don’t plan on leaving him.
I take a few more breaths to regulate my heartbeat. This isn’t something to be scared of. I trust Zane. I like Zane. And the scariest part is that I could maybe come to love Zane.
The door closes, and I hear him thump down the hallway. Then the front door closes too. Soon, I hear the four-wheeler fire up and drive away.
I stand up and walk to the closet. My sisters helped pack everything, but I was the one to set it up. I didn’t want to have to explain the two rooms to them.
Maybe I’ll feel more normal if I get out of my wedding dress, but it makes me sad thinking about climbing out of it because it’s the only time I’ll get to wear it.
I reach around to the back and fumble with the top clasp. I can’t quite reach it. I twist my arm the other way and try to unclasp it, but I can’t reach it from that angle either.
Well, this is one part of the plan I did not think of.
It took my mom, Belle, and Briar to get me buttoned up in the thing. It was not an easy task. If it took the three of them, I don’t think I can expect to get myself out of this on my own.
It would be a shame to cut myself out of the dress.
I could wait until I lost weight. But that also doesn’t seem like a good plan.
I jump up and down, trying to twist the dress around. It doesn’t budge. It is form-fitting, and there’s no moving it.
I can’t get out of the dress without ruining something.
So, I do what any sane bride would do. I walk out of my room and find the remote to the TV, then sit down on the couch.
I scroll through the various show options and almost watch a BBC drama just to torture Zane, but then I settle on a witty new mystery movie I’ve seen previews for.
The back door opens, and Zane walks into the house. He stops when he reaches the living room and looks at me sitting on the couch.
“What do you think? A mystery, or a reality TV show about a dramatic friendship?” I ask.
“Definitely the reality TV show. I need something mindless tonight. My brain is fried after I talked to so many people,” he says. Then he looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Are you comfortable in that dress?”
“Not exactly.”
“Okay, I guess I just assumed you’d be in something more comfortable by now …”
“I have a little bit of a problem, and I’m not sure how to solve it.” I stand up and turn my back to him.
A short laugh bursts from him. “I can see the problem.”
“I really can’t reach any buttons,” I tell him.
“Do you want me to help you?” he offers.
“I think so. Is that weird?” I ask quietly.
“No, I’m a professional unbuttoner.”
I don’t think about why that makes me jealous. And I definitely don’t want to think about what he’s been unbuttoning.
But he solves that train of thought for me.
“I’ve been wearing button-up shirts since I first started walking. I think I can handle a buttoned wedding dress.”
His footsteps come closer, and I bend down to grab the train and lift it to the side.
“This is such a beautiful dress. I hope you like it,” he tells me as he reaches for the top clasp.
His fingers brush against my back and shoot electricity down my spine. It takes a minute to get the top button, and then he reaches for the next one. The rest of them go a little quicker, and I stand perfectly still as his fingers gently graze my back.
This is not how I saw my wedding night going.
“I’m sorry you have to do this,” I mumble.
Maybe it would have been better to call Charlie.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he tells me. “It’s a wedding dress. You can’t stay in it forever, and I promise I’m not looking.”
He focuses on unbuttoning again. “Okay, well, that might’ve been a lie. I do have to look a little bit.”
He finally reaches the end and then unclasps the back of my bra.
“Okay, I even got the clip that goes in the back too,” he says.
I’m not about to tell him that clip was not part of the dress. I hold the front of everything tight against me as I turn to face him. “Thank you.”
I’m too embarrassed to meet his gaze, and I can feel how hot my cheeks are. I wait for him to say something or comment on my reaction.
Instead, he turns around and walks to the kitchen, banging around in there. “I thought for sure I had some popcorn stashed away somewhere,” he says. “I’ll get some made while you get changed.”
“That sounds great,” I reply as I hurry down the hall toward my bedroom.
Apparently, I was the only one affected by how close we were.
By the time I get back out to the living room, he’s already started the reality show, and he’s eating handfuls of popcorn. All in all, it’s not a bad night.