16. Chapter 16
Mackenzie
I ’m not usually nervous before a performance, but knowing Tal is going to be here watching a dance my teacher and I choreographed to a song I’ve dedicated to him in my head?
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
What if he hates it? What if he doesn’t think I’m good enough? What if he hates my costume? The song choice? That it isn’t as complicated as the other dances?
I don’t think I’m bad at dancing, but my body isn’t as flexible as some of the other girls on my team, and sometimes it feels like I’m not good enough because of it.
I run my hands over the lavender halter dress. The skirt flows out from my hips and looks lovely in my spins, and the color pops against my skin. My hair is pulled back in a half-bun, curled, and hairsprayed within an inch of its life.
I feel pretty. But will he think I am? Mom always says to dress for yourself and not for anyone else, but I can't help it. I want Tal to think I’m beautiful .
The song the six-year-olds are dancing to ends, and the audience claps, bringing the nerves back with a vengeance.
I walk to the center of the stage and strike my opening pose, then the music—Boyce Avenue’s cover of “Teenage Dream” — begins, and I let the music take over as I perform the routine that’s embedded itself into my muscles, thinking about Talmage the entire time.
I’m getting married today.
Fuck, I’m getting married today. To Talmage fucking Monson.
Since he left the Sunday he told his family we were getting married, we’ve seen each other in person at least twice a week and text every day.
It’s been…
Nice.
Except for my poor heart. She’s been through the wringer. Every time he texts, she beats a little faster. My stomach hasn’t fared any better with the way it gets tied up in knots when he’s around or the way the butterflies take flight when he looks at me with his warm grin and kissable lips.
Telling him we shouldn’t kiss because it’ll blur the lines was the smart thing to do, and yet… I find myself regretting it more often than not. I find myself thinking just once. One hit, so I can memorize the feel of his mouth. To learn the way he kisses now.
It’s obvious he’s gained some experience since we last kissed.
I can’t stand to think about it, though.
Knowing some other woman has felt his lips makes me want to stomp my feet and throw a tantrum.
I’ve kissed other people, had sex with other people.
He was engaged, of course he’s kissed other people.
We’re going to have to kiss today. That’s what you do on your wedding day, it would be weird if we didn’t.
It would raise too many questions from the twins and his friends, and I don’t have a valid excuse not to do it.
I’ve been mentally psyching myself up all day.
Thank God no one will ever know whether or not we consummate our marriage because if we had to…
I would simply pass away.
I would not survive making love to Talmage Monson. No, no, no.
My body, though? She wants it—wants him. The first time he came over in his Springville FD T-shirt, contoured to the subtle bulge of his muscles on his arms and the expanse of his chest…
I’m deeply ashamed to admit my vibrator got a workout that night, imagining what those arms would feel like caging me in.
Imagining what his mustache would feel like tickling the dimpled skin of my inner thighs.
I want to feel the rough calluses of his fingers tracing the sensitive peaks of my nipples.
Yeah, I’m fucked. Maybe not literally but metaphorically for sure.
It’s three hours before our appointment, and I’m sitting on a kitchen stool while Lizzie twists a curling iron around my hair and Kinsley and Harper chatter away about… something .
I wish I could pay more attention. But all my brain power is trying to wrap my head around the fact I’m marrying the first boy I ever loved—probably the only boy I’ve ever truly loved.
How did I get to this point? What am I doing? Is this a huge mistake? Is it worth it to—
“Earth to Mack!” Lizzie’s fingers snap in front of my face, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry. Zoned out. What’s up?”
Lizzie’s hot pink painted lips turn down into a frown. “You don’t seem like a joyous bride today, babe. What’s up?”
I look pointedly at my twin sisters, hoping Lizzie can understand my unspoken message of “not in front of them.”
“All right, twinsies. I need to have an adult chat with your sister. Go… get dressed or something. No eavesdropping.” Lizzie points at each girl individually.
Harper nods and scurries off to her room, while Kinsley rolls her eyes. “You’re not the boss of me. And I’m almost an adult! I should be included.”
“Three years does not almost an adult make, Kinny-poo. Unless you want to hear all about how sloppy of a kisser Talmage is then—”
“EEEW, okay, I’m going. Gross. Keep that shit to yourself.” Kinsley covers her ears and runs out of the kitchen.
Lizzie turns back to me with a triumphant grin. “All right, Mack, spill it.”
I chew on my bottom lip. I’m glad Lizzie knows this is all fake. I don’t know how I’d explain my anxious mood otherwise .
“Am I making a huge mistake? I mean, Tal’s relationship with his parents is ruined, and he’s really not getting anything out of this. I’m already starting to get attached to him, and I feel so selfish—”
Lizzie holds up a hand. “Nope. Gonna stop you right there. You’re not selfish. You’ve been working your ass off to make ends meet so Harper can have the medicine she needs to live . It’s not selfish to accept the help offered to you.”
“But a whole-ass marriage? ”
“Marriage is a piece of paper. It’s a social construct and an institution rooted in control. But I don’t think that’s what you’ll be entering into with Talmage because he doesn’t seem to have a controlling bone in his body.
“Besides, we live in a no-fault state. You can divorce him for whatever reason at any time, and no one will think less of you. Well, okay, that’s not true because society is still misogynistic, and Tal is a hot man with an honorable career, so people might judge you for not staying with him, but if it’s not making you happy then you have options.
You said once you find a job with better benefits, you can divorce him, right?
” I nod. “So you’re not stuck. Tal’s a big boy who can make his own decisions.
He wants to marry you. So take the help and accept this is what he wants. ”
“You’re right, you’re right. I need to believe he knows what he’s doing.” I take a deep breath—in for a count of four, out for six—and give Lizzie a small smirk. “It’s not like it’ll be a hardship for me to be with him. He’s pretty easy on the eyes.”
She barks out a laugh. “Talk about a glow-up. He’s a far cry from the boy who used to wear knee-high socks with his cargo shorts and long sleeves under his dad’s button ups.”
A genuine smile spreads across my face when I think about teenage Tal and his lack of fashion sense. His quirky style was one of the things I loved about him. He didn’t care what other people thought about him, and I found it admirable.
I didn’t mind the knee-high socks and cargo shorts, just like I don’t mind the muscles and tight T-shirts now.
“My mom would like that I’m marrying him.
He was always one of her favorites.” I’ve been feeling a deep sense of devastation that my parents won’t be here.
I always pictured my dad walking me down the aisle and my mom sobbing into a tissue as I said my vows.
I pictured her here to help me get ready and give me advice about marriage.
Their marriage had its ups and downs, I’m sure, but I don’t ever remember them fighting.
They were always hugging or holding hands, so in love, even twenty years in.
I used to be disgusted by their blatant affection, but I miss it now.
“I know you wish they were here. I’m sorry they’re missing this. If it helps, I know they’d be so fucking proud of you.”
I hope that’s true. “Thanks, Liz. We should get my makeup on before I start crying.”
“On it! Let’s make you into the most beautiful blushing bride.”