Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Hey, B. What’s up?” Dex asked when he answered the phone.
You mean other than calling you while sitting on my couch with orange fingers from the bag of Cheetos I’ve been stuffing my face with?
It felt odd being in her own house instead of Linc’s, but her mom had gone back to Louisiana, so she’d come here rather than going immediately back to his place.
It was Saturday, which meant he’d probably be home, and she didn’t feel like she could face him yet.
She was still emotional from her mini meltdown at the dress shop this morning, and she knew he’d want to know what was wrong.
And right now, she didn’t know what to tell him.
Hence hiding out in her house mainlining cheese puffs.
It was getting harder and harder to keep deceiving their friends about their marriage.
Even though she felt like she might lose it if she didn’t talk to someone, she didn't want it to be Linc. Not now. Not while she was feeling so confused and the majority of it had to do with him. Still, she needed to talk to someone, and she trusted Dex above everyone else. She knew he wouldn’t say anything to anyone if she asked him not to.
He wasn’t only her brother; he was also her emotional support dog in human form.
She always felt better after talking to him, and she really needed to feel better.
“Do you have time to talk?” she asked once Dex answered the phone. “I know you’re at work.”
“My next appointment isn’t for twenty minutes. What’s up?”
“I have to talk to you about something,” she began carefully—shit, she was shaking—“but I don’t want you to get mad.”
“Okay.” He drew out the word, like he wasn’t sure if he’d agreed to something illegal or not. “I promise I won’t get mad. Are you alright?”
How did she answer that?
“I’m not hurt, or in danger, or anything, if that helps. I’m just freaking out.”
“Are you pregnant?”
“What? No! Why does everyone keep assuming I’m pregnant?”
“Who’s everyone?”
“It doesn’t matter!”
“Okay, calm down. I’m sorry I asked. Wait. Are you crying?”
Yes! Again. That's all I seem to be doing today.
“I’m so confused, Dex.” Sniffing, she looked around her family room like a box of tissues would magically appear.
It didn’t. She wasn’t keen on moving from cheese puff central, so she snatched the hand towel she’d left on the coffee table and swiped it under her nose.
Gross, but laziness had left her no other choice. She could wash it later.
“About what?” The deep baritone of his voice acted like a lightning vest against the storm of her emotions. She wasn’t fully calm, but it helped her at least be able to continue.
“Promise you won’t say anything to anyone?” she asked, wiping her nose with the towel again. Still gross, but better than using her sleeve, right? Plus, the shirt she was wearing was sleeveless, so there was that.
“B, I never talk about stuff you ask me not to. You know that.”
“I know, but…”
“I promise. Better?”
She let out a shaky breath. “Yes. Thank you.”
“What’s going on?”
“Um…” Damn, this was harder than she’d thought it would be. “So, you know how Linc and I got married?”
“You mean when you got married without telling me first? Me. Your favorite brother who you don’t keep secrets from? Yeah, I seem to recall that.”
They didn’t. This was the first time she’d ever lied to him. Well, lied by omission. “Never mind.”
“Don’t hang up,” he ordered. “I’m sorry. What about your marriage?”
“We were drunk,” she blurted, unable to lie to him any longer. She stared at the towel in her hand as if it held the secrets to the universe. Like it kept him from seeing her, even though he was on the other end of the line, not sitting next to her.
“I figured.”
She nearly dropped the phone. “What?”
“Give me some credit, B,” he scoffed. “I saw the picture. Momma may not know what you look like when you’re hammered, but I do.”
“God, I’m so embarrassed.” Yet, oddly relieved that someone knew the truth. “I barely remember that night.”
“What about Linc?”
“Him either.”
“Wow. You guys really were skunked.”
“Do you hate me?”
“Why would I hate you?”
Why?
“Because I drunk-married my best friend.”
Lord, that sounds horrible spoken aloud!
It only took two seconds before Dex dropped the bomb. “They say you don’t do anything when you’re drunk you wouldn’t do sober.”
She nearly choked on her own spit. “What?”
“You heard me. Are you going to lie again and tell me you’re not in love with him?”
“I…” The denial died on her tongue. This was Dex. He’d see through her in a second. In fact, she could practically hear his smug grin through the line.
“Thought not.”
“What do I do?” she asked, chewing on her thumb.
“Stay married.”
“Oh, gee, why didn’t I think of that?” Too bad it wasn’t that simple. “But what if?—”
“He does.”
Her pulse was thumping like a bass drum in her head, the sound reverberating in her ears.
“Trust me,” Dex said.
“But…”
“Trust me,” he repeated. “I’ve known him almost as long as you have, remember? And I have an outsider’s view. You may not have noticed he acts differently around you, but I have.”
“How does he act differently?”
“He goes over and above for you, B.”
“That’s just who he is,” she countered. “He’s nice to everyone, not just me.”
Thinking back, she couldn’t remember a time when Linc hadn’t gone out of his way to do sweet things for her.
Everything from taking it upon himself to mow her lawn after she’d sprained her ankle due to the rude awakening of finding out she could not, in fact, still roller skate like she used to when she was little, to letting her pick the movies they watched, to allowing Maisie into his home. But was that over and above?
“There’s nice and then there’s nice.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, last time I saw him, he sure as hell didn’t look at me like I was his last meal. You, on the other hand…” Dex made a sound that had her picturing him doing a little shimmy shake, as if he was trying to dislodge the image. “That’s something I don’t need to think about.”
But she was certain she’d never stop thinking about it.
“I’ll make it simple. Do you want a divorce?” It was a point-blank question. No wiggle room around a yes or no response.
The answer sprang from her mouth before she could even think of stopping it. “No.”
“I bet he doesn’t either. Problem solved.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is.”
“No, it’s not!”
Is it?
“Why not?”
“Because!”
“Riveting argument, B.”
She half-moaned, half-growled in frustration. Marge Simpson would’ve been proud.
“Explain what’s so complicated.”
“I told him I signed the divorce papers,” she confessed, her stomach knotting at the thought.
“Did you?”
“No, but....”
“Still don’t see a problem,” Dex said.
“Did you miss the part where I told him I’d signed?”
“Did you forget the part where you told me you didn’t?” he countered.
“No, but I told him I did.”
“So what? That’s easily fixed with a simple conversation.”
She hated when he was logical.
“What are you so afraid of, B?”
Of losing our friendship. Of losing… him.
“What if you’re wrong, and he really does want a divorce?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Then you get a divorce.”
Dammit. Now she was tearing up.
“But I guarantee you, he doesn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. But neither do you until you ask him.”
She let out a pathetic little groaning sound. “You know, sometimes you’re really annoying.”
“When I’m right?”
God, she hated admitting he was right, especially when he sounded so cocky.
“Maybe.” She was glad they were on the phone, so she didn’t have to be subjected to the smile that was undoubtedly overtaking his face. The one that made his eyes sparkle and women within a three-mile radius break out in spontaneous hot flashes.
“So,” Dex began, smugness personified. “All the time then.”