Chapter 9
Peyton
“Ooof. Another penalty?” I bite my nails watching the final minutes of the game I recorded earlier.
I had to prepare for my meeting with Zane and Willow and couldn’t watch it earlier.
He’ll be home any minute, but I really wanted to watch this game.
It just felt like something I should do.
At least watch one of his games as his wife.
Even still, I had to record this one which makes it feel a little less real.. Kind of like our marriage. How fitting.
“That’s not like him at all. His game is off.” Wren takes a sip of her mojito. “You sure it has nothing to do with the wedding?”
“Shoot. I hope not.” But of course, that’s my worst fear.
Wendell took on too much by taking me on as a burden when he didn’t even have to, and the guilt I’m feeling is suffocating.
I can’t imagine the frustration I’ve caused him.
“Thanks for being here though.” I didn’t want to be alone when Wendell came home today, almost like I needed a buffer—or a booster—to do what I’m about to do.
It’s for the best. Watching his game confirms it.
“What’s that look for?” I ask her since she hasn’t put down her drink and she’s just eyeing me over the rim of her glass.
“Nothing.” She pushes the glass in the air to dismiss me. “I just saw you two together. I saw how he looked at you.”
I snort. “At the wedding.”
“Ya, well, nothing looked fake about it.” Not able to hold it in due to the course of action I have to take now, I had to tell her everything tonight.
“Are you serious? Did you see the kiss he gave me?”
“I bet that’s not the only kiss he gave you.” With a shit eating grin, she points her glass at my face. “Aha! Your cheeks say it all. You guys totally fucked.”
“Fine. We…fucked.” Though it didn’t just feel like fucking to me.
“Are you sure about this then?” She gestures to the papers on the table. “Maybe you should give this a shot?”
“Wren, it’s a fake marriage. He was just helping me out. We’re friends—” Even as I say the word, I taste the bittersweetness of it.
“Friends make the best lovers.”
I feel that in the depths of my soul, but based on the morning after and the burden of regret on Wendell’s face, I know what I have to do. He deserves real love. Not this fake sham of a marriage.
The buzzer goes on the game. “Thank God they still won despite Wendell’s penalties.
I’d hate to be you delivering this news to a guy who lost two guys.
” Wren makes her way into the kitchen to drop off her glass and pulls her phone out to order herself a ride home.
“I should take off.” But something in her face changes drastically. My magic moon beam friend is scowling.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t even have words.” Staring at her phone, she turns it so I can see. “I think I’m getting evicted.”
“What?”
“Ya. My roommates are kicking me out.”
“Oh shit. You can stay with us.”
Deadpanned, she says, “You’ve got enough going on. They’re giving me forty-eight hours. If I don’t figure it out by then, I’ll call you.”
At the moment, the door swings open and Wendell trudges in. He takes one look at us, one look at the TV, and then drops his bag in the front hall.
“Gonna shower.” His eyes meet mine, and I feel a tug to go to him, but I don’t.
Instead, I see Wren out the door and wait quietly for Wendell back in the living room. My knees are shaking incessantly by the time he comes out. His hair is wet and his chest must still be a bit damp because his T-shirt outlines his chest muscles perfectly.
“I know you said to wait until you got back, but I really don’t want to be any more of a burden than I am.” I nudge the papers on the coffee table toward him. “I’ve taken care of everything. Don’t worry. You just have to sign them.”
Weary eyes meet mine, and I keep rambling. “I tried for an annulment, but in Alberta apparently, since we…um…consummate the marriage, a divorce is simpler.”
“Is this what you want?”
His question stuns me. So caught off guard, I fumble in my reply. “You’re willing to do so much for me, Wendell. Too much. I’m not your problem anymore.”
“You’re never a problem, Peyton.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, like someone’s trying to shake some sense into me. But I can’t tell him how I really feel. That I love him for real. He’s already sacrificed so much for me, and if he felt any way about me, he would have let me know.
A long pause drones on as we sit there, both taking turns to stare at the papers and then back at each other.
“Is this what you want?” he asks again, this time his eyes pin me in place.
“You just asked me that.”
“But you didn’t really answer, did you?”
“What?”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“Why are you doing this, Wendell?” I blink. Once. Hard.
“Because,” he scoots over to me, “I don’t think this is what you want.”
I cringe. Somehow he knows how I feel. Did I let something slip the other night while we made love? Ugh. I’m such a sappy idiot that I have to hide by dropping my head into my hands. This guy would really do anything for me.
“It’s okay, Peyton.” His hand rubs my lower back. “I’ve been struggling for two days.” He lets out an unamused laugh cough. “In case you couldn’t tell by my games. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with you. I finally got my chance with you and it’s over before it began.”
There’s that word again. Finally.
His eyes are penetrating now. “I’m gonna say something that might change everything, Peyton. But I can’t take the risk of not saying it. I hope you can forgive me.”
Safe to say my heart is lodged in my throat and mosquitoes are quenching their thirst on my rapidly flowing blood.
“I want to stay married.”
“You do?”
“Ya. I’ve loved you for a really long time, and I want a shot at getting you to fall for me.”
That’s it. The tears drop down my cheeks like barrels crashing over a waterfall. “You do?” I squeak out.
“I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear—”
I throw myself at him. “I do, too.”
“You do?”
“Ya. I really do.” My face buries itself in his neck while I squeeze the life out of him. “I love you, too, Wendell.”
“Fuck, that makes me so happy, Peyton.”
His mouth latches onto my neck and paints its way up to my lips. My body is dripping with love for him, and at the same time is soaking up the love he has for me. We’re just one big sopping mess.
And I can’t wait to take it to the bedroom.
For the rest of our married lives.