8. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Tanner
T he wedding was a lot of fun, even if dancing with Vic was a sweet kind of torture, having her so close and not really being with her.
We’d made plans to get together after work today to go out to my place. Vic offered to drive, which works out since I rarely drive in. She texts me at 5pm exactly, letting me know she’s in the Sterling underground parking lot and doesn’t want to come up. I assume because she doesn’t want to run into Richard. I meet her down there and get into her sleek, black Mercedes.
As soon as I get comfortable on the buttery leather seat, I start to feel self-conscious. Vic comes from money. She drives a Mercedes. She owns a condo in the West End of downtown Vancouver—one of the most expensive neighbourhoods in one of the most expensive cities in the country. And I’m taking her to my old, tiny apartment way out in the sticks.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
I don’t hesitate when I answer, trying to feign indifference. “Mission.”
I feel her gaze on me, the shock. “That’s a pretty far commute,” she says after pulling out of the garage and into traffic.
I shrug. “It’s not terrible. I’m close to the train and take it in every morning. I don’t have to deal with traffic and I’m close to family.” It’s the explanation I offer to everyone when they ask why I live so far away from the office. Everyone takes me at my word, often assuming I own a huge house in the boonies, because why else would I choose to live out there?
Only because of years of concentrated effort in controlling my reactions do I manage to keep my knee from bouncing in agitation the closer we get to my home. Vic fills the silence by talking about wedding plans. She offers to take me to the new Blue Vista location, but I decline.
“I’ve seen your downtown spot, Vic,” I say. “The level of quality you guys expect is phenomenal. Though, I was thinking about it and that’s probably another way to explain why we’re getting married so quickly. You want to get married at Blue Vista, but it’s booked solid, isn’t it?”
“It is if we want a summer wedding,” she confirms.
“Except August first. So our options would be that day or two years from now and we would rather get married early. When you know, you know, right?”
She smiles. “That’s a perfect explanation. All four of us plan to get married at Blue Vista. Though Adalie and Nate aren’t engaged yet.”
“Of course that’s your plan. Your venue is possibly the hottest in the city. Why would you want to get married anywhere else?”
Her smile grows and I feel like I’ve said the right thing, even though I just told the truth. As she drives, we discuss the guest list and agree to keep it on the smaller side, not more than a hundred people, less if we can swing it. Some might think a hundred is a big wedding, but when you have Vic’s family on one side wanting to invite every business associate to show off, and my family on the other and the sheer number of them, a hundred invites adds up quick. I ask if she wants a child-free wedding or if my nieces and nephews can come and she says she assumed I would want them there and asks if Wyatt’s kids would be okay for the flower girl and ring bearer.
We discuss food choices and cake options and by the time we reach my apartment, we have most of the details planned. It’s easy since Blue Vista has a list of preferred vendors they work with.
“I’ll talk to Spencer tonight or tomorrow about this,” Vic says. “He’ll take care of everything. There might be an extra cost since some of it will be a rush, but I can take care of it.”
“So can I,” I say. “Whatever you need for the wedding, I want to pay for half.”
She meets my eyes. “Good. Because I won’t be taking money from my parents. My father may have put all this into motion, but he doesn’t get to control any of it.”
I nod.
Vic gets out of the car, and I take the moment alone to breathe deeply and compose myself before I also get out. Vic is staring up at the ugly yellow building. It’s squat and long and the deck railings are in dire need of cleaning and some new paint. The building itself could use a pressure wash.
“This is where you live?” Vic asks.
“Yes.” I unlock the front door and let her inside. “The elevator is pretty slow. I usually take the stairs.”
“Lead the way.”
We climb to the third floor in silence. Then I lead her to my apartment and open the door. Once inside, she looks around. “It’s… cozy.”
I sigh as I take my shoes off, and she removes hers as well. “Tell me what you’re really thinking, Vic.”
She glances at me, but I guess she sees that I mean it, so she shrugs. “I think it’s small, which is fine since you’re just one person and I doubt you’re here much, anyway. It’s old. I would guess the building is around fifty to seventy years old, and it looks its age. But you also keep it clean. Everything in here seems to be put away where it belongs. Your floors are clean. Your walls are clean. You have no dishwasher, but the only dishes I can see in your kitchen are clean ones in your drying rack. It may be old, but you take care of it.”
I’m glad she can see that. She’s right. The building is at least fifty years old. And the apartment is tiny. But I’m strict about keeping it clean and fixing anything as soon as it breaks. Or contacting building maintenance to do it if it’s something beyond my abilities.
“What I don’t understand,” she continues, “is why you live here. I know how much my dad pays his employees, and you’re at the top. You must be making six figures a year.”
I nod.
“So why do you live in this tiny, old apartment?”
“It’s walking distance to the train,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “And why do you live in Mission? You work in Vancouver. How long is the train ride?”
“I get on it at 5:55 and I’m in Vancouver by 7:10.”
“Do you like making that commute every day?”
I shrug. “It is what it is.”
She takes a seat at my dining table, gesturing for me to sit across from her. “I’m trying to understand, Tanner. You make enough money. Why don’t you live closer to work? If you like living in Mission—close to family, as you said—why didn’t you buy a newer place? Or buy any place? Why are you renting this tiny, run-down apartment? Do you have debt? I normally wouldn’t pry, but we’re getting married . I need to know.”
“I don’t have any debt,” I say. That’s one thing I am proud of. My student loans are completely paid off. I pay the balance on my credit cards every month. I don’t own anything worth more than a few thousand dollars, including my car, so I can pay for everything in cash if I want something.
Vic takes a breath when I don’t say anymore. “You just said you would pay for half the wedding. You have savings?”
“I do. Quite a lot, actually.”
“What are you saving for?”
“I’m not saving for anything,” I say. I take my glasses off and rub my face, a gesture I normally wouldn’t allow myself, but this is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. “I never mentioned how I grew up, did I?”
Vic shakes her head.
I take a breath and put my glasses back on, clasping my hands in front of me. It was easier when I couldn’t see her clearly, but I refuse to take the easy way out on this. She’s going to be my wife. She needs to understand.
“I have four older siblings,” I begin. “And my parents really should have stopped at one. They couldn’t afford to have five kids. In fact, Mom wanted to stop after Wyatt. When she got pregnant with me, Keith, my other brother, told me she was pissed. He liked to rub it in that I wasn’t wanted.”
“That’s terrible.”
I shrug. “That’s siblings. Especially siblings like Keith. Anyway, I grew up poor. Like dirt poor. Like, not believing in Santa Claus when I was four because he didn’t bring me any presents, poor. We moved a lot, finding new places that cost a little less, then losing that place because the owner decided to sell. We did our grocery shopping at the Food Bank. I never had anything new. We were homeless twice. Thankfully not on-the-street homeless, but living-with-aunts-and-uncles homeless. It was still scary.”
I unclasp my hands because my knuckles are starting to hurt from clenching so hard. Vic places her hand over one of mine and I turn it around, allowing our fingers to lace together.
“Two of my oldest siblings have managed to claw their way into middle class—my sisters, Brooke and Harper. Wyatt and I are doing better than them. We made a deal when we were kids that we would be rich when we grew up. Wyatt is so smart. He’s a tech genius and has an amazing job because of it. I went into business. I make great money. And I… don’t spend any of it. I have this weird fear that if I spend money on myself, suddenly I’ll stop making it and I’ll fall back into that place I was in when I was a kid.”
“But you bought me a ring.”
I laugh, but it’s humourless. “I can buy things for other people just fine. I bought my parents a house—well, apartment. And I’m paying for my nieces’ and nephews’ post secondary. Two of them have taken me up on it so far, but I expect Juliet, Rebecca, and Jaxon to as well. I think Jax wants to go into the trades.” I shake my head because what my nephew is planning to do with his future isn’t relevant right now. “I helped pay for things for them, like winter clothes and school supplies. When one of my siblings was short on rent or grocery money, I’ve helped them out. But I’ve never been able to buy things for myself. It seems… frivolous.”
I run my free hand through my hair before covering our linked fingers with it. “That’s the main reason I’m still with Sterling. The fear. Richard hasn’t been an easy person to work for, but if I leave, where will I go? What will I do? How will I continue to support myself and my family?”
Vic squeezes my hand. “Why is it your responsibility to support them?”
I shrug. “I have the money. I can. I don’t have any dependents. Everyone else has all these kids. I’m just me.”
“You’re a good man, Tanner. It’s admirable that you want to help your family. But a lot of what you just described, it stops today.”
My eyes shoot up to hers. “Excuse me?”
She looks sympathetic, but resolved. “We’re going to be married, Tanner. Yes, we’re going to have a prenup and what you have now will remain yours and vice versa. But going forward, our finances will be combined. Your siblings and your parents are grown adults. They are responsible for their own actions. I’m not going to stop you from helping your nieces and nephews. Helping them pay for college or trade school is great. If they need something as important as winter clothes or school supplies, we can discuss it. But their parents should be taking care of them. Not you.”
I expect to feel resentful at this, that she’s forcing me to take a step back from my role in the family as the one who keeps everyone afloat. Instead, I’m overwhelmed by a dizzying sense of relief, and I release a breath, my shoulders relaxing as though a literal weight has been lifted from them.
That’s when I know I’m in trouble. Obviously, from the moment Richard came up with this insane idea, I knew I would want the marriage to continue. I’ve wanted Vic since the first second I laid eyes on her. I’ve had a crush on her since about two seconds after that. By the end of our MBA program, I was in love with her, and during the years apart, being connected to her through Richard has allowed me to understand how she’s grown into her role as business owner and overall badass woman which has only made me admire her more. But this moment is the first one that I’ve realized how much it’s going to hurt if—and when—our marriage ends.
I look down to where our hands are still clasped on the table and draw my thumb over her knuckles. “Vic, maybe we should talk about our relationship.”
She unlinks our fingers, sliding her hand back across the table toward herself, drawing in. It hurts, but it’s probably for the best.
“What about our relationship?” she asks.
“Spencer made a good point last week. We’re attracted to each other. We’re going to be married for at least a year. We won’t be seeing anyone else. We’ll be married. We already know we’re compatible.”
“We won’t be having sex, Tanner.” Her voice is firm and resolute.
I meet her eyes. “I agree it would be a bad idea. Throwing sex into this, and all the endorphins that come with it, is probably a recipe for disaster. I’m not saying we should try it. I’m saying there’s a possibility, after a while, one or both of us is going to change our minds about how much of a bad idea it is. What happens then?”
She looks down at her hands, then back up at me. “I don’t know, Tanner. Maybe that’s something we can decide later? When it happens?”
I appreciate that she says when and not if . If I could be sure she wouldn’t cut me out again, I’d take her to bed right now. But if we sleep together and she ghosts me again, I’m not sure I could survive it a second time.
“We can decide later,” I say, putting off the inevitable. “For now, let’s take a look around the apartment. Tell me what you think I should do with my things.”