Overnight Wife(40)

She tilts her head back, a sly smile on her lips. “Who would have guessed?” she murmurs. “An accidental marriage between two strangers could turn into true love.”

“And yet here we are.” I smile and lean in to kiss her again, softer and slower this time, taking my time to enjoy her. I’m already starting to swell again, just at the sensation of her hands wrapped around my neck, her body pressed to mine. But it’s more than just attraction or lust. It’s happiness.

I’ve never felt this way before. Not even with Heather, back when I thought I knew what love was. This blows every other woman I’ve dated, every other love I’ve experienced, out of the water. The woman who caught my eye in that club in Las Vegas; the wild party girl who was willing to run away to the chapel with me, drunk and exhilarated and just looking to celebrate her new lease on life, the new job she was about to plunge into… She turned out to be the perfect woman for me.

The woman I never knew I’d been waiting for, all along.

When she nestles into my arms, her head resting on my chest, letting out a sigh of sheer pleasure, that’s when I know. I will do anything to make her exactly as happy as she is right now, for the rest of our lives.

This is it for me. She’s it.





13





Mara





A calendar alert reminds me of something I’d almost forgotten in the whirlwind of the last week with John. Our deadline to annul is coming up. Two days. That’s all I have left to change my mind about this. To step off the crazy train and declare our marriage null and void—before reality sets in, and this all becomes real. Our wedding, our marriage, everything.

But in a move that might be even more crazy than our marriage was in the first place… I don’t want to.

I want to stay with John. I want to give this a real shot.

So I close the reminder with a sigh and a smile, about to turn back to my work. I’m in the office early again, as usual, hard at work in the wood shop, awaiting the rest of my coworkers to arrive. I’ve started coming in earlier than I used to, mostly to avoid the stares when I first arrive, the judgment on everyone else’s face.

Daniel has finally started acting semi-normal around me again, saying—when I finally dared to ask what he thought about me and John—that he’d just been surprised by the secret, that was all. But pretty much everyone else acts cold as ice around me. And don’t even get me started on Bianca. I haven’t seen her face to face since the night John tracked me down the restaurant in a panic and told me she came on to him. I think—hope—that she’s embarrassed by her behavior. But who knows?

Ever since that night, she’s avoided the wood shop, stayed glued to her desk on the far side of the office, and dodges my glances, even going so far as to pretend to be on the phone anytime I’m within her vicinity.

I tell myself I don’t care. That I’ll get used to it. That my other colleagues will come around when we work together longer and they realize I’m dedicated to this job; that I didn’t just sleep my way into it. But for now… it rankles, I won’t lie.

It’s the only wrinkle in the otherwise shockingly perfect fabric of this life John and I have unexpectedly started together. When it’s just us together, or out with friends… the rest of the bullshit fades away. It’s just us, and I know this is right. It feels right, in a way I’ve never experienced before. In a way that makes me never want to let go.

I shake myself with a start, realizing that I’m just staring at my phone calendar daydreaming. But it’s when I shake myself out of it that my gaze lands on the date again. Double check it. Triple check.

My stomach does a backflip. Fuck. Is that the date?

My heart starts to hammer faster, my earlier thoughts forgotten as I tap on another app I installed a while back, a tracker, one I added just out of curiosity. Now, though, it’s coming in handy.

I check the dates again, do the math, and swear once more under my breath, softly.

I’m late. My period is late.

I swallow hard, wracking my brain. I take birth control, but I’m not exactly the best at sticking to strict schedules, especially since I’ve been working so much. Sometimes I take it in the mornings, sometimes in the evenings… John and I stopped using condoms since the two of us are definitely exclusive. But it never even occurred to me to worry about anything happening.

I’d been so focused on work, on figuring out what we wanted to happen with our marriage, that I didn’t even think about anything more practical.

My stomach churns, unsettled. It’s almost 9am, almost time for my coworkers to arrive. The last thing I want to face right now is anybody else walking in on me in the midst of figuring out this revelation. I grab my cell phone and beeline out of the office, waiting until I’m safely away from the entrance in the parking lot to dial.

Lea picks up on the second ring, sounding groggy. “Who is this early bird and what has she done with my best friend?” she grumbles into the line.

“I’m late,” I say, without any other greeting. “My period, it’s late.”

There’s a long beat of silence, followed by shuffling, the crumple of sheets. Lea crawling out of bed, most likely. Her bartending gig means that she works late nights and usually doesn’t rise before the crack of noon. I feel a little guilty for waking her this early, but any guilt is overshadowed by my growing worry.