When I Was Yours(76)

My chest closes up, taking all my air with it.

I start to panic.

I feel trapped.

Because when you’ve held something in for as long as I have, keeping it a secret, it’s hard to let it out, to finally tell the truth.

Fear of the unknown keeps those words locked up tight inside of me.

I fear his reaction. I fear that he won’t see the rational side of what I did, that he’ll only see the betrayal.

I did what I had to back then, but will he see it that way?

My fear is that he won’t. And I don’t want to lose him.

But aren’t I going to lose him anyway?

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, I curl my fingers around the mattress, and I close my eyes, pushing more tears down my face. My lips are sealed tightly together as I contemplate.

But my silence is too long.

And he takes that as my answer.

Because when I open my eyes back up, he’s gone, and the bedroom door is swinging shut in his wake.

And this time, I don’t follow him.





“What about surfing?” I say, propping my feet up on the dashboard.

We’re driving back home from Vegas, in the final stretch of our journey, and we’re talking about Adam’s options now that he’s staying in Malibu because he’s, you know, my husband.

I stop the squeal of delight from slipping out.

“What about it?” Adam glances momentarily from the road to me.

“Well, you said before that, when you were younger, you wanted to be a pro surfer. And you’re good, Adam, really good. I know Grady would help you get started, get you talking to the right people. You could begin entering local competitions, start building up your name.”

I see his mind working as he stares at the road ahead.

“You really think I could do it?”

“I think you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“I’d have to work another job while I’m doing it ’cause the winnings would be small, if any at all.”

“I’m working full-time now, and I’ll be able to pick up extra shifts if I need to, so you don’t need to worry too much.”

Now school is over, I’m full-time at Grady’s, and I know if I ask Grady for extra shifts, he’ll work something out for me.

“My woman is not keeping me,” he says in a silly caveman voice. “I keep my woman.”

“You’re a tool!” I laugh.

“Yeah, but I’m your tool.”

“Yeah, you are,” I say softly, looking down at my ring.

I’ve spent a lot of time staring at my wedding ring since Adam put it on my finger two days ago.

After we got married, we stayed in Vegas the next day, a mini-honeymoon kind of thing. Adam wanted to spend the whole day in our hotel room, having sex, but I managed to get some clothes on him for a few hours, so we could do something. There’s not much to do in Vegas when you’re too young to gamble and drink, so we ended up going to Adventuredome, which was really fun. Then, after Adventuredome, we came back to the hotel. We ordered room service for dinner and spent the rest of the night in bed, having sex, lots of it—not that I’m complaining. I’ve also learned that calling Adam my husband gets him hard, like instantly. Got to say though, hearing him call me his wife turns me on just the same.

I glance up, seeing the sign for Malibu.

Almost home.

Almost time to tell Dad that I’m married.

My stomach twists into one big knot. I’m nervous as hell to tell Dad.

“What are you thinking about?” Adam asks me.

“Me, you, us. Telling Dad we got married.” I move my eyes to him.

“Does your dad have a gun?” He glances at me.

“No,” I answer, laughing.

“Good. I can take an ass-kicking, but there’s no coming back from a bullet wound.”

“He won’t kick your ass. He only has one good working arm, remember?”

He gives me a serious look. “You only need one arm to throw a punch, babe.”

“True.” I laugh again. “But I know my dad. He’s more of a lover than a fighter. I think he’ll probably be shocked. Then, he’ll be mad that I lied to him about where I was going. But I think once we get past the all of that, it’ll be okay.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince here, Adam or myself. “When were you thinking of telling your parents?” I ask him.

His lips twist, a frown appearing over his brows. “I’ll call Ava once we’ve told your dad.”

“You don’t want to go see her and your dad? Tell them face-to-face?”

“No. I have no desire to see either of them. Honestly, I have no clue where they are. But wherever it is, you can bet your ass, they definitely aren’t together. I’ll call Ava, tell her that we’re married and that I’m staying in Malibu with you. I’ll let her relay the message to Eric.”

“How do you think she’ll take it that you’re not going to Harvard?”

“Honestly, I don’t think she’ll give a shit about me not going to Harvard. That’s Eric’s thing. Always has been. All Gunners have to go to Harvard,” he says in a harder, deeper voice, mimicking his father. “Me not going to work at the studio? Ava won’t like that one bit. She and Eric both. But like I give a shit. I have you, and the rest can just go to hell.” He reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine.