The Lie(94)
“Yeah,” she says. “I think I’m proud of me too.” She stares back at the door, a symbol of another life, and sighs. “You know I meant it too. I won’t hold a grudge. I’ve seen what it can do to a person.”
“Let’s get you to your new place,” I say and we head down the stairs, pack up the rest of the stuff, and drive off into the night.
***
Later that night there’s a pile of boxes in my drawing room, a dog snoring on the couch and the woman I love lying in my arms. Inside her is a new life, a new beginning, a new chance.
Outside her is a man who loves her more than he can even understand.
And outside us both is a world that keeps spinning, a mad world capable of bringing us to our knees and yet never ceases to be beautiful.
EPILOGUE
Natasha
Six Months Later
“Got everything?” Brigs asks, eying me in the mirror as he adjusts his bow-tie.
The man looks disarmingly handsome in a tuxedo and I have to take a moment to drink him in like lemonade on a hot day.
Of course this makes him stare right back at me, shaking his head. “I can’t get over how beautiful you look,” he says, voice rich and low, all the emotions of the last six months just simmering beneath the surface.
I roll my eyes. “You mean despite the fact that I’m a waddling pregnant woman,” I tell him, looking down at my belly. Thank god this wedding dress is empire-waisted and kind of camouflages my bump. What it doesn’t camouflage is the fact that my body has turned on me and turned into a fat, bloated monster with an insatiable appetite. You know those pregnant women who you can’t tell if they’re pregnant or not if you’re looking at them from behind? Yeah, that’s not me. My ass has only gotten wider, not to mention all the other parts of me. Shopping for clothes has become extremely depressing, so I just schlep about in leggings and baggy sweaters.
Of course the dress is absolutely beautiful and I’m so glad I don’t look too horrid. My hair is half up with some height to balance out my lower half, though my roots are coming in like crazy since I can’t dye my hair anymore. Or have caffeine. Or drink alcohol. Or enjoy sushi. Or, you know, life.
It might sound like I’m not enjoying being pregnant and I guess that’s kind of true. I know it’s nature’s miracle and all that bullshit but honestly, I’m a sweaty, foggy-headed insomniac now whose hands look like they belong on a Cabbage Patch Kid doll. I just want Ramona (yes, named after my literary heroine, Ramona Quimby – only fair since Brigs would have named him Sherlock if he was a boy) to be born already so I can see her cute face and see which of us she’ll resemble. If she could have my boobs and Brigs’ eyes, she’ll win at life.
Unfortunately, being pregnant has also made me horny as hell. Brigs doesn’t seem to mind and neither do I. I mean, I get to f*ck him all day so there are no complaints there and even though I feel like a fat, flabby mess, he’s turned on all the time. He even makes me feel beautiful – at least he tries. It’s hard to feel gorgeous when your thighs look like cottage cheese but luckily my hormones don’t care if I’m self-conscious or not.
Even now as we’re getting ready to leave, the sight of him in his tuxedo makes my stomach ignite with heat, my legs pressing together to try and relieve the pressure. The only problem is, we don’t have much time before we hop in the Aston Martin and drive to Hyde Park for the ceremony.
The truth is, Brigs and I applied for our marriage license two weeks ago. We didn’t tell anyone. Everyone – his family, even my family – thinks we’re going to have a big wedding in the fall. But really, it just wasn’t sitting well with either of us. The minute we announced we were engaged, it was like everyone in his family turned into characters from an episode of Bridezilla. With Lachlan and Kayla getting married in the summer, and those plans in full swing, including all of her friends and their cousins in the States coming over, Brigs and I felt like things were getting out of hand. It stopped feeling like it was about the two of us and we wanted to keep that feeling.
So we decided to elope. Or elope as much as you can in the UK. This ain’t Vegas. We went to the register and applied for the license, then just yesterday went back and said our vows officially.
Today though, we’re having an actual ceremony – it’s not legal, but since we’re already technically married, it’s just for our own sake. It’s just us, Winter, Shelly the dog walker, and Max the bartender, officiating. Who knew the grizzled drink slinger was a celebrant?
I know that all our families will probably be disappointed and hurt by us doing this on our own, but they’ll thank us later when that’s one less wedding to worry about. Besides, there’s a baby on the way and that’s taking up enough of their time and energy as it is. It’s taking up my time and energy and I’m still going to school on top of it.
Plus, we’ve hired a great photographer to capture the moment and will have a big party next week when we go back up to Edinburgh. For our honeymoon we’ll take the train down to Marseilles to see my father and I’m hoping once the baby is born, we can fly my mother out here from LA. Even though we still don’t have the best relationship, we’re working on it. Being with Brigs has taught me that we have to make amends while we can and that second chances don’t come by often. Since I reached out to my mother, and she’s been reciprocating, I feel this is as good of a chance as any.