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The phone pulls enough battery to turn on, and the chime of a voicemail sounds immediately. It’s my mother, telling me to call her right away. I’m in the process of calling her back when the phone rings in my hand. Not shockingly, it’s her.
“Hey, Mom.”
She doesn’t sound pleased. “Why didn’t you answer before? I left you a couple of messages.”
“Sorry,” I say through a bite of cereal. “My phone died. It just came back on.”
“You know what I’ve said about keeping your phone charged.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I know, Mom. I just fell asleep last night without plugging it in.”
“Well, all right. How are you holding up?”
“Surprisingly okay,” I say. I married one of the richest men in the world while I was blackout drunk, and he doesn’t want an annulment, oh, and he’s scorchingly hot. It’s tempting to tell her just to see how she would react. “The girls and I had a really good time, and I think it was a good idea that we went. To…you know, get my mind off of things.”
“So you’re back in the city?”
“Yes.” I’m wary now. My mother rarely asks where I am unless she has somewhere she wants me to be, and the tone in her voice tells me that she’s about to ask for something.
“I was wondering if you could come out to the island this afternoon to help with the party?”
I shake my head, trying to remember if I was told about a party or if that’s another thing that was swallowed up by my night of drunken madness. “What party?” My mother is silent, and my stomach drops. It’s not a good silence. “Mom, what party?”
“Laura didn’t call you?” Her voice is unnaturally high and tight, like she’s trying to remain calm.
I cover my eyes with my hand. “No, Laura didn’t call me. What exactly is this party?”
“It’s all very last minute,” my mother says, flustered. “It’s Laura’s engagement party.”
I feel sick. I feel physically ill. I try to keep my voice smooth and even. “Laura is engaged. To Wyatt?”
“Yes. I know it’s not fair of me to ask you to help, but it’s so last minute that I didn’t have time to hire any caterers. I could really use you as backup, sweetie. But I understand if you don’t want to.”
Unexpected tears come to my eyes. It’s been what …three weeks …and Wyatt proposed to my sister? I haven’t seen him since he left. I still have the ring he gave me in a box on the shelf. I haven’t even had a chance to give it back to him. This is so fucked up and so unfair. How am I supposed to go to this party and be happy for her when the two of them basically threw a box of explosives into my life?
But then again, do I really have a right to be angry about this? The suddenness of it? I just got married overnight and no one of my family knows. I don’t exactly have a leg to stand on when it comes to sudden and permanent attachments.
Fuck it. I am angry. I’m angry that he left. I’m angry that he’s with Laura. But beneath that pulsing river of ever-present anger that’s been there since it happened, there’s another thought. If it was so easy for Wyatt to leave me, then he couldn’t have been happy, and we wouldn’t have been happy after we married. And the more I see everything for what it was, I don’t think we were ever happy. If he makes Laura happy, I can get over it. I can. Well, I can try. I swallow my anger and my confusion and I clear my throat. “I’ll come.”
“Are you sure, sweetie?”
“Yeah,” I say, though my voice sounds like I’m being strangled. “Besides, it’ll give me a chance to give him back the ring.”
My mother makes a sound of disapproval. “You know this isn’t the way I would have liked it to turn out, but I can honestly say that I haven’t seen Laura this happy. Ever.”
I sigh. “Well, I guess that’s good. What time should I be there?”
“Two would be good. It’ll give us some time to get ready before everyone gets here.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.” I let out another sigh as I hang up. The things you do for family. Not only will I have to see Wyatt. And Laura. And them together. But I’ll have to see everyone who was at my engagement party six months ago. This is going to go perfectly, I can just tell. I try to pull myself together—I brush my teeth and change out of the dress and into comfortable sweats that I can relax in until I get ready for the party. But I’m not comfortable. Everything here reminds me of the past. There’s the little dish that holds my rings that Wyatt bought for me at a street fair. There’s the photo of us in Ireland when we went on a spontaneous getaway. There’s the spot on the floor where we had sex after Wyatt asked me to marry him.
Now he’s engaged to my sister. Who the fuck does something like that? What kind of person do you have to be to utterly destroy someone in that fashion? I need a distraction. Now. And I find one in my husband. I go back to reading articles about Wilcox. Wilcox Andrew.
It’s around noon when there’s a knock on my door. I unfold myself from my position on the couch, set my laptop on the coffee table and stretch as I head over to the door. I open it, expecting the mailman or a neighbor, but instead find Wilcox Andrew Herrington in my doorway as if he magically stepped out from my laptop screen and the articles I’ve been reading about him all morning. Jeans and a henly have never looked so good.
“You’re here,” I say, kind of shocked.
He smiles, and my stomach does that pleasant flip-flop that I now associate with him. “I’m here. I realized that we never exchanged phone numbers. So I asked Simon where he dropped you off. Is that all right?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I mean, I can’t believe we forgot something like that, but yeah, come in.”
I stand to the side and let him step into the apartment, suddenly aware that I’m wearing ratty sweats and that I haven’t actually cleaned my apartment in a while. “Umm…yeah. I haven’t cleaned, sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. I’ll just be right back.”
Will catches my hand and pulls me close, so that my back is pressed to his chest. “Let me guess,” he says playfully, “you were going to change.”
I laugh, and it feels good after this morning’s revelation, even if the whole thing makes me anxious. “Guilty as charged.”
“I don’t care about what you wear,” Will says, “even if you do look damn good in high heels. I surprised you, there’s no reason for you to change.”
“Okay,” I say, still self-conscious and now blushing.
He lets me go and takes a few more steps into the space. “I like this,” he says. “It has that New York charm.”
“You mean old and broken down?” I smirk.
“No, more like it’s been lived in. It has a history.”
“I can see that.”
He spots my laptop, and unfortunately, the article that’s still on the screen that details the transfer of power between him and his father. “A little light reading?”
Ducking my head, I make sure to find my toe nail polish interesting. “You might say that.”
Will appears at my side and guides me to the couch like this is his apartment and he’s the host. He sits us down at a comfortable distance from each other. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“That’s not true. You can barely look me in the eye. Did something happen?”
He’s not wrong, I can’t bring myself to look at him. Because the shame of Laura and Wyatt is too much, and because I know he’ll be understanding and want to fix it, and there’s nothing he can do. “Yeah, I have to go out to my parents’ house this afternoon and help with my sister’s engagement party.”
Even though I’m not looking at him, I feel his body go utterly still. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yep,” I say lightly. “All very last minute, according to my mother.”
“I’m really sorry,” he says, taking my hand.
I nod. “Yeah, it really fucking sucks. It’s not like I want him back, I don’t. But seeing him with my sister …”
Will tugs on my hand, and the idea of physical comfort is too good to ignore. I let him put his arms around me and pull me close. I can suddenly breathe easier, and even through my relief I’m amazed that I could come to rely on someone that quickly. “You know,” he says playfully, “it’s good I’m not the jealous type.”
“Yes, it is,” I say in the same tone, “because he was the jealous type, and it’s really not a good look.”
“So you’re saying I’m better looking?”
I burst out laughing. “That’s what you took from that?”
“I’ll take any compliments I can get from my wife.” I don’t have a comeback for that. “Does it make you uncomfortable for me to call you that?”
“Surprisingly, no. It’s just a little weird. I’m not used to it. Not sure I want to be used to it. You have no idea how much you confuse me, Will.”
He stands, taking me with him so I’m cradled in his arms. “You don’t confuse me,” he says fiercely. We’re in the bedroom before I can blink and we fall back onto my bed, sprawled together, limbs tangled. I’m the one who kisses him first. God, his lips. They’re my favorite part of him, and given how perfect the rest of him is, that’s saying a lot.
“I don’t have much time,” I say. “I have to get dressed and head out to the island soon.”
I recognize the smirk as he rolls over me. “I don’t need a lot of time to make you come.”
He kisses me again, his hand sliding down my stomach and under my waistband to find where I’m already wet for him. The affect he has on my body is like fire and gasoline. No matter how little we touch, it’s always ready to explode. I gasp against his lips as he slips a finger inside me, curling it towards my G-spot. I can’t say I really paid attention to his hands, but I’m appreciating just how big they are now with his fingers reaching exactly where I need them.
Will quickly adds a second finger, stroking against that tiny spot that feels like tendrils of pleasure are reaching out through my body. “Oh my god.” It comes out as a groan, quickly stifled by Will’s lips. His tongue plunges into my mouth in time with his fingers and my body is already starting to shake. I won’t last long, and he’s making absolutely sure of it.
His thumb comes to rest on my clit, and now he’s both inside and outside me, and pleasure breaks through me in an explosion. I moan into Will’s mouth, my pussy gripping his fingers as he continues to fuck me with them. I can’t breathe because the pleasure is constricting my lungs. My breath comes in heaving gasps as he eases his fingers out of me, sending off aftershocks like tiny fireworks. Will’s forehead is pressed against mine, and when I can see again, his eyes are smiling.
“You are way too good at that,” I say.
“I don’t think there’s such a thing as too good at that.”
He has a point. I reach for his belt, ready to reciprocate, and he catches my hand. “Not now, you have to get ready.”
“Are you sure?” I glance down to where I can see his erection obviously pressing against his jeans.
“I’ve lived with worse,” he chuckles. “I wanted you to relax, to feel good, not to stress you out because you’re going to be late.”
I pull his face to mine and kiss him, thanking him without words. He’s right, I would have been anxious to be late, even if the party is kind of a horror show. I make myself sit up get off the bed, though the thought of staying in bed with him is the more appealing one. “I want to come with you to the party,” Will says, as I start to dig around my closet for something to wear.
I freeze. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s everyone I know and everyone will be looking at me since I was engaged to this same guy six months ago.”
He smiles, and I try to ignore how natural he looks lounging on my bed. “All the more reason for someone to have your back.”
“I know I can’t lecture Laura on the speed of her engagement because of this,” I gesture in between us, “but I’m not sure adding a new husband to the mix is the best idea here.”
Will stands and closes the space between us, pressing me back against the wall so I can feel all of his body and how hard he still is. “You’re wrong,” he says. “Sure, people might react, but if we’re together, no one will be able to pity you, or look down at you, or say anything to you but congratulations.” He kisses me softly, then harder, and I melt into him.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re using my body against me.”
He smirks. “I do what I have to.”
“You still haven’t given me a straight answer about why you want this. Why you want this to work out so badly.”
“Maybe I’m in love with you,” he says lightly. Then he presses his hips into mine. “I’m definitely in lust with you. And the truth is somewhere in between. All I know is I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
“Fine,” I roll my eyes and ignore the fluttering in my chest at his words.
“I’ll meet you there. I can’t show up to your sister’s party in jeans.” He looks down, where my tank top has fallen off my shoulder and he has a perfect view of my cleavage. “And if I don’t leave now, I may change my mind about not making you late.”
He’s so close, so overwhelming, that I almost beg him to break that promise. But he steps away, taking my phone and adding his number to it. “Text me the address?”
“I will.”
He takes my hand and kisses it—I wonder if that will always be something he does—before he leaves. I pick up my phone after I hear the door click shut, and search it for brand new contacts. He didn’t add his name, simply one word: husband. My stomach does that little flip-flop, and there’s a quiet voice in my head that says this whole marriage thing may not be so bad.
7
I think I’m going to throw up and I haven’t even had anything to drink yet. I arrange some fruit on a plate and place it on the buffet table in the backyard. Laura and Wyatt are supposed to show up any second, and I can feel the ring burning a hole in my pocket. I need to give it back to him, I don’t want to keep it. I need closure, but I also really, really don’t want to see him. I’m torn what to do when it happens. Cry, ask him why, and grab one of the forks to stab his eyes out. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, really.
Guests are milling around and it’s been nothing but a parade of awkward hellos and sympathies and condolences and well wishes. No one really knows what to say to me, which I suppose really isn’t their fault. It’s awkward all around. I don’t even know what to say half the time.
My mother appears with the last plate of finger food and touches me on the arm. “You all right?”
I nod, subtly hiding my left hand from her. I thought about taking my new ring off before the party, but I didn’t want to. Having it there is comforting, like some kind of shield. Even if this goes badly, I know that Will is going to be behind me, ready to catch me. It’s a strange feeling, being able to rely on someone so quickly and so completely. With Wyatt, I always knew that I had to fend for myself.
How did I let myself get to this place with him? In the two days I’ve been with Will it’s become really clear that my relationship with Wyatt wasn’t a healthy one.
I hear car doors slamming in front of the house and I let out a sigh. It’s going to happen sooner or later. Mom leans in and gives me a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
“Yeah,” I say weakly. “We’ll see.”
I follow her into the house as the front door opens, and Laura enters. She looks great, tan from her time in Mexico and a blinding smile on her face. Following her is Wyatt, with a smile that I know all too well. I used to think that he saved that smile only for me. Laura is the first to spot me. “Sandy!” She rushes over to me and wraps me in a giant hug. “I’m so happy you’re here. I thought you might not come because it’s just a tad awkward,” she makes a face. “But I’m so happy to see you!”
I feel hollow inside. There’s no doubt that I love my siste
r, but this is more than just a bit awkward. Over her shoulder, Wyatt’s eyes are fixed on me. Laura stands back and looks between us. When we don’t speak, Laura nudges me. I clear my throat. “Hello, Wyatt.” Turns out that neither of my options work. I don’t think I could cry right now and there aren’t any forks in the immediate area.
“Good to see you, Sandy.”
The way he says it is so casual and so carefree, like we’re acquaintances meeting after a long time instead what actually happened. My mother steps in, pointing out back. “We’ve set up out there, if you want to take a look.”
“Perfect!” Laura grabs Wyatt’s hand and drags him out into the backyard and I sink against the wall.
“That went well,” my mother says in a sarcastic tone.
“Yeah.”
We stand in silence for a few second before I pull myself off the wall. “Mom, I think it’s time for wine.”
She smiles. “In the kitchen, dear.”
“That’s where I’ll be if you need me.”
I open the first bottle of white wine that I can find and pour myself a more than healthy glass. I make a silent promise to myself to drink less, but this occasion calls for it.
“For what it’s worth, I offered to beat him senseless.”
I jump, turning around. “Geeze, Dad. You scared the shit out of me.”
He chuckles. “I figured this would be the best place to hide. Guess I’m not alone in thinking that?” He raises his own glass of red.
“I don’t know what we’re toasting to.”
“Survival?” It makes me smile a little, and he goes one. “I don’t like this whole thing. I have heard stories about it happening, but when it actually happens, it’s a lot less romantic and a lot messier. How are you holding up?”
“Fine, Dad. I’m fine. I brought the ring to give back to him, so hopefully that will be that.” I run my hand through my hair, and I see my Dad glance at my hand. Shit. I still haven’t figured out the best way to explain to him or anyone what’s going on.
