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No matter what, Dad won't like Joel. I'm not sure it's possible for my dad to like a guy I married in Vegas. But Dad will come around once he realizes how successful Joel is. How well Joel treats me. How much Joel…
Well, I guess I don't know if Joel loves me.
I can't blame him for his silence. It's not as if I'm getting any words off my tongue.
I contemplate my inability to open my mouth during our incredibly silent drive. There isn't much traffic and we aren't going far. The drive only takes ten minutes, maybe twenty, but it feels like hours pass.
My entire body is cold, numb.
Then we pull into the parking garage, hand the keys to the valet, and step into the elevator and my head starts spinning.
This is really happening.
In the next
hour.
Neither of us is stopping it.
Fuck.
The elevator is a tiny space. And Joel is sticking closer than necessary. His palm is still pressed against mine, his grip firm and steady.
There are no signs of nervousness in his posture or his expression.
He's a rock.
Or maybe this is what he wants.
Maybe he's looking forward to being done with this.
My eyes go to the sign on the wall.
Lux and Lawrence. Third floor. The green light flashes Lobby. Then Two. Three.
The mirrored doors slide open.
Joel nods to the lobby. "You ready?"
No, but this is as ready as I'm going to be. "Thank you."
My legs wobble as I step into the lobby. It's a beautiful office. The walls are cream with oak accents. The furniture is all brown and grey hues, much of it the same oak hue.
I would be lucky to work somewhere this beautiful. With these big windows. With all this light. With a view of the crystal blue waters of the marina and the ocean behind it.
Joel squeezes my hand. He leans in to whisper. "You okay?"
No. Definitely not. But I can't exactly be cuddling up and taking his comfort right now. I force myself to smile. "I will be." In theory.
His expression gets incredulous. Still, he moves towards the front desk.
His hand stays glued to mine.
"Chase and Young," he says.
"The divorce. Of course." The woman at the front desk tries to paste a smile on her face, but she keeps staring slack-jawed. Her gaze stays on our pressed together hands, even as she presses the intercom. "Chase and Young are here."
Our names sound good together. Like a law firm. Or a married couple. It rolls off the tongue, Mrs. Bella Chase and Mr. Joel Young. It looks great on a Christmas card. Mom and Dad always sent Christmas cards, with pictures. Dad stopped after she died.
