“Russell, who’s Russell?” Bailey asked, eager for more details.
Olivia supplied it with the triumphant air of someone revealing the murderer in the last chapter of a mystery novel. “Russell Clarke.”
“Thehockey player?” Bailey exclaimed.
“Yes,” Olivia confirmed.
“He’s…hot!”
“Unicorn client,” Olivia reiterated.
“I’m just not in the right headspace. Thanks for your help, Olivia, really, and thank Trevor, too, you guys did an amazing job. I thought I’d be able to compartmentalize but I can’t, I’m sorry. Just send me an invoice?—”
“This is not about money. I’ve known you since I was eight. I started my period at your house. I’m not charging you, but this guy is agoodguy. They don’t grow on trees, believe me.”
I glanced down at my desk and then at the computer. “I really need to catch up on some paperwork. With picking the girls up from school, I’ve been getting behind.”
I began typing, pulling up bills and invoices that I was actually behind on, not so subtly indicating this conversation was over. I caught a glimpse of Olivia and Bailey exchanging a glance, but then they both stood up and left.. As soon as they exited the room I slid the ring off my finger and put it back inside my purse.
That was a close one. Lying about being a doctor’s appointment was one thing, coming up with an excuse for why Iwas rocking a three carat diamond solitaire ring on my left hand would have a level of deceit expertise even I did not possess.
Which meant no more impromptu ring try on sessions. No matter how badly I wanted to. Which, strangely, even now, I did. The damn thing was calling to me. I might as well change my name to Gollum and call it My Precious.
31
ADAM
Three weeksafter Billie and I had secretly eloped, my back was doing better, I was no longer wearing a sling, and the subject of our courthouse wedding had not been brought up again…but it was all I thought about. Every time I looked at her, the words, “my wife,”popped into my head. Even if it was only in the eyes of the state of California, she wasmy wife.
It felt different. Our relationship felt different. Maybe it was just in my head. Maybe I was projecting. I’m sure that was the case. What the hell else did I have to do? Sit on the couch. Project. Overthink. Physical therapy. That was what my days consisted of.
Evenings were dinner, board games, or movies. Tonight was a board game night, and Joey’s choice was Life. We were all at the kitchen table, using the battered set from my childhood, the one with the spinner held together with masking tape.
My life felt like a game. Billie and I were the only ones who knew that we were a married couple, not just roommates, not just the default grownups running point on the day-to-day. Everyone else, her sisters, the girls, and Maddox, all thought thiswas a living situation born out of mutual convenience, having no clue it had turned into a marriage of convenience.
I wasn’t sure what part of it was fucking with my head more: the fact that it was bothering me so much that we were actually legally married and not even discussing it, the fact that no one knew, or the fact that it honestly didn’t seem to bother her or make any difference to her at all. Maybe all three.
She was doing me a favor, so me getting butt hurt over her indifference was the stupidest, most immature, asinine reaction I could possibly have had.
“Why are Bailey and Cole getting married?” Joey asked.
“Because they love each other and are best friends,” Billie explained.
“Does everybody get to marry their best friend at the wedding?” Joey asked.
“Can I wear my princess shoes?” Andi questioned.
Andi and Joey had a thousand questions about Cole and Bailey’s wedding, which was to take place next door in their backyard this weekend. The questions were all over the place. Is the cake chocolate or white? Do you have to kiss if you don’t want to? Will there be bouncy houses? What happens if aliens attack?
Billie fielded every question with the kind of chill that she never had with adults. She sat at the table with her hair in a messy bun that was already coming loose, and explained that no, you do not get to marry your best friend at someone else’s wedding, but yes, you can absolutely wear the princess shoes as long as you are careful on the deck stairs.
I watched her speak gently, eyebrows up when she was pretending to be shocked by their questions and mouth softening into a smile she didn’t seem to know she wore. I was so far gone on her, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
It didn’t matter. She didn’t want this life, and I couldn’t blame her. She wanted her freedom. She deserved her freedom.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see that it was a reminder about Hannah’s sleepover.
“Everything okay?” Billie asked.
