“No,” Adam, Bailey, Cole, Birdie, and I all responded in unison.
Nigel chuckled. “Oh, okay, well then Billie, if you could sit on?—”
“Adam,” Adam introduced himself to Nigel.
“Billie, if you can sit on Adam’s lap.”
I lowered down onto Adam’s lap just like I had twenty years earlier, except this time I was holding my sister’s bouquet. Bailey, Cole, and Birdie all gathered around looking at us like we were an attraction at the zoo.
“A little closer,” Nigel instructed, then began clicking. “Perfect. Wow. Yes. This is fate!”
Adam pulled me into him, and he whispered against my ear, his lips brushing the cusp, “Do you think this is fate?”
A chill raced down my spine at the rasp in his voice and the graze of his soft, firm mouth along my sensitized area of skin. I hoped he didn’t feel his effect on me, but I knew he did. He’d always been hyperaware of me, every tiny shift or change in my body he noticed.
“Okay great, and can you get closer to him, lean into him?” Nigel waved his hand.
I turned towards him, and through my smile, without moving my lips, whispered into his ear, “Fate knows we’re already married.”
My response caused a ripple to move through his body, and his finger clenched, causing his grip to dig into my hip. It felt possessive, it felt territorial, it felt like I belonged to him. Myhusband.
33
ADAM
Everything past the reception post-bouquet/gartertoss, was a blur, a countdown to being alone in the house with Billie. And now we were. I let us inside, the leftover scent of her perfume swirling around me the moment I shut the door. For a long heartbeat, neither of us moved.
“I’m…” Billie began but then stopped and just stared at me.
I held my breath waiting to hear what Billie was going to say.
“Thirsty,” she blurted out before turning around and retreating to the kitchen.
Thirsty. Right. Okay.
I followed behind the clicking of her heels. The kitchen was cast in midnight blue, the only light coming from the fridge, which Billie opened in search of water. I leaned against the counter, watching her from a few feet away, the same way I’d watched her all night. The dress she wore was dark green, sleeveless, with a skirt that fell just above her knees. I’d spent the entire reception picturing what it would look like in a pile on the floor, envisioning what she’d look like out of it.
She poured two glasses and handed me one. Her hands shook just a little, just enough for me to notice. I took the cup from her, our fingers grazing, the contact brief but electric.
“Thanks,” I said.
After taking a sip, she leaned against the counter across from me. “It was a beautiful wedding. It was very Bailey.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. It had been beautiful. All the more so because of her. “Your sister seems happy, they both do. You did an amazing job with them.”
Her shoulder lifted in a shrug, dismissing the compliment.
“I’m serious. I was here, I know how much you did for them. Your grandparents were great, they provided a roof over your heads, and food on the table, but you were the one who took care of them, the day-to-day stuff. Homework. Baths. Fights. That was all you. I wasn’t here for the teenage years, but I have to assume it was you who dealt with the first heartbreaks, taught them to drive and helped with their SAT prep. College. It was a lot to be on you. You did good, they are happy.”
Tears started to form in her eyes. She looked down at the ground as she sniffed. “Thanks.”
It got quiet for a while. The silence stretched on. A car drove past on the street, its headlights flashing through the curtains, and Billie’s eyes followed it as if she were searching for an escape route. I could feel her thinking. I could feel her pulling away, even as she stood a few feet from me, and I wanted nothing more than to bridge the distance.
She finished her water, set the glass down, and exhaled. “I should… get some sleep.”
She turned in the direction of the stairs, paused, and looked back at me. Her face was open, vulnerable, the mask she wore for everyone else dropped. “Goodnight, Adam.”
I wanted to stop her. Every cell in my body ached to move, to pick her up and set her on the island and ask her to just stay,please. To beg her to stay. Not just for tonight, but for every night. Toactuallybe my wife. But that wasn’t fair. She didn’t want kids. She never wanted kids. She declared that at eight years old and never changed her stance on it. So, I didn’t move.
