Page 62 of One Hot Fake


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“No,” Marian says. “Sorry, but you’ll just aggravate him further.”

I sigh. “You’re right, but call me if you need me, okay?”

“I will,” Marian says. “Thanks, I don’t take for granted that you always have my back.”

I kiss her and watch her as she gets out, and with a wave, she disappears into the building. I kill the engine and prepare to wait. There’s no way I’m leaving Marian alone with Leonard.

I tap the steering wheel as ten minutes pass and then twenty. At the forty-five-minute mark, just as I’m considering storming in, Leonard emerges, followed by Marian. They stand outside the entrance of Lilly’s Love Boutique. They look as if they are arguing.

Then Leonard leaves, and that’s when Marian spots me. It’s too late to slide down and hide; besides, she can see the car. She stares at me and then marches toward the car.

I roll down my window as she nears.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been here all this time?” Marian says.

Is she angry? The afternoon sun’s glare is casting shadows on her face, and I can’t tell. “Yes, I thought I’d stick around just in case.”

“Just in case what?” she says, her voice cool.

I feel foolish, but I don’t regret my decision to stay. I don’t trust Leonard, and she shouldn’t either. “Just in case you needed me.”

Marian leans on the window, bringing her face real close to mine. “Listen here, Declan, I’m already dealing with one psycho; I don’t want to have to deal with another.”

I feel like she’s slapped me. “Aren’t you the same person who celebrated when I punched Leonard?”

“Yes,” Marian says, her voice tense. “But I didn’t appoint you as my bodyguard. I can take care of myself. I always have.”

I stare at her dumbfounded. I can’t believe she’s turned a nice gesture from me into a suspect one.

“I’ll make my way home,” she says and then turns around and walks back to her office.

I blink rapidly and realize two things. One, I’ve been dismissed until the next time my services are needed, and two, Marian is the driver in this relationship. She alone gets to decide when we can turn on our feelings and when we need to turn them off.

Indignation swells inside me. I gun the engine and jam the car into gear. I head to the shop, determined not to give any more thought to Marian. Work, as always, is my medicine, and by the time it’s evening, my anger has dissipated.

I’m the last to leave, and as I close up, Ace calls me.

“Hey, was that your car outside the pizza shop?” he says, and when I answer in the affirmative, he continues, “I’m at the station for a shift. Want to pass by?”

“Sure.” I’m not looking forward to going home to spend a tense evening with Marian. I hate confrontations and arguments.

Ace is waiting for me outside the station. We sit on the steps, exchange pleasantries, and watch the sunset. It resembles the bright orange color of a raging fire.

“Hey, let me ask you something,” I tell Ace. “What is marriage really like? Is it fun and awesome one day and explosive the next?”

Ace chuckles. “That pretty much describes it.”

My heart sinks. I don’t want to live like a yoyo or like a man on drugs. I don’t like high highs and low lows. I want to be on an even keel.

“Don’t you get tired of it?” I ask Ace.

“Sure you do, but then you remember that the worst day is better than the best day when you were alone,” Ace says.

All that sounds like a load of bull, and I tell him as much.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Ace says. “It’s early days for you. One day you’ll understand.”

A bell goes off, and Ace jumps to his feet. “Gotta go. Work beckons. Thanks for coming by. I’ve missed you. Tell Marian to stop keeping you to herself.” He slaps my shoulder and enters the firehouse.

I stand up and cross to the other side, where my car is parked. For the first time, I consider that I might not be cut out for relationships. I admit to myself that I don’t know the rules of marriage.

How far should I go to protect my wife? What are the boundaries? Am I a psycho? That last question is frightening. No woman has ever accused me of being a psycho, but then again, I’ve never felt or behaved this way with another woman.

Maybe I’m coming on too strong. I feel deflated, like a balloon that was full of air and someone malicious poked it with a needle. As I drive home, I inhale deeply.

Maybe I need to back off. Now that Marian has what she wanted, which is a baby, she’s not sure about our marriage and if she wants to make it work. There are so many unknowns in this relationship.

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