“Oh sweet Gage, there is an entire glacier underneath this surface,” she says wryly, trying to bring some playfulness back, which makes my lips twitch. I give her handanother quick squeeze before reluctantly returning it to the wheel.
“Anyway, my point is, it was a great family dinner, and it feels shitty to lie to them about what we’re actually doing. When we talked about it in the abstract it didn’t seem so bad, but looking at your sweet niece in the face while deceiving her was awful. I’m trying to be a better person after getting out of prison, and lying to your wonderful family is not sitting well with me.”
My own guilt hits me like a wave. How will I explain to the family that we are getting divorced when the time comes? What if they all get super attached to her under false pretenses? We technically didn’t lie, we are getting married, just not for the reasons they’ve been presented with. Maybe this is all a huge mistake.
“We don’t have to go through with the marriage. I’ll find another way to keep the bar, and we’ll figure out how to get you the treatment you need. Maybe this wasn’t thought through enough, especially what the potential fall out might be,” I say. She blows out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t see how we’ll accomplish those things without going through with the marriage. You won’t get your bar, and I won’t be able to afford enough healthcare coverage to get through treatment, let alone pay for whatever would be left out of pocket.” She rubs her eyes in irritation. “I think we just need to figure out how to handle the fallout when we decide it’s over. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, because I really like your family.”
“They’ll never have to know it’s fake. Marriages fail all the time, and we’ll still be friends when it’s over. My family will still want to keep in touch with you, and you can keep seeing them since the divorce will be amicable,” I reason.
“How long do you think we should stay married?”
Her question is a good one, because I have no idea.
“I think it might depend on how things go. My dad wants to step aside fairly soon, but we don’t want to divorce as soon as I get the bar. Who knows what kind of treatment you’ll need, or surgery, and how long that will all take to happen until you get on your feet and have health insurance.”
“We’ll play it by ear then, I guess, and see what feels right,” she murmurs. We stop at a red light close to her apartment.
“Hey,” I say softly, getting her to look at me. “This will all work out, and we’ll make sure no one gets hurt, ok?” She nods slowly. Her face is shadowed in the dimly lit car, the only lights from other passing vehicles and the nearby businesses playing off of her bright eyes and glossy lips. So I can’t make out the minutiae of her expression. I hear her take a fortifying breath before her low voice reaches me.
“That’s my only condition. We make sure that no one gets hurt in this,” she asserts.
“Absolutely. I don’t want anyone getting hurt either, we’ll be incredibly careful with each other and my family,” I reassure her.
“Well then, I guess we’re really getting married in a couple of weeks, Casanova.”
Chapter 12
Celeste
I never thought I’d wear white on my wedding day, because I didn’t think I’d ever even have a wedding day. Yet here I sit in a vintage off-white jumpsuit I found at Goodwill a few days ago that happened to fit me perfectly. I had scoured discount stores and online boutiques for something affordable that would still make me feel good to wear, and I lost all hope until I stumbled across this gem.
It’s silky, sleeveless, with a fitted v-neck bodice and belt. Both the bodice and belt have delicate lace and beading to give it some charm, without looking overdone. A silky cape is attached to the straps, falling down my back to give the same feel as a bridal train. The legs of the jumpsuit gently taper out into a flare from the loosely fitted thighs, just short enough to offer a peak at my strappy silver sandals. I actually love it, this is exactly what I’d want to wear if I were getting married for real.
Tania is fussing with my hair in our shared bathroom at the apartment, twisting it and pinning the slippery strands into an updo that will take a miracle to keep in place. She’s already plucked my eyebrows and done my makeup withheavy winged eyeliner, while keeping everything else understated to let my eyes pop. Her face is a mask of worry and concern as she gets me ready for the courthouse. I’m getting toward my period again, and I’m in some pain, but the new hormones and a dose of pain meds have made it more than tolerable.
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
“I’m getting something out of this too, Nia. We’re two friends helping each other out, even though it’s not the most conventional way of doing it. It’s totally fine,” I reassure her, and, to fully own my shit, myself as well. The way I cracked myself open for him on the way home from family dinner flashes through my mind. We both seemed equally surprised at how much I told him, considering Tania is the only other person in this world I’ve talked to about my years before meeting her. It felt both terrifying and freeing to let him in a little like that, another break in the armor I’m slowly starting to peel away around him.
“Just think, now you won’t have me in your hair in your new love nest. I’ll be moving out in the next few days,” I go on. Gage and I have put it off to try to get to know each other a little more for the past couple of weeks as we went about making the wedding plans. Everything from choosing flowers to rings has gone smoothly, it’s been almost too easy planning this with him. All of those important decisions have been agreed upon with no argument, because we seem to want a similar vibe. We’ll see how cohabitating goes, but the fact that we seem so alike in our tastes makes me more optimistic than I was originally. Tania gives me a reproachful look.
“You say that like it’s a good thing. I’ve loved having you around, Cece. I missed you so much when you lived in New York. I just got you back, and now you’re moving out again.”We watch each other in the mirror as she props her chin on my shoulder, her arms looping around me in a fierce hug. She’s already dressed and ready in a pretty purple dress, black beaded sandals, and flawless soft makeup. Her black hair is swept up in a braided bun with a sprig of matching purple flowers in it. She looks stunning. Her warm brown eyes are soft and suspiciously wet, and dammit now mine are, too.
I missed her so much when I moved, but I thought getting away and trying to go to business school would help me heal. It didn’t. My life in New York was a roller coaster of barely making ends meet as a temp worker, failing to get into school there, and trying to stay out of trouble. That didn’t exactly work out, considering how my time there ended in a barroom brawl and an assault charge.
“Cut that out,” I tell her wetly. “You have a beautiful life now, and that should be your focus. It’s not like I’m moving that far away. Besides, I’ll be the one relieved to not have to hear your sex noises now.”
“We are not that loud,” she cries with a laugh.
“Keep telling yourself that, you hussy. Those walls are thin,” I retort with my own laugh. “You don’t need me anymore, Nia Bia. You have Carlo, your gremlin cats, and the Hernandez crew. You have Yolanda and her family in Spain. What you’ve built for yourself is incredible, and you don’t need me lurking around like some ghost from your awful past,” I go on more seriously. It’s what I’ve wrestled with since I moved in with her, and it feels good to get it out. Look at me, expressing my feelings with calm words instead of anger. Tania scowls ferociously, though.
“I know it’s your wedding day, and I should be nice, but that was by far the most idiotic, melodramatic thing I’ve ever heard you say, Cece. That’s saying a lot, by the way.”
“Rude,” I mutter.
“Just calling it like I see it. Why the hell would I not want you around? You’re my sister and I adore you, stop being dumb.” She snorts and starts cracking up. “A ghost from my awful past? You sound like a Bronte sister channeling Heathcliff, for fuck’s sake. You read that book so many times in high school, so I guess it tracks. That, and your cozy fantasy books.”
