“Of our fake marriage. Hell, I didn’t even bother to tell you I don’t have any STIs! What we just did, it crossed a line. Broke the rules we’d set out.”
Charlie doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t respond for a long time as he places a dried glass into the cupboard.
Why does shelving drinking glasses require so much of his concentration? Can’t he just say thanks and then we can be done?
Tomorrow, I’ll get up early to help him pack. And then I’ll go in the backyard, dig into my garden with a vengeance, and try to figure out some other way to save Leo from his thoughtless life decisions.
“I don’t want out.” His words fill the kitchen, unyielding in their certainty. “If anything, I want more in.”
“More in? What does that mean?”
Charlie turns his back to the counter, leaning against the marble and gripping it on either side of his hips. His searching gaze meets mine.
“I don’t like the idea of not being married to you. Ever.”
“What?” My volume increases tenfold, and I wait for him to laugh at his ridiculous joke.
Charlie blinks down at his feet. “I like you, Luna. What we did here, that wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment attraction thing. I’d wanted to do that for a while.”
Needing to hold on to something, I grip the counter opposite him.
“A while? How long is a while?”
Charlie meets my eyes, his mouth held in a serious line. “The boat.”
“The …” The boat. The first time we met.
Oh hell.
“You cannot be serious!” I pace away from him, digging my fingers into the roots of my hair. “You agreed to a fake marriage even though you have some silly crush on me?”
“Doesn’t seem silly to me.” Charlie cracks his knuckles before shoving his hands in his pockets.
I wish I had a punching bag in front of me to pummel.
“You lied to me!” I throw at him, not sure why there’s such a sharp pain in my chest.
My deceitful husband pushes off the counter, crossing to me with serious eyes. “You asked me if I wanted to marry you. I did, so I said yes. I never lied.”
“You misled me!”
“I didn’t share all of my feelings with you, but I’ve followed all of your rules.”
“Not tonight you didn’t.”
He stares at me hard. “I’m not the one who broke first.”
“Fuck you!”
Charlie’s face goes blank. A completely closed-off expression I’ve never seen him wear before. “It’s late. Let’s talk about this tomorrow morning.” He maneuvers around me, heading toward his bedroom.
“What about couples never going to bed angry?” I yell at his back.
My husband pauses, but he doesn’t turn around. “I don’t think that’s a good rule. Emotions are always more manageable when the sun is out.”
He lets out a short whistle, and Pig scrambles up from her dog bed to follow him.
Once again, I’m left alone in the kitchen. Only this time, I’m reeling for an entirely different reason.
