Page 85 of Wedding or Not

“It might if the world had access to our living situation, but they don’t. The cottages are private, and with the extra security, no one’s going to be able to stake us out and see which cottages we go into at night.”

He’s right. No one will know.

Except us.

“Okay.”

“Did you want something different?” He shoots me a quick, searching look. “You sound upset.”

My pride rescues me, if nothing else. “I’m fine. That makes sense. It’s just… I guess it is already kind of disorienting. I mean, this week we’ve been acting…”

I really wish I could finish a complete sentence of more than a few words.

“I know.” He lets out a hoarse exhale as the car in front of us finally turns in to the parking lot and we can progress toward the cottages. “That’s what’s been getting to me. It’s like I said last weekend. I threw being smart out the window. But I’ve been thinking about it all day, now that the honeymoon is over, and I think my first instinct was the right one. We might be married legally, but this marriage isn’t real. We need to get through this period where we’re in the public eye in a way where no one gets hurt.”

No one gets hurt.

Maybe he means me.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

My voice still wobbles as I say, “Okay. I guess that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry to pull back on you, but I think it’s best for both of us.”

“Right. You’re right.”

He is. Because if I’m not going to get a future with Wes, I need to withdraw emotionally. Right here and right now.

“So we can still get along like we’ve been doing, but let’s not live together. If you’re okay with that.”

“I’m okay with that.”

I’m not. But what the hell else can I say?

The honeymoon is now over.

I manage to get through the rest of the day because I’m swarmed by my sisters. And showing them photos, passing out gifts, and telling them about all the things we did fills the empty space that the conversation in the car created in my heart.

Wes is with Jake in their cottage, so that helps.

I feel scattered and edgy, but I’m not on the verge of falling apart. Not until the girls and Aunt Grace leave for their cottage and Natalie heads to town to hang out with a friend.

Audrey and I are alone as we load the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Was it bad then?” she asks softly.

“What?” My tone is sharp from surprise, not annoyance.

“You’re not going to stand there and lie to me. Something is wrong with you. Was it bad?”

“No. No, it wasn’t bad. It was…” The last word gets trapped in my throat, and I have to take a shaky breath to hold my composure.

“It was good?”

“Yes.”