Page 14 of Never Enough

“Mims tries to feed everyone. You're not special.”

“She'll ask about my love life.”

“She asks about everyone's love life. It's her primary hobby. Her secondary hobby is quilting. You'll survive.”

He crosses his arms. Uncrosses them. Puts his hands in his pockets. Takes them out. Oliver's tells are all in his hands—the steadier his voice gets, the more restless his fingers become.

“I suppose I can make that one. On one condition,” he says.

“Name it.”

“I get one day.”

“One day.”

“To pack. To move my things. To vacate your guest room like a person and not like someone being evicted from his own brother's house because said brother decided to secretly acquire a wife.”

“I didn't acquire⁠—”

“One day, Henry.”

I look at him. He looks at me.

“One day,” I agree.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

He picks up his bottle. I pick up mine. We drink in silence for a minute.

“She's good for you,” Oliver says eventually. Quietly. Not looking at me. Looking at the window, at his own reflection, at the dark land beyond. “Gracie. She's always been good for you. Even before you had the sense to do something about it.”

My chest tightens. “I know.”

“Don't screw it up.”

“Helpful. Thank you.”

“I'm serious.” He turns from the window. “Whatever this is—however it happened, however fast and mysteriously secretive—don't screw it up. She deserves better than that.”

chapter

five

Gracie

A few hours later, I pull onto the gravel drive slowly, as if I’m still deciding whether or not to go through with this. Admittedly, I took a long time packing. Some, because I wasn’t sure what to bring. What do you pack when you’re moving into your temporary husband’s house to play pretend for six months? But also because I wanted to use up a chunk of the evening, so we wouldn’t have too much one-on-one time. So yeah, I wasted time.

My headlights sweep across the front of the house, catching the big window that I know sits in his living room, and I kill the engine before I can change my mind.

But I make no move to get out of my car. I hate lying to people. Frankly, I’m not very good at it either. And having to lie to both Kelsie and Caroline will likely give me hives. Thankfully, I avoided seeing them when I went and grabbed my car from behind our bakery.

Not that they’re avoiding me. No, they’re both blowing up my phone. In our group chat and individually. I responded once. Telling them I’d explain everything later. Since then, I’ve left them both on read.

The entire drive out here, I’ve been having a conversation with myself that would have concerned any licensed mental health professional. It’s not so much the reality of being married to Henry that’s causing my stomach to knot. No, for reasons I opt not to analyze, that feels fine. No, it is the lying.

To my friends, but also everyone else. The entire town. I grew up here, and I might not have family around anymore, but there are plenty of people in Saddle Creek who have known me from birth. Lying to them feels wrong.