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“No, watching my fiancée get drunk to mask the jealousy she was feeling is what started the doubts. The tattoo just added fuel to the fire.”
I open my mouth, but quickly shut it. The wine has made my brain foggy, and I don’t know how to respond. Brad shakes his head in disappointment and walks to the driver’s side door.
“You’re wrong!” I yell after him.
“For the last time, get in the car, Rory.”
* * *
The next morning,I wake up with one of the worst hangovers I’ve had in a while. The morning light is blinding as it penetrates the thin, white sheet I have thrown over my face. I don’t quite remember how I ended up in my bed. Unfortunately, that’s the only thing blurry about last night.
“How are you feeling?”
Brad’s deep voice is barely above a whisper. I peel back the sheet from one eye and find him standing in the doorway.
“Like my head is about to explode at any moment.” I sit up and rest my back against the headboard. Looking down, I notice I’m in one of my old college shirts and panties.
“You didn’t cooperate enough for me to get pants on you.” Brad enters the room with a bottle of aspirin in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “Here, take this.”
The bed dips under Brad’s weight, and I let out a sigh. “I’m so sorry. I have no clue what came over me last night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth about the tattoo when I first asked?”
“I’ve never told anyone. It’s not like I was keeping it from you on purpose.”
“Is the reason you’ve kept it a secret because it really means nothing, or is it because it means so much you can’t share it with anyone but him?”
“It doesn’t mean what you think it means.” I pop four Tylenol in my mouth and swallow them with a big sip of cold water. “It’s exactly as Jackson said. We got them on a whim one drunken night while I was in college.” That’s not entirely true, but right now Brad doesn’t need to hear the true story.
He scrubs his face with the palms of his hands. It looks like he got little sleep last night and that’s my fault. “Marriage is something I’ve never taken lightly. I want it to be a one and done. If you have any doubts, now would be the time to bring them up.”
Brad’s dark eyes hold mine, and for the first time, I see vulnerability. Slowly, I shake my head. “No doubts.”
He doesn’t look completely convinced, but he accepts my answer. “A few emails came in overnight that need my attention. I’m going to head back to Austin, and you have to meet Leann in less than an hour.”
“Oh crap, I forgot.”
My fingers gently massage my forehead, trying to ease the blinding pain. Brad’s fingers wrap around my wrist as he guides my hand to his chest. His firm chest is a stark contrast to the soft shirt under my fingertips.
“I love you,” he proclaims, while staring me straight in the eyes. I hesitate for a moment, but Brad’s lips are on mine before he can notice. His kiss is soft, which is unusual for him. When he pulls away, his knuckles caress my cheek. “I’ll call you later.”
* * *
“DidI mention I hate to shop?”
Leann and I are back-to-back in the narrow clothing aisle and I can hear the wire hangers slide against the metal rack as she quickly looks at each dress.
“A few times now.” I smile.
Hawk Bend isn’t known for its shopping spots, so Leann and I had to make our way closer to Austin. This is the fifth store we have been to today. And if it wasn’t for that third cup of coffee I snagged at the local drive-thru before heading out of town, I’d be screwed. Thankfully, the caffeine also helped the lingering headache, and I no longer feel like my head is in a vice.
“I should’ve never agreed when Jameson offered to throw this thing. This isn’t even a milestone year.”
“We should consider every year a milestone. Thirty-two years of marriage is just as special as thirty or forty. You two deserve to be celebrated.”
Leann makes a strangling sound with her throat, and I have to stifle my laugh. She’s a born and bred small-town girl who enjoys the simpler things in life. She would be happy celebrating her anniversary with a small gathering of friends at the local hall. But instead, she agreed to a formal affair at one of the fanciest hotels in Austin because Jameson offered.
“I swear that boy just enjoys showing off his money.”
