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“I think maybe I’ll sit down for a bit first,” I tell him.
I need to take a break from all this moving business, especially since I still don’t know if I should be hanging my clothes in his closet or the guest room. The more time I can buy myself on that question, the better, I figure.
“For sure,” he replies, smiling back at me. “Do you want tea or something?”
“That actually sounds amazing,” I answer, letting out a deep sigh.
“Two teas, coming right up,” he smiles and disappears into the kitchen. A second later though, his voice calls out.
“And really, make yourself at home! This is your place too now!”
I can’t help but smile at that, and I let myself sink into the couch, slipping off my shoes.
He comes back a few minutes later with a cup of tea for each of us, and I can feel myself start to relax.
“Hey, how about ordering in for dinner?” he asks. “What’s your favorite food?”
I grin. “I could go for a pizza – no pineapple.”
“I wouldn’t allow it anyway,” he jokes, and we set about ordering the pizza for dinner.
As we wait for it to arrive, I feel myself slipping into a daydream. Carter has been so sweet – inviting me into his home, helping me move, offering his bed, and even just the little things like making me a tea and asking what I want to eat. All these things make me think that maybe this is more than just an arrangement. Maybe this is becoming the real thing.
But the moment the thought arises, I push it away. None of those things are really anything more than what he’d do for a friend, I’m sure.So are we friends with benefits then?
The doorbell rings and Carter jumps up to get it, leaving me to stew over my feelings. It occurs to me that usually a relationship gets serious when someone proposes, except that Carter already did that. Or I guess I kind of did. It’s no wonder this is all so complicated.
“Your pizza, Mrs. Finch,” comes Carter’s voice behind me, and I see him grinning and carrying the pizza boxes. I also notice a bottle of wine in his other hand.
“And that?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and smiling.
“This is to celebrate your first night in your new home,” he tells me, setting the boxes and the bottle down.
He rushes off to the kitchen and comes back a second later with two wine glasses, and I can already see things are about to get a lot more complicated. Right now though, I don’t even mind.
29
CARTER
It feels nice to have Jada here. It’s not just because we’ve been having a good time together, but it’s also just nice because this house finally feels like a home. Having Jada take a room, walking through the house, her things intermingled with mine, that feels unlike any feeling I’ve had when it comes to this house.
I’ve always loved it here, but Jada has turned it into a true home for the two of us.
Once the day has come to an end, and we’re getting ourselves ready for bed, I try not to keep noticing Jada in the bathroom. She’s washing her face from the day, and I’m lying here, feeling the tipsiness from the wine. I wish she would come out here and lie next to me.
Every moment I have to think about Jada and what she’s become to me makes my heart continue to swell. I keep blinking, wondering if she’s going to disappear and I’ll be here alone, not actually married to this magnificent woman.
I used to have these dreams that would pull me back to high school. They’ve lessened over the years. In them, I’d always wake up in the dream and rush to get to school, but always forget either my gym clothes, or homework, a test, something. It was always terrifying, but once I woke up and realized I was years out of school, it’d make me laugh.
Being with Jada kinda feels like that. I worry and worry, but in the end she and I get each other. She isn’t just another dream about realizing I forgot to do an entire presentation. She’s not just my fake wife. She’s also grown to be this light in my life. Fake marriage or not, I’ve begun to really thaw to the idea of Jada and I beingreal.
I don’t want to scare her off, though. I don’t want to push too hard and end up with nothing, especially considering none of this was part of our initial deal. She’s told me over and over how much she values her freedom, and here I am, getting in the way of that after all. I know she and I have, as friends, figured out how to make everything between us work, and that’s important to me. I don’t need to complicate that.
Jada comes out of the bathroom and gets into bed next to me. I smile at her. She returns it, but it seems stiff.
I move closer to my fake wife. “What’s going on?” I ask her, glad to finally be able to talk to her again.
“What do you mean?” Jada answers, but she doesn’t look up at me.
