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I squeeze his hand as I take a breath. “Something you need to know about me is that I overthink everything. And I worry about every tiny detail of every tiny thing. So, there’s a lot I’m thinking about and worrying about right now.”
He gives me a tender smile. One that’s filled with care. “I already know this about you.”
I breathe in more air to try and calm my nerves. I take the longest minute with this breath before saying, “You have to admit we’ve acted very recklessly.”
“I would say wildly, not recklessly.”
Bradford and I haven’t had a great deal of time to talk at length about our marriage yet. After the initial shock of it this morning, his political consultant was on the phone to him and consumed most of his time today. Bradford was regretful and apologetic about that but I insisted he not feel that way. His career is important to him and I don’t want our marriage to come between him and his goals.
The thing about getting married recklessly like we have is that I’m second-guessing everything now. Worst of all, I’m second-guessing myself. I’ve worked hard in therapy to erase the self-doubts I have about myself, and while I’ve done a good job, this situation is causing them to flare.
Will I drive him crazy with the way I talk in my sleep?
Will he grow frustrated with my inability to ever be on time?
Will I be smart enough to keep up with him?
Will he regret marrying me instead of Cecelia?
“Kristen.” Bradford’s insistent tone brings me back to the conversation. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t stand cracked heels or dry skin,” I blurt as all my feelings clog my lungs.
He keeps a straight face and I know he’s working overtime to figure out where I’m going with this. “Okay.”
“That means I have a weird habit of checking my partner’s feet and insisting they moisturize often. It will drive you insane.”
Understanding washes over him and his shoulders relax. “You’re worried we don’t know all these small things about each other. And that they will come between us.”
“Yes! It’s the small things that add up over time that allow the big things to break a couple. What if you can’t stand my small things?”
“What if I can?”
I blink. “No one has ever been able to stand my small things.”
He frowns. “You were engaged.”
I know what he’s asking without asking it. How was I engaged if my partner couldn’t tolerate my quirks? “Yes, because I changed for him. I took painstaking care not to do the things he didn’t like. It was exhausting and I won’t ever do that again. I’m not sure I’m marriage material anymore.”
“You’re only questioning that because of the men you’ve chosen in the past. Now, you’ve chosen me and I’ll show you how wrong you are about that.” There’s a fierceness in his eyes when he continues. “I’m completely captivated by you, Kristen, and I have been since the night we met. You have a heart unlike any other I’ve ever met. If the only way to have you in my life is to moisturize my feet or eat bananas in a particular way, I’ll willingly do it.”
I skip a breath.
Actually, it’s stolen from me.
By my husband.
And I instantly know that it doesn’t matter what Bradford’s small things are either; I’ll willingly put up with them to have him and his heart in my life.
If we weren’t separated by the center console in Bradford’s Bentley, I’d climb onto his lap and show him exactly what I think of what he just said. Damn him for having a luxury car. Instead, I say, “The next wild thing you need to do is buy a new car. One that doesn’t have this divider keeping me from your lap.”
Heat immediately blazes in his eyes and I swear I see the switch in his thoughts to pure filth. “Consider it done.”
Oh, my.
The gravel and growl in his voice is enough to stir all my butterflies. “I was joking. You should not waste your money on a car.”
He gives me more of his signature intensity that I think could resuscitate me if I needed resuscitating. “Anything that gets you on my lap is not a waste of money. You have no idea just what I’d part with for that.”
