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Shit.
I listen to his smooth, playful voice on the voicemail recording, feeling that twinge again in my chest.
My wacky therapist’s words fill my head.“I invite you to examine your original list of excuses with a fresh lens. Do your original excuses still feel true?”
Momentarily, I question my decision. Is an annulment even what I want?
“Jeez. Of course that’s what I want,” I try to convince myself. “Of course.” Because this marriage was a mistake. And mistakes require fixing.
My mind drifts back to our Saturday night conversation at the bar, where Harry told me that he never wanted to get divorced. How he never plans to get married more than once. How he is a one-and-done kind of guy. In the most romantic and faithful way possible.
Guilt zips through me. I realize that I might even be more concerned about how this accidental marriage will affect him than how it will affect me.
Harry is such a good guy. He deserves to have his dreams. I never wanted to ruin his vision for his perfect life. Even if I’m jaded and skeptical that such a life exists doesn’t mean I don’t want that for him.
Heck, all his constant starry-eyed talk even has a tiny piece of me almost wishing for the same.
I groan out loud. Dealing with this would be so much easier if he’d just take my damn calls.
Shit, shit, shit.
How the hell are we going to get out of this?
24
HARRY
My phone buzzes as I climb out of my car. With a dejected sigh, I ignore it and stroll around to the passenger side and help Grammy to her feet. My mind is everywhere but this community center parking lot.
Yesterday, I could probably get away with all the missed calls. Game days are always busy. At least, I had an excuse then. But by now, it’s obvious. I’m just an asshole for ignoring all of Nadia’s calls.
I don’twantto be an asshole.
That’s not me.
But I’m on edge, a pathetic coward over how bad I screwed things up with Nadia. I know she’ll want to end this marriage immediately. If she does that, whatever closeness we were developing over the past little while will be gone for good.
The talking and laughing for hours, the sharing intimate secrets, the kissing, the ‘other’ stuff—it will all be a thing of the past after this disaster. I’ve officially ruined any chance at getting my dream girl.
But at the same damn time…I really fucking miss her.
“What’s wrong with you?” Grammy’s voice breaks through my pity party.
“Hmm?”
“Your face is all messed up and your hand is sweaty and gross. Something’s bothering you, dearie. Let’s hear it.”
My shoulders drop. “I took Nadia to that gala the other night and—”
“I already know that. I was waiting to see if you’d tell me about it or if I’d have to wait to get the details from Nancy and the girls.” She frowns at me. “You didn’t screw things up, did you?”
I want to deny her accusation, but Grammy is hard to fool. “No. Well, maybe. Probably.” I exhale. “After the gala, I took her out for a few drinks. We were having a good time. Everything was going great. But then…”
Grammy stops walking, her expression alarmed as she stares at me. “But then?”
I suck in a breath, ready to be berated by my grandmother. “We had too much to drink and we…ended up getting hitched,” the words rush out, completing my confession.
“Oh?”
