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I’m lying to myself.
I’m lying to myself.
I’m lying to myself.
The one time I ever let the petrifying truth seep in was that night when the two of us got drunk out of our mind and ended up at the altar. The version of Nadia I was being that night?Thatbitch was living her truth. She may have been acting crazy and irresponsible and spontaneous. But at least that version of me was being real about what I feel for Harry.
Once upon a time, I had a well thought out list of requirements for what I wanted in a partner. But the inconvenient truth is, Harry Westbrook came out of nowhere and tore that list to shreds. He’s the wild card I could never have predicted.
Do you believe in soulmates?
That’s what I find myself typing into my browser when I should be trying to work my way through these contract files from the office.
I sit on the couch, clicking from one website to the next, reading through the stories of people who fell in love in an instant. People who started out as cynics like me, only to find themselves flat-on-their-asses in love when they least expected it.
And gradually, I’m starting to realize that I might not be so crazy after all.
I may be…in love. With a man I married on a drunken whim.
Harry Westbrook is my husband.
Husband.
A word that keeps giving me a wicked case of butterflies.
At first, it terrified me. It’s a reminder of my silly mistakes. Drinking too much. Letting my guard down. Being too carefree. But now…more and more this marriage to Harry seems more like an ‘opportunity’ than an ‘accident’. I’m struggling to remember why I’m fighting it so hard.
My eyes flit to my website browser again.Do you believe in soulmates?
This man is virtually a stranger. Yet what I feel for him transcends anything I’ve ever experienced. That would piss me off if I weren’t so busy being utterly terrified. And to make matters worse, more and more, I’m beginning to realize that, maybe he’s not a stranger after all.
Hand on my chest, breathing deeply, I listen to my heart, just like Regina taught me. I don’t argue. I don’t fight. I just listen.
Do you believe in soulmates?I ask myself.
I listen to the part of me that has always wanted to be loved just the way I am.
All of a sudden, the truth is blindingly clear. I was in love with Harry Westbrook long before the night of that gala.
I was in love with his big heart, with his charming smile, with the way he turned me into a different version of myself. I just refused to let myself see it. But then once I had enough alcohol in my system to drown my inhibitions for one night, it became impossible to deny my feelings for him.
That’s the truth about how we ended up stumbling down the aisle together. That’s how we ended up saying I do.
A shaky sob works its way up my throat and I pull my blanket tighter around my shoulders, curling my legs under me. I realize that I can argue with myself all I want. But I’m not going to negotiate myself out of love with him. It’s just not going to happen.
Iknowhow crazy this sounds but…if I’m honest with myself, maybe I don’t want to get out of this drunken accidental marriage.
I think Iwantto be Harry Westbrook’s wife.
30
HARRY
My teammates are still jumping, hooting, and shouting as we head down the tunnel and into the visitor’s locker room. I’m as pumped as they are about today’s huge win, but I guess I’m not showing it quite as loudly.
Kind of hard to join in the butt-smacking and chest-bumping when I didn’t play a single snap during this game.
I’m trying not to mope. It was an important win for the whole team. This away-game win keeps the Paragons in the running for a possible playoffs bid. We still have a shot at being selected as one of the wild card teams headed to the next round of the championship.
