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I pursed my lips. I expected the question. Heck, I expected her to push for more information the minute I told her about the engagement. But if she suspected I hadn’t actually been dating Andy for a year, she didn’t dare say as much.
“Marriage is great,” I answered honestly. “A little weird at first, but nice. Andy’s a good guy.”
She huffed. “You’re not going to tell me anything else, are you?”
I wanted to tell her. I was dying to tell her. But telling Becca would open up a can of worms I wasn’t prepared to dive into, especially not right before surgery.
“When you come home for off-season, I’ll tell you everything. For now, just be happy for me.”
“As long as you’re happy,” she relented. “Have your husband text me when you’re in recovery. Give him a reason to get on my good side.”
I grimaced. “Absolutely,” I lied. Again. An annoying habit I’d have to get used to. “Love you, Bec.”
“Love you, good luck!”
I hung up, a knot in my stomach. I couldn’t tell Becca I hadn’t even asked Andy to drive me to the hospital. That was something actual husbands did. Not fake husbands.
“Hey, need any help?” Andy asked, knocking lightly on the door frame.
I startled, turning away from the closet with a smile.
Returning home after the honeymoon was a wake-up call about our life together. I found my days filled with pre-op appointments and moving while Andy came back to an avalanche of problems with the two new gyms. Most mornings, he was gone before I woke up and didn’t come home until late in the evening.
I tried not to be disappointed, but I couldn’t help wishing we’d stayed in the city just a little longer.
I mentally inventoried the bandages and straps, bands, and weights. “Nope, I don’t need help. It’s just outpatient surgery, so I don’t even need an overnight bag. I should be out of your hair in about…” I checked my phone. “Thirty minutes?”
He frowned. “Out of my hair?”
He’d traded his suits in for gym clothes once we’d come home, but today he wore a black shirt that melded to his chest and a faded pair of jeans.
“Right,” I said slowly, tilting my head. “You’ve got work.”
“You’re having surgery. I’m not going to work today. I’m driving you.”
My stomach fluttered. I tempered the feeling. A doting husbandwouldtake his wife for surgery. This was all part of the deal.
“Thea had the day off. She’ll take me.”
I’d wanted to ask Bunny or my brothers, but Cal and Len hadn’t warmed to the idea of my sudden marriage, and I didn’t want to fan their anger by explaining why I wanted them to take me instead of Andy. Because, before this moment, he hadn’t mentioned wanting to take me and I certainly hadn’t asked.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not a big deal. You’re busy, and Thea said she doesn’t mind. She’ll probably be here when you get home. I’m not supposed to be alone until the drugs wear off.”
Andy pushed himself off the door and walked into the room. He ran a finger over the small wooden desk I’d moved in from my apartment, then squared up less than an arm’s length away from me.
“I’m coming with you, Nora. Obviously, it’s fine if you want Thea there too, but I’m going,” he said, his voice firm.
The tinge of disappointment in his words made me wonder if I should have asked him first.
I nodded weakly. “Okay, if you insist.”
“I do,” he said, the disappointment gone. “I’ll let you finish getting ready. Meet you downstairs.”
He left, leaving my stomach churning and my mind muddled. There had been moments in New York where I’d almost convinced myself he liked me. Then, we’d returned to Franklin Notch and been little more than roommates. I’d assumed everything in New York had been for show, but maybe I’d been wrong.
I dialed Thea’s number. “Hey, The.”
