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Finally, we’re alone.
“Wow. You really can see inside my room from up here,” Aster says as she stands next to the window.
It dawns on me that even though we lived next to each other for about a decade, she’s never been in my room. She spent a lot of time in Giselle’s room, though they mostly slept over at hers, and since Giselle’s and Leander’s rooms are just across from each other, I’m guessing Aster has stepped inside Leander’s at some point. But this is the first time she’s here in my room.
Well, it’s not like I’ve ever set foot in her room, either. I’ve just… been on the outside looking in.
“Have you been spying on me?” Aster asks with her hands on her hips as she faces me.
“No,” I answer confidently.
I looked into her window, yes, but never with binoculars. Besides, it’s not like I camped by my window watching her every move. I just liked looking out my window, and a lot of times she happened to be part of the view.
Aster, however, doesn’t look convinced. She narrows her eyes at me as she purses her lips.
I scratch my chin. “You know, I hate to break this to you, but for this marriage to work, you need to have some faith in me.”
Her hands leave her hips. One of them touches her shoulder as she lets out a breath.
“About this… marriage…”
Here we go.
“I just want to be clear. I only agreed to marry you because my dad wanted to see me in a wedding dress. He wanted to take pictures of me in a wedding dress, and he was able to do that today.”
“He did seem like he had fun,” I say.
He wasn’t just snapping photos of Aster but of everyone at the wedding, mostly without them knowing. He showed me a few earlier and some of them were incredible. Real. He truly captured the moments, the emotions of the people, the mood in the air. I guess that’s a former photojournalist for you.
“Yeah,” Aster agrees. “I was afraid he’d have an episode and make a scene, but…”
“He didn’t,” I finish.
Even if he did, though, his little act would still have been overshadowed by the circus Giselle, Aster and I put on.
“My point is I didn’t really want to marry you,” Aster says.
I have to say she is blunt.
“I don’t want this marriage, Mason. I’m not ready to be a wife.”
“I think you’ve made your point.”
Still, she goes on. “And no offense to you, but I… don’t love you, Mason.”
I already know that. I’ve known it for a long time. Even so, to hear her say it feels like a stake to the heart.
Somehow, hearing she doesn’t love me hurts even more than hearing she hates me.
I swallow. “None taken. In fact, that makes two of us. I only asked you to marry me because it’s what you seemed to want.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Did I tell you that?”
“No, but Giselle told me you were looking for me yesterday and that you seemed like you wanted to ask me something.”
“So you thought I came to ask you to marry me?”
“I just put two and two together,” I answer. “Was I wrong?”
Aster lets out a breath as she sits on the edge of the bed. “No. I was looking for you to ask you that.”
I nod. “But you turned tail after you saw Leander?”
She frowns. “No. Why does everything have to be about Leander?”
Why indeed?
“I was never fully convinced about my plan,” she says. “It was more of Peggy’s plan, actually. And after talking to Giselle, I had even more doubts.”
“What did she say?” I ask curiously.
“She was just talking about her wedding, and it made me think marriage is not something you take lightly or disrespect.”
“Clearly, she agrees with you.”
Aster lifts a hand to her mouth as she gasps. “You think I made her change her mind about marrying Bill?”
“Giselle changed her mind,” I point out.
She says nothing.
“And so did you,” I add. “You decided that marrying to grant a father some happiness and peace of mind was not a form of disrespect. And you’re right. Some people marry for less. Wealth. Power. Lust.”
Aster looks down at her hands and rubs her fingers. “Actually, I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
“I never thought that was disrespectful. The reason I was feeling ashamed of myself was… because I was thinking of a fake marriage.”
My eyebrows crease. “Oh.”
I wasn’t expecting that.
“You mean with a fake pastor?”
Aster nods.
“You were going to ask me to pretend to marry you?”
Another nod. “Like I said, I’m not ready for a real marriage.”
And yet I’ve trapped her in one. A marriage with a real pastor in a real church. Real ceremony. Real papers. No wonder she won’t accept it.
I run my fingers through my hair. “I’ve put you in quite a spot, haven’t I?”
