Page 108 of Clinically Delicious
“We get married.” Gabriel’s voice was steady. Certain. Like he was suggesting we order takeout instead of proposing a solution to the felony we’d just committed. “Legally. As soon as possible.”
Nope.
Nope, nope, nope. This is not happening.
This is a fever dream. I’m still in bed. I never woke up. Gabriel never kissed me in the hallway. His ex-wife never showed up. And he definitely, DEFINITELY did not just suggest we get married for real.
“You’ve lost your mind,” I said flatly. “You’ve actually, genuinely lost your mind.”
“I’m being practical.”
“PRACTICAL?” My voice cracked. “Getting married to your nanny—who you’ve been secretly sleeping with for a week—to cover up a lie you told your ex-wife is not practical. It’s INSANE!”
“It solves the problem.”
“It creates new problems! SO MANY NEW PROBLEMS!” I was gesturing wildly now, the dish towel flapping like a flag of surrender. “What about Megan? What do we tell her? ‘Hey, sweetie, your dad and I got married super-fast because he accidentally called me his wife in front of your mom’s lawyer.’ That’s totally not going to confuse or traumatize her!”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “We’d explain it carefully.”
“There is no careful way to explain this!” I threw my hands up. “And what about after? What happens when the custody thing is resolved? Do we just... stay married? Get divorced? Pretend it never happened?”
“We’d figure it out.”
“Figure it out? FIGURE IT OUT!” I was pretty sure I was having an out-of-body experience. “Gabriel, we haven’t even figured out what we ARE. We’ve been sneaking around for a week. A WEEK. We have sex in closets and at three AM in your kitchen, and we’ve never once talked about—about feelings, or the future, or whether this is even a RELATIONSHIP.”
Something flickered across his face. Too fast for me to read.
“You’re right,” he said quietly.
I blinked. “I’m... what?”
“You’re right. We haven’t talked about it.” He took a step closer. “So let’s talk about it now.”
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
This is worse than the marriage suggestion. This is the feelings conversation. I am not equipped for conversations with feelings right now. My brain is still processing the fake wife thing. I can’t handle feelings AND fake marriage in the same five-minute span.
“I—” My voice came out strangled. “I don’t think now is the best time.”
“When would be a better time?” His eyes were locked on mine. Intense. Unwavering. “After Tonya’s lawyer investigates and finds out I lied? After she uses it against me in court? After I lose custody of my daughter?”
His words hit like a punch to the gut.
Megan.
This wasn’t just about me and Gabriel and whatever complicated, undefined thing we had going on.
This was about Megan.
About keeping her safe. About making sure she didn’t end up with a mother who’d abandoned her for a year and only came back when it was convenient. “That’s not fair,” I whispered.
“No,” Gabriel agreed. “It’s not. None of this is fair. But it’s the situation we’re in.”
I sank onto the couch, the dish towel finally falling from my hands.
Think, Cate. Think.
