Page 35 of Forever Fighting
“Trust me, kid, if we’d done anything, you’d be feeling that today as well.”
Well then. A blush crawls up my face, and I cover it by taking another sip.
“So what do we do now? Other than get divorced.” I bark out a laugh and shake my head. “This is so messed up. I’m sorry. I went from planning my wedding to one man to marrying another in a Vegas chapel. My family is going to kill me. Your family is going to kill me. Holy shit, Adam. He’s your friend. I made you marry your best friend’s ex.”
“You didn’t make me marry you. I was a willing participant. I didn’t do it because of the dare or anything else.”
“And the other stuff?”
He looks away, out toward the window on the other side of the bedroom, his expression intense and thoughtful. “I don’t know what to say about Adam. I feel shitty. Very shitty. He wants me to help him win you back, and instead, I married you. Not to mention, you were engaged to him a week ago.”
“I feel so stupid. I know I talked you into it. Can we not tell anyone? Can we keep it a secret?”
He turns back to me, his eyes all over my face, even as his eyebrows pull together, my question turning into understanding. “You mean get a quickie divorce and pretend like it never happened?”
I gnaw on my lip, but I don’t know why I’m nervous to say yes. He didn’t exactly marry me out of love and wanting forever with babies in the baby carriage. He married me after a huge professional night and a lot of alcohol and teasing from his friends. And because I thought it would be fun. And funny, which it kind of is superficially and kind of isn’t logistically.
“My life is already a mess, and my engagement ending was very public, considering we had to rescind our invitation and who my fiancé was. I don’t want more drama, and you’re Roman Fritz. Us getting married the way we did will be mocked. It’ll make the freaking news. And it’ll cause issues for you with Adam. As much as I hate him right now, and I’m glad you’re here with me, he’s your friend, and I wouldn’t ever want to come between that. Hopefully, we can get divorced, and no one will be the wiser.”
His eyes search mine as he considers all of this. “If that’s what you want.”
Something in his voice catches me, but my head is still too muddled to think clearly. “I think it has to be that way. Let’s keep it a secret. At least for now.”
11
ROMAN
After I put Braelyn to bed last night, I sat on the floor outside her door, listening to her sleep. I told myself it was so I could make sure she didn’t vomit on her back or anything, but the truth was, I didn’t want to be far from her. I couldn’t be in her bed with her. I knew that.
But I had just married her, and I had a lot of thoughts about that.
I knew it wasn’t real. I knew she’d wake up this morning exactly how she did, with regrets and incredulity and wanting to brush the whole thing away like a bad dream. So I took that time last night on the floor, listening to her slow, even breaths, to come to grips with that.
I promised to love her forever, forsaking all others, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death did us part. And I meant it. I meant every word because there is no one else I’ve ever considered marrying. I had hoped that one day, I’d fall out of love with her and move on, but I never pictured marrying. I’m not really the type, I don’t think. That was always Nash.
But there I was, married to my best friend, to my dead brother’s ex-girlfriend, and my current best friend’s ex-fiancée. Not to mention, I was planning on leaving her in less than two months for another country. Another life. As you can imagine, there was a lot to process with that. A lot of guilt to sift through because even though it’s tied to some of my standard guilt, it was different.
After Nash died, I used to talk to him a lot. I’d spend my nights lying in bed, staring out the window or up at the ceiling, and I’d talk to him. A lot of it was apologizing and asking if he blamed me the way I blamed myself. That if we had returned, would he have asked Braelyn to marry him right then and there even though they were only eighteen. I’d ask him a million questions I knew would never be answered and then once I’d exhausted those, I’d talk to him about everything inside me that I didn’t know what to do with.
Part of that was turning into Braelyn as our friendship grew tighter, and I started to see her a little differently than I ever had before. I’d ask him if he hated me for that, the way I hated myself. After all, she was his girl and not mine. That was one of the reasons I went to Europe the first time. To escape those feelings. All of them. To try to move on and regain any piece of my life I could.
So yeah. There was a lot in my head last night and a lot weighing down my heart, but it also felt full. Stupidly, I knew better.
“Okay. We won’t tell anyone,” I manage, the words cutting like a razor as they slice past my tongue.
There is as much relief in that as there is agony. I clear my throat. In fairness, I’m not sure what I’d even tell anyone. I certainly don’t want more press or attention on me and there would be with that since my name is famous.
“There’s food I ordered from room service. I thought we might eat by the pool if you’re up for it.”
“Hell yeah, I’m up for it. Food and a day by the pool soundsfreaking amazing as long as I don’t have to do too much and there’s coffee with my sports drink.”
“Always coffee.”
“Perfect. Give me five and I’ll meet you out there.”
Without a word, I leave so she can get herself together. I do the same, methodically changing out of my sweaty gym stuff and into a clean T-shirt and swim trunks, while forcing myself not to think about the fact that she wants to pretend like last night never happened. I’m not surprised. Frankly, it’s what I expected, so I don’t know why I’m disappointed now.
Ten minutes later, she’s walking outside to join me under the shade of an umbrella at the table by the pool. She’s in an annoyingly distracting green bikini top. It’s the kind that looks like a bra, and it pushes her tits up while offering me a mouthwateringly enticing amount of cleavage that bounces as she walks.
