Page 165 of Unhinged

I lower my hand to look at my silver ring. “A couple of days ago. We exchanged them last night. Better late than never.”

“I’m curious since you never talked details. Did you give Simone an engagement ring? I don’t see her wearing one at work.”

“No. I want to, though.”

“I have your grandmother’s if you want that.”

I laugh. “Uh, I don’t know. Wasn’t she wearing it when that train hit her? Seems like bad luck. I’ll buy one for Simone. Something more in line with her taste. I just can’t right now.”

“I can loan you the money.”

I shake my head. “We need other things first.”

“Where did you propose to Simone?”

I go for the legitimate answer but wish I had another. “The kitchen at the bar.”

She wrinkles her nose and raises an eyebrow. “Really? That’s…different.”

“It felt right.”

Mom sighs but smiles. “I’m very proud of you. I know it has to be hard for you two right now, not living together, but I pray that you have a long and happy marriage.”

“Thank you.” Me too.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you get a hotel room? You’re newlyweds and need time alone.” I make a face at my mother, but she’s immune to most.

“Because she works tomorrow. You’d know that since you’re her boss. For now.” I shoot another glare her way in vain.

She cocks her head. “It’s okay if she comes in late. I mean, she makes you happy and seems to be good for you. She can enjoy the perks of being married to the boss’s son.”

I smirk. “Thanks. I’ll tell her.”

I escape to my room and open the closet. Sighing, I pull out a black pair from the stack and sit on the edge of my unmade bed. Receiving them as a gift is one thing, but wearing them is a different monster altogether. I used to live in sweatpants. I mean, I like designer clothes, but as a teenager, I had no money. All I cared about was comfort or easy access. I wasn't a hit with girls. With my goofy sense of humor, gangly body, and acne I didn’t date, but they sure enjoyed me as a laughingstock.

I stare at the sweats. They’re more than casual pants. They served almost as a gateway to those assholes taking advantage of me. I refuse to give either of those douchebags credit for ransacking my virginity. Afterward, I stayed away from any sexual situations with women. I was more of a virgin than when I was technically a virgin.

And then what I did to Simone earlier… She’s right. I need to conquer my demons. It’s my turn at bat. I’ve let them win for far too long.

Removing my boots and jeans, I take a couple of deep breaths. It can’t be this hard. I wear pajama bottoms, for fuck’s sake. But I don’t wear those in public, either.

How fucking stupid? I can do this. They still have the brand sticker on them. I toss it in the trash and then put on the pants. I look at the ceiling, so I don’t see my reflection in the mirror yet. When I do, it feels like I’m that high school kid, but just that. So far, nothing more.

My boots will look wrong with my sweats, so I grab my black-and-white Galliano hi-tops. They’re my favorite and most expensive pair of shoes.

Since I have extra clothes at Simone’s, I already have enough to stay at a hotel. Still, I grab another pair of sweats. This time green. White, though? Yeah, never unless I want to look like a slumming twat waffle who sells cocaine in a mall parking lot. Or Amos.

Before leaving, I text my bride to tell her to pack an overnight bag with clothes she’ll need for work tomorrow. I expect her to argue, but she replies okay and doesn’t ask further questions. What a pleasant change of pace.

Going into the kitchen from the garage, I see Simone zipping up her small pink suitcase sitting on a kitchen chair. When she bends, her lime-green sweater slides up, and her black yoga pants hug her ass perfectly. Without looking at me, she says, “Hey, swizzle stick. I’m almost ready. Where are we going, by the way?”

“I thought we’d stay at a hotel tonight.”

She spins around with wide eyes and a grin, but when she looks at my legs, her eyes widen more. “Oh. My. God.”

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