Page 106 of Necessary Cruelty

Thirty-One

I expectthe world to feel different when I wake up in the morning.

It surprises me when everything seems almost exactly the same. Then I remember where I am. I’m not in the bed of my cramped little room, or inside the house that is my family’s last earthly possession in a world that has clawed everything else away from us. Instead, I’m in the pool house of Cortland Manor, next to a guy who is the worst cover hog I’ve ever encountered.

This morning, I wake up as Vin Cortland’s wife.

But it feels like something more should be different. Because I am not the same. The Zaya Milbourne who existed a few weeks ago never would have agreed to any of this.

It should scare me more how quickly things can change, especially the way that I feel.

Now that we’re married, there might finally be cracks in the wall that has stood between us for the last ten years, letting the smallest amount of light through. That isn’t enough for me to think the past is actually behind us, but it gives me hope I might be able to walk away from this with my soul intact.

There isn’t a name for the emotion that wells up in me as I climb out of bed: a mix of fear and anticipation.

Fearcipation?

The thought makes me smile to myself, which surprises me again. Even in my own mind, there has rarely been room for playfulness or cheer. Every day of my life up to this point has been a slog to get from one moment to another without collapsing under the weight of it all.

Vin has always been part of the worst of that, but even he isn’t powerful enough to be responsible for it all. He didn’t lose the Milbourne fortune or cast us down into the muck in the Gulch. He didn’t force my mother to pack her bags and run because she couldn’t face the things she had done.

Vin Cortland had nothing to do with whatever made my last name synonymous with the dirt underneath people’s shoes, even if he has taken advantage of it. Any well-meaning adult could have stopped him from tormenting me, but no one in this town ever cared enough to make the attempt. And I know from experience that he has his own demons.

Already, I’m trying to rationalize the fact that I’ve said yes.

But today is the first day I can remember that I haven’t woken up with what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders. My grandfather is under better care than he has ever had in his entire life. Down in the Gulch, Grandpa will be out of bed and doing laps around the living room in his walker with the help of a physical therapist. Just seeing him walking is enough to make me forgive the horrible things Vin has done to me over the years.

Maybe one day, I’ll even forgive myself.

A social worker is already scheduled to come out and evaluate him for placement at the senior care home. Zion is days from getting out of Deception and away from the worst influences in our town with the chance to end up on a much better path than he ever would have been on otherwise.

In a year, I’ll be free. With enough Cortland cash lining my pockets to go anywhere and be anything I want. If Vin hadn’t come along with the deal, I would say it’s too good to be true.

But I can handle anything for a year, even Vin. What is one year in exchange for a lifetime in which nothing would have changed?

I’ve gotten acceptance letters to UCLA and UC Santa Barbara, both close enough that I could possibly commute from home with a car to avoid paying for campus housing. But that doesn’t matter, because neither of them offered me any financial aid. Without access to my mother’s financial records, they couldn’t offer me an aid package. Since Grandpa never adopted me, I have to submit her information.

Just one more thing to add to the list of all the ways she screwed me over by leaving.

But Mrs. Vin Cortland doesn’t need financial aid. She can write a check and pay for all four years of school at once.

Vin seems less concerned about the abrupt change in his routing. He is apparently the polar opposite of a morning person. His eyes don’t open all the way while he gets dressed, and it takes two cups of coffee for him to even seem to realize that I’m there.

When he catches me watching him, he just glares and gestures for me to follow him out the door, which he slams shut behind us.

Definitely not a morning person.

Neither of us speak until I notice we’re driving in the opposite direction of Deception High. “Where are we going?”

“We have an errand to run before school.”

We’re headed back toward the nicer shopping district in town. “What kind of errand?”

“The kind you’ll find out about in less than five minutes if you just shut up and wait.”

“Oh look, you’re being a jerk just for the fun of it. It must be a day that ends with Y.”

“Whatever else you got, get it out now.” Vin pulls the car into a parallel space along a nearly deserted street lined with designer shops. He pushes the gearshift into park and turns to me with a mocking smile. “The next step is slapping Duct tape over your mouth, which might raise some eyebrows around here.”

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