At this point in my life, I’m not surprised that the woman I chose to marry is the Knoxville Bears’ owner’s granddaughter.
My whole life has been a collection of What the fuck.
This moment included.
My eye is swollen shut, but I don’t have time to ice it.
Elliot McDavid has a mighty left hook, and I’m unsure how she got me twice. But with a split lip and a busted eye, there is no doubt she did. Oh, and she wants to castrate me, which is just awesome. I need to figure out some way to make her hate me less since I need her help. Especially since I have no clue what to do about Dan Davenport. I truly don’t want to hurt my wife, but now, I have to walk the straight and narrow more than ever. Until this is over. Then all I can hope for is an amicable parting.
And not the shitshow that my life has steadily become.
I’m on autopilot as I take each of her boxes to our shared home. She had moved everything down to the alley, leaving me to carry it all the rest of the way. It doesn’t take me long, and I don’t miss the way her sisters all go quiet each time I come back for a box. I’m sure they’re trying to talk her out of doing what we’re doing. Each time my eyes lock with hers, I give her a reassuring smile, but her returning smile doesn’t reach her eyes. I know she’s struggling. She has been since Elliot and Davenport cornered us.
I’ve gone over the whole exchange more times than it’s healthy to. Each time, a new question arises, but I don’t know how to ask my wife about it. She’s done so much for me, risked more than she should have to—and I want more? That’s not right, nor fair.
Still, what did Elliot mean when she said that they would have to put my wife back together again after this was over. Had someone broken her heart? I could have sworn she claimed that wasn’t true. That she hadn’t been with anyone in a serious manner. It doesn’t matter, though. I’m not owed her past and definitely not her future. I get a year.
Why doesn’t that seem like enough?
Whoa.
I shake my head free of that insane thought and place her last three boxes by the rest. I jog down the stairs and look out at the coffeehouse. We’re packed for the evening rush, people hanging out, and some even working. I head to the counter where my manager Janie is filling an order. I lean on the counter, and she chances me a glance.
She arches her brows. “I’d hate to see the other guy.”
I cover my lip and nod. “It was a girl, and she got me good.”
“I want to meet this girl,” she laughs. “Is it the new wife?”
I shake my head before leaning on my palm. “No, her sister.”
Janie snorts, shaking her head at me. Janie has worked here since we both graduated high school. My dad loved her, and I do too. As a sister, of course. I told her that I got married, and she couldn’t believe it. No one could, really. But here I am, a married man. “You actually did it. I thought you were bullshitting.”
“Nope, real deal. Also, I’ll need your help training her. She’ll take over when I leave.”
Janie shakes her head once more, sorrow on her face. “Your dad is rolling over in his grave, knowing you’ll be leaving the coffeehouse in someone else’s hands.”
“I know,” I say sadly. “But it’s time for me to live for me. I want to follow my dreams. I chose a good wife to carry on the Katzes’ Drippy Drip legacy.”
She nods. “Yeah, I guess. I can’t wait to meet her since I never thought you’d settle down.”
I shrug. “It was bound to happen.”
“Sure,” she agrees, but it’s easy to see she has a lot to say. Since I’ve had enough drama to last me a lifetime today, I don’t ask a thing, and I head around the counter to quickly make a lotus tea for my wife. “But still, it’s a little mind-blowing, to say the least. You, married? After everything we watched our parents go through?”
“Yeah,” I agree, and I wish I could tell her the truth, but I need the story to stick. “She’s different.”
“I’m sure she is if she locked you down.”
Janie’s not wrong. Once I finish the drink, I nod to her. “Thanks.”
“Good luck,” she laughs, her eyes knowing.
“None needed. She’s a good girl. I’m not worried in the slightest.”
She scoffs, brushing her blond hair off her shoulder. “Sure you’re not.”
I ignore that and head out the back, down the alley toward the bookshop. I’m not worried. I know how this is going to go. I’ll do everything to make it easy for Eliza. I’ll make sure she’s happy, and I won’t hurt her. As long as I remember that and focus on my career, I’m good. Everything will be great.