Page 69 of Perfect Boy

Opening my eyes, I frown at the second set of flowers in his hand. “Who are those for?” I nod toward the lilies. “Do you have a second wife here you failed to mention?”

“Nah, my one wife is plenty for me to handle.” He laughs before looking down at the flowers oddly. “They are for Poppy, I guess. Apparently, she has a secret admirer. One who wanted her to have these.” He shrugs. “Do you want to give them to her?”

I don’t see a card, and I don’t ask him who they are from because if he wanted me to know, he would have said. But like me, Poppy never has any family in the stands, watching her perform. So, I love the very fact that someone is giving her flowers.

“Sure,” I say, reaching for them. “These will make her happy.”

“Thanks, beautiful.” He smiles. Bending down one more time, he kisses me. “Good luck, Tiny Dancer.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, now more nervous than ever.

Watson

Nothing Ryann does could ever be boring. If she’s involved, I’ll always be fully mesmerized by her. She moves with such grace. And as she dances around the stage, it looks so effortless. She makes even the hardest things appear easy. She’s that good.

The past week, practicing for this has kept her so busy that she’s had to have other dancers cover her shifts at Peaches. And I’ve been relieved because I really can’t stand the thought of her working there. I hate thinking that other men’s eyes are on her. And what I hate the most is worrying that she isn’t safe. Who knows what kind of scumbags go in there?

For a fairly short girl, she makes her presence extremely known when she’s on a stage. She captivates the entire crowd, making it hard for anyone—not just her husband—to look away.

I check my screen every now and then to make sure Riley can still see. What I didn’t tell Ryann and what I asked Riley not to mention either is that their mom also wanted to watch the performance. I know Ryann is wary of her mother, but when I called Riley to ask if she wanted to watch through FaceTime, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no when she asked if her mom could watch too.

I didn’t mention to either of them that we were married. I figured, wrong place, wrong time.

Until today, I had never in my life been to a play or watched ballet—aside from our fundraisers. And I’ll admit, if Ryann wasn’t in this show, I probably would have left an hour ago. But as long as she’s dancing, my ass will be right here in this seat.

I watch her spin around, dancing like the weight of the world isn’t on her shoulders.

I’m so in love with that woman. And soon, I need to tell her. It’s time to admit that I didn’t marry her just to help her get her visa. I married her because I couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving the country.

Ryann

Watson closes my door and jogs around to his own. It’s cold out tonight, and he jumps in and blasts the heat.

“You fucking killed it tonight, babe,” he chants, pulling out of the parking lot. “Your sister told me to tell you, and I quote, ‘You were better than everyone else. I love you. Oh, and you should totes wear pink more often because it’s soooo your color!’” He raises his eyebrows, glancing at me quickly. “Her words, not mine.”

I burst out laughing at his impression of a teenage girl, grabbing my stomach. “Okay, noted. Thanks.” I reach over, patting his arm. “Hey, thank you for letting her be a part of it. It felt surprisingly nice to know she was kind of there even though she wasn’t.” I smile.

He looks uneasy, and that makes me instantly nervous. He’s never a guy who seems like he’s hiding something. But right now, I get the feeling he’s going to drop a bomb on me.

“Hey, so…Riley wasn’t the only one who wanted to watch you perform, you know.” He looks back at the road, swallowing thickly. “Your mom, she, uh, was watching too.”

I feel like his words slap me in the face. But still, it takes me time to form a response. Or even a thought. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. Your mom and your sister, they both watched the entire performance.” He grimaces. “I’m sorry to just tell you now.”

His words sting, and I frown. “Did you know that when you came to see me before the show?”

He winces. “Yeah, I did. I just…I was afraid it would make you nervous. I know your mom hasn’t been the best mother to you. And the last thing I wanted was to do something to make you feel anxious before your performance. But when I had called your sister this morning to ask if she’d want to watch it, she put me on the spot about your mother. And I just…I wasn’t sure what to say.” He exhales sharply. “I’m sorry, Ry. I hope you’re not upset with me. But if you are, I understand.”

While the thought of even receiving a letter from my mother has recently made me a ball of nerves, I can tell that Watson truly is feeling bad for keeping this secret. It’s not his fault my sister put him on the spot. I mean, if he had told Riley no…that probably would have made me more upset than my mother watching me perform for the first time.

“Watson, how in the world could I be upset with you?”

“I did something behind your back. And because, in a way, I guess I gave your mom the benefit of the doubt by letting her watch you.” He side-glances me. “I don’t know everything you’ve been through. I want to know, but I don’t want to push you either.” He grips the steering wheel a bit tighter. “But I know enough to know your mom has put you through some shit. And I’d never want you to think I’m excusing her actions. I just didn’t want to hurt Riley’s feelings. I know how much you love your sister. I see your eyes light up when you talk about her. Or how your face grows sad when you’re worried about her. I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m upset my mom snaked her way into a performance that was kind of special to me. Because for my entire life, she’s never watched me a single time—until today.” I sink into my seat. “I want to be mad and curse her out for showing up twenty years too late. I want to scream at her for all the times she dragged home loser boyfriends who would leave emotional scars on both Riley and me. And I really, really want to tell her it’s her fault that I can’t trust easily in my adult life.” I blow all the air from my chest. “I want to, but I won’t. Because for once in her life, my baby sister has an actual mother. And I’m not going to fuck that up.” I turn my body toward him. “Do you know what I hate my mom the most for?”

“What?” he says so quietly that I barely hear him.

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