Page 55 of Matched

An image of Inara laughing in the kitchen surrounded by my dad and sisters fills my head, causing my pulse to skyrocket as my teeth to grind together. It’s maddening the way she’s pushed past my boundaries like this.

She wraps her arms around her waist and drops her gaze to the ground. “He caught me off guard.”

“I don’t talk to him much. Haven’t for a long time. But whatever, it’s not that big of a deal. I was going to have to tell him sometime. Now, my sisters on the other hand... I may just leave you to fend them off yourself.” With effort, I reach out and tweak the tip of her nose, attempting to let my frustration go.

She giggles, then turns and places a hand against my chest. “That’s not all. He told me you haven’t been returning his calls about the fundraiser. I agreed that we’d help him host it here, at Shaken & Stirred.”

I stare at her, uncomprehending at first. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? You did what exactly?”

She sets her ice cream cup aside and moves her hand on my arm. “I agreed to help your dad set up his Zumba fundraiser.”

My throat constricts, making it difficult to swallow or breathe. What would Mamá think of you now? a sneaky little voice in my head asks. When your new wife, the one you didn’t even tell your dad about, talks to your dad more than you do?

That’s just it. I don’t want Inara talking to my dad. Not a little, not at all. She needs to worry about her own family and leave mine alone. The anger that I’d just managed to push away comes roaring back. It’s one thing to answer my phone, and another to tell my dad we’re married, but what the hell is with this conspiracy crap? “You guys are planning shit behind my back?”

“I was only trying to help. He sounded so excited and proud. He really wants you to be a part of it. And I think it would be good for you, a way to help heal. I’ll support you however you need me to.”

Her voice is so careful, so sympathetic. Like the way my teachers used to speak to me when I’d act out in class after my mother died. Like she thinks I’m a little kid. What. The. Fuck. I don’t need her pity, and I sure as hell don’t need her interfering with my family. “Heal? I’m not a patient in a hospital. I don’t need to heal. And support, really? That’s what you call blindsiding me with this?”

My body goes cold, yet at the same time, a fire burns in my chest. She said heal. HEAL. Like there’s something wrong with me. Something broken that needs fixing. Which is bullshit. I don’t need to heal. What I need is for her to quit inserting herself into my life, like she’s here to stay. Because she’s not.

I want to howl. Scream. Instead, I swallow and clench my jaw so tight my molars might crack from the pressure. This is my fault. From the start, I knew better than to put my hopes into a long-term relationship. I grab the water bottle and take a long swig in an effort to keep my anger under control, but it’s in vain. “This whole thing was a mistake.”

She winces and places a hand on my forearm as I stand up. “I’m so sorry, you’re right. I should have talked to you first. Your dad seemed so nice though, and I got caught up in the moment. I made a mistake.”

I jerk my arm away from her, hating the feel of her skin on mine right now. “No, not just this time, this whole thing. It was a mistake to ever talk to my dad in the first place. A mistake for you to answer my phone and stick your nose in my personal business, to try to worm your way into my life permanently. A mistake to think this could ever work between us. But the biggest mistake in my life? That was the day I signed up to join this stupid program.”

Tears gather in the corners of Inara’s eyes. “Tony, please. I know you’re upset, but we can work through this. I want to be with you. And not just for a year, but after that as well. I want to grow old with you.”

“You only want me because you can’t afford your goddamn rent anymore. Which is fine. Hell, it’s better than the reasons I signed up for IPP, which by the way was because I had a momentary lapse of sanity when I was lonely and feeling sorry for myself. Not because I lost a card game. And at least be honest about how you’re using me—the same way I’m using you to get into OCS.”

She rears back as if I’d slapped her. Her face drains of color and her lower lip trembles. Tears streak down her face. Somewhere, beneath the ugly storm of emotions assaulting me, regret twists in my heart. But then she wipes her face quickly and looks at something over my shoulder. Someone clears their throat, and I spin around.

Fuck me.

Of course, Redding just had to show up at that very moment. And next to him is one of the IPP program committee members from my original interview. And just like that, my chances at getting into OCS are shot straight to hell, along with the rest of my career.

Biggest fucking mistake ever.

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