Page 15 of The Pucking Fake Marriage

Her look is even more confused. Emotions are roaring in my chest, but I refuse to translate them into words. She’s never going to understand why I couldn’t let Ken knowabout the marriage. Instead of trying to explain, I reach for the marriage certificate, which is on the small coffee table between us. The document feels like a ray of sunshine in my hands, and I know why. I can get my future back with it, create a life that finally pleases my parents.

Still, internalizing the fact that I’m married to Ken makes me want to scream and pull out my hair. Especially after the scene at the restaurant. After his threat. My heart beats a little faster at that, but I push the thought out of my mind. Ken can’t just keep showing up to terrify me. Not just because it means I could have sex with him again. But because hecan’tfind out about my ploy. Not yet.

I can prevent him from showing up, somehow. Iwillprevent it.

“Just think of what getting a loan will do for our business,” I say to Haley, trying to get her to focus. “We’ll start renovating, rebranding. It’s going to be good, you’ll see.”

Still don’t know how I’m going to get an annulment from Ken without letting him know, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Haley shrugs. She doesn’t sound as excited as I would like her to be. She looks around our dumpy little living room. “We should start by getting a better apartment.”

I nod as Haley, seemingly satisfied, reaches for the remote control, dumping herself in front of the recliner. I’m on the verge of experiencing relief about the inquisition being over when she turns back to me.

“I don’t know how you’re certain he doesn’t know that you got married. I mean, he might’ve been furious with you because of that.”

“He doesn’t.” I sound surer than I really am, but I hope it’s the truth. “He was drinking more than I was, and I…”And since we ended up banging in a garden just outside the chapel, it’s more than likely he forgot everything else.

Haley’s green eyes narrow suspiciously under her black bangs. “And you what?” It sounds like she’s gotten to her conclusion already. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh my God.” The words come out in a scream, but she’s grinning. “You screwed him, didn’t you? That’s how you got him to do this in the first place.”

My cheeks turn pink. “Haley, I…”

“I can’t believe it,” she screeches, jumping to her feet. “That’s why he’s freaking pissed. Cause you screwed him and abandoned him in Las Vegas. That’s all he can remember.”

“I—”

“Did you like it?”

This conversation is easily becoming the worst one I’ve ever had. Unbidden, a memory comes sliding up my mind, Ken’s mouth taking my nipple, sucking at it. I close my eyes, trying to will the thoughts away. When I blink them open, Haley is staring at me.

“It was fine.” My voice is prim, proper. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Haley rolls her eyes and turns back to the TV. It’s clear she knows what the answer is. She finally turns it on, switching channels, until she arrives on a ballet performance.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this,” she cries. “The Philadelphia Ballet’sSwan Lake!”

My ankle throbs with phantom pain. Even after all these years, there’s a ball lodged in my throat as I watch the young women on stage, dancing gracefully with their arms outstretched over their white tutus.

Haley’s eyes are still glued to the TV. “I used to beg my mom to register me in ballet classes. I was desperate to be one of them. She always said I was too tall and too old. Most girls start training when they are five, apparently. I only learned about them when I turned ten.”

“I used to practice ballet.” My voice sounds odd, distorted.

Haley turns to me, her eyes wide. “Really? I had no idea.”

“I don’t talk about it much.” The ball in my throat is growing larger, and I suddenly feel the urge to shield myself from her gaze.

Haley’s look turns sympathetic. “Why? Did you hate it? I know a lot of girls say they were forced into it by their mothers.”

“No.” I finally swallow. “I broke my ankle when I was eighteen. It healed, but I could never dance again.”

“Oh.” Haley retains her look of sympathy for one more moment before her expression turns nostalgic. “Do you wonder what your life would’ve been like if you hadn’t broken your ankle? You wouldn’t be running the restaurant, that’s for sure. Andwe never would’ve met. Would you have even attended college?”

There’s a strange fire burning in my chest. I force a smile at her. “Probably not.” I keep the smile on until Haley looks away and I can let it slip off my face. I want to look away from the TV, but I can’t find the strength to, so I keep watching the performance, the women whose lives could have been mine.

The piece goes on for another twenty minutes, and once, I think I glimpse Kali in Prince Siegfried. I know that’s ridiculous because he’s left the PBT years ago to start a private ballet school.

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