Page 20 of It's Holy Matrimony, Baby

“He said she was the best thing that ever happened to him, and if that meant he’d spend every day for the rest of his life trying to be good enough for her, then that was what he was going to do.”

“And then he kissed her?” Her voice crackles, eager for the happy ending. Anticipating it.

“No,” I say, drawing away. “She kissed him. She leaped at him, kissing him before he could comprehend what was happening. It took him a few seconds to catch on and by then she’d pulled away.”

“Is that all?” Beck sounds disappointed.

“Well, it was a first kiss for her. For him as well. You can’t expect too much.”

“But...that’s really it?”

“No.” I grin. “She went to walk away, and he dragged her back into his arms and made a good deal of their second kiss. But I can’t tell you about that because I didn’t stick around to witness it.” Tried not to witness most of the public displays of affection between my brother and his girlfriend for the next four years.

“I wonder what happened to them. To him.” Beck turns her blue-eyed gaze on me, twisting her torso to face me.

I scratch at my jaw. There’s only so much I can tell her. “He didn’t want to get in the way of her achieving her dreams, I suppose. When her star started rising, it was inevitable that things between them would change.”

“Is he the one you were talking about when you said you knew a guy who thought she might be the devil?”

“He never thought she was the devil. It was just a little joke.”

“Thank you.” Beck touches my arm. “Thank you for telling me the story, and thank you for leaving my hotel room and not making this marriage nonsense more difficult than it has to be.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but there are too many people depending on me to not commit to the deal I made with Liv.

“That’s oka—”

“No.” It doesn’t matter how I try to soften the blow, it’s going to come out wrong. “I’m sorry I had to go to work this morning and that led you to believe that I’m done with being your husband. I meant what I said last night. It’s not going to change.”

Her eyes get real huge, all glittery blue except for her pupils. In them I can see myself, and the horror at the situation we find ourselves in. She takes a breath in. A long, deep breath that makes her tits rise like two balloons. And then she expels it in a flurry of words that aren’t particularly intelligible as she paces in a circle, but the gist is clear. She couldn’t be less happy with the situation. “Why can’t you be reasonable? What can you possibly get out of doing this? Surely this isn’t fun for you.”

“Well, until a couple seconds ago it was kind of enjoyable.” I don’t mean to be an ass, though she must think I do. I’m too tired to formulate a plan, too out of place with her presence all of a sudden. I turn the keys over in my hand. They rattle against each other. Something familiar in this new landscape that takes the edge off. Perhaps I just want to be honest in a situation that calls for dishonesty.

Again she stops and stares at me, her lips parted loosely. “You’re joking. Or confused. This is enjoyable to you?”

“For a minute there.” I look her in the eye. “Yeah, I was enjoying myself.” Probably more than I have these past two years. Or even longer. Except one night in Vegas. “Weren’t you?”

“Wh…You think that...it was just a story. I thought you had changed your mind about torturing me.”

“Torture?” I glance over my shoulder at the truck cab. I’ve put in a full day. All I want is to go home and have a shower and drink a beer. Chill out on my couch and watch some shitty TV. Spend some time in the shed next to the cabin and create with my hands. Instead I have to go teach a couple kids how to play guitar, and then I have to work out how to deal with this woman who clearly has no idea what torture in a relationship is like. “Does that friend of yours—”

“Liv,” she hurries me along.

“Liv. Does she ever tell you that you’re a bit dramatic?”

“Dramatic?” Her voice gets squeaky. She looks about ready to blow her top. “Are you seriously calling me a drama queen?”

“Now, now. I never called you a queen.” I grimace, clasping my hands behind my back and shifting my weight. “I’m just suggesting that you might be going a little too far when you call this situation torture.”

“Is that so? What would you call it?”

“Marriage, for starters.” I shrug while I locate the truck key. “And since I happen to like you, Beck, it’s not exactly a hardship.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re insisting.” She flaps her arms. I bet she wishes she could take off right about now. Just fly out of this town and away from me.

“I guess it’s because if my old man was still here, he’d tell me that some of the greatest things come from the most unlikely places.” Stepping up beside her I take her arm to lead her to the truck. “And he’d tell me that if I could go so far as to put my mother’s wedding band on your finger, the least I can do is find out if it could be worth it.”

---