Page 41 of Just My Fake Husband

“You’re invited. And this baby,” I point to the neon pink sticky note. “Is one of kind, so I expect you to save it forever and ever in a scrapbook.”

Her brows go up. “Um. This is your wedding invitation?”

“Yep.” My lips pop on the “p.” “Oh, and you should feel honored because not only are you our witness, but you’re the only other person invited. Besides Skye and Milo, of course.”

Jana frowns, her enviably full brows meeting over her olive eyes. “I . . . don’t know what to say. Except this is kind of pitiful.” She peels the sticky note off her screen and flips it around to the back and to the front again. “You are cordially invited to the wedding of River and Gabriel on Tuesday, August 26th, the year of our Lord . . .” She whips her head up and stares at me. “Year of our Lord?”

“It’s a thing people do sometimes. Be all fancy and official on wedding invites.” I point at her. “What this lacks in aesthetics, it makes up for in flowery language.”

She shakes her head. “Are you okay?” She looks at the “invitation” again. “It says it’s tomorrow.”

“Itistomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be Mrs. Gabriel Tate.” A nervous giggle escapes me.

She peers at me. “You’re acting loopy. Did you take some pills or something?”

I shush her. “Of course not! I’d never do that. You can take a blood sample.” I rotate my arm and offer it to her. “I’m clean.”

She shakes her head and lowers my arm. “I’m not going to take a blood sample. Geez, River. You might have never taken drugs in your life, but you’re not okay. Not at all.”

I take a deep breath. She’s right. I’ve found myself feeling more and more strange as the day has progressed. I got Gabriel’s ring size from Milo, left work early, and bought a ring at the pawn shop in town. So what if it has a decidedly King Arthur vibe? There’s a sword in a stone engraved on it and the inscription inside reads “Excalibur!” But the store owner assured me it was 18 karat gold.

Nothing about it is Gabriel’s taste. Consider it my one act of rebellion in this charade.

And now I’m delivering my one and only wedding invite to Jana while I’m picking up Skye for her transitional care. Skye, by the way, is ecstatic about this wedding. Maggie, my coworker, kindly brought me since I still don’t have my car back.

I had to do a whole thing straight out of Jack Ryan. I asked her to wait in the car while I went into the music store, walked straight through to the back, and then next door to the pawn shop to buy the ring. And then back the way I came.

I can’t believe it actually worked.

“Of course I’m not okay. I’m packing up my family home, I’ve managed to box up all my journals somewhere so I can’t even write any of this out, and I’m marrying someone I barely know. And that someone’s father totally loathes me.” My voice descends into a whisper. “You wouldn’t be okay, either.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

I turn my neck so I can see out into the hall, where framed photos of the residents through the years hang. They’re smiling and happy. They’re as independent as they can be.

“Yes, I do.”

Jana understands I’m not going to back out now. “I know,” she says in a resigned voice.

“You were excited for me when you dragged me to Denver to buy a dress. Why not now?”

“Hey, I’m just taking my cues from you. If you were excited, then I’d be excited for you.”

“I’d have to be delusional to be excited.” I snap my fingers. “But you know what? Actually, Iamexcited. Excited that Skye will finally stop begging to come live here. And that I woke up to movers this morning, Jana. Movers! They’re pros. I don’t even know where Gabriel found them, but they come in and finish packing your stuff for you. And they’re all careful and preciseand have spreadsheets about the boxes. I’m telling you, I’ll never want to move like a poor peasant again!”

“So you’re saying your handsome and lovely fiancé is spoiling you rotten?”

“I hope Markus doesn’t feel less than.”

Jana snorts. “Girl, my man has a healthy self-esteem.” She laughs. “By the way, Skye did good today. Real good. She’s going to thrive here.”

My eyes burn with tears. “Part of me hopes so. The other part of me hopes she hates it and comes back to me.” I give Jana a hug. “Don’t forget. Four fifteen at the county courthouse, okay?”

“How could I forget?”

“The moving company is bringing Skye’s stuff over here tomorrow morning and then it will be official. Bring your camera so we can have photographic evidence of the wedding. This motha’s happening.” I try to brighten in a smile. I lower my voice so I’m practically only mouthing the wordsI’mgetting married.

I take a deep breath and go down the back hall to the game room, where Skye’s playing cards with a group of women. They’re talking and laughing, and I stand just out of sight for a moment, hearing Skye’s lyrical voice talking about how she used to do grass art in our backyard. Basically, my parents let her use big buckets of biodegradable, homemade finger paints and she’d splash it all over the lawn and make cool designs. I notice she fails to mention how she got in trouble for dipping our cat, Tiger’s, paws and tail in the paint.

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