Page 97 of Just My Fake Husband

Chapter 34

River

“Let’s see if Skye’s interested in coming over regularly for Sunday dinner,” Gabriel says after we drop her off at Caring Souls.

“Short, regular visits will probably be best for her,” I agree. I didn’t mistake the subtle signs of anxiety she showed on the drive and while at the cottage. Sure, she needs time to get used to the new place, but it’s more than that.

I think Caring Souls is where she belongs now.

The thought isn’t surprising. I’ve been wrestling with it for a long time. What is surprising is the way the words feel on my tongue when I say them out loud.

“Gabriel, she doesn’t belong with me anymore.” I grip the car door handle, steadying myself as I work through this newterritory. “We’ll always be sisters. She’ll forever be greatly important to me. She’ll always be in my life.” My breathing is normal, in and out, in and out. “But I’m letting go.” My eyes burn. Those dumb tears. I’ve been dealing with them on the daily, it seems.

But why wouldn’t I? I don’t think I let myself cry enough after losing my parents. And with all the huge changes I’ve been experiencing, it feels good to allow them to come when they need to.

“I’m here for you as you go through that process, River. There will probably be a lot of ups and downs with it.”

“I’m sure there will be. And what about you? Want to talk about how things went down today?”

“I do, but first, can I buy you some food?” he asks. “I’m starving after all this drama.”

“I’m hungry, too.”

His darkened gaze meets mine before he looks back at the road. “River, will you go on a date with me?”

“’Bout time. We’ve already gotten married and kissed—a lot—and said our I love yous. Might as well back all the way up and get to that basic first date.”

“Oh, there’s nothing basic about it,” he assures me.

He calls a pizza place in town and places a takeout order. I strongly encourage him to include breadsticks and lemonade, and he does, throwing in some cinnamon bread twists at the last minute. What Longdale lacks in number of good restaurants, they make up for in quality. This pizza’s the best around, and I can’t wait to gorge.

When he misses the turn for Lakeside Road, I hold up a finger. “We’re not going home?”

“I thought we’d have a picnic.”

“Oh, really?” Which comes out in a purr. I’m aware I’m flirting with my husband and that being around him makes me feel aliveand brand new. And at the same time, exactly like myself in ways I’ve never known before.

I’m not prepared when he pulls into my old neighborhood, giant cottonwoods that dwarf the ramblers, where everyone has a unique, sometimes kitschy mailbox. Where I learned to ride a bike, graffitied the sidewalks with chalk, and talked about boys with my friends on trampolines under the stars.

Right before the last turn to my former home, I place my hand on his arm at the stop sign. “Why are we here? I don’t know if my heart can take it right now.”

I’m trying to let go of Skye—a little at a time because, you know, baby steps. And I’m also trying to let go of my dad’s old car. I don’t know about seeing the house that I was forced to give up.

“I had some good news and thought I’d deliver it at your old place.”

“Okay—” I’m confused but I trust him. And that makes butterflies tickle my insides.

We pull up, the red brick swimming in my vision as I resolve to enjoy my first date. But—“I’ll get the picnic supplies,” he says before putting the Bronco in Park and hurrying out.

When he comes around to my side of the car, a big blanket and paper products in his arms, I roll down my window.

“I don’t know if we should have a picnic on these people’s lawn, Gabriel.” I feel my face sliding into a cringe expression.

“I talked to them about it. It’s fine with them. They haven’t even moved in yet.”

“You talked to them? How?”

He deposits the supplies on the grass and then jogs back to the car, opens the back seat and grabs the boxes of food.

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