Page 54 of Just My Fake Husband

“My head’s sort of spinning with possibilities,” River confesses, leaning towards the phone in my outstretched hand.“I’m not sure about the food and colors and such since we hadn’t planned on this. But it’s great. I’m thankful you’re willing to do this for us.” Her gaze meets mine with a pleading as if asking,What have we gotten ourselves into?

“Let’s go out to lunch, you and me,” Mom says. “How about Friday? Can you take a lunch break at noon? I’ll come to Longdale and we’ll discuss everything then.” It’s as if something occurs to her at that moment. “I don’t want to step on toes or make assumptions. You know how I like to throw a good party.”

“It’s great. We appreciate it,” River says.

Mom tells us she’s happy for us before saying goodbye. I can barely say anything around the lump in my throat.

I don’t want to disappoint my mom. But maybe this will all be okay in the long run. If I can prove to my father and the board that I’m settled and trustworthy, that I’ve learned from my mistakes, then I’ll get the company. Mom will definitely be thrilled with that.

This is a means to an end.

The rest of the workday goes by surprisingly fast and nothing about the events of the morning are even mentioned at all. There’s a business as usual vibe in the air. River’s on her computer perched on a pillow in her lap on one of the loveseats and I’m at the banquette doing my freelance work. Little is said, but I’m aware of it all: the way she absently wraps her hair around a finger, her low chuckle at something on her phone, the way she can’t sit still to save her life, always wiggling and moving and changing positions.

We eat leftovers from last night. I wash the dishes, and she takes out the garbage.

Right before five, she sets her laptop on the coffee table and stands. “Jana’s picking me up now. We’re going to spend some time with Skye and help her get her room set up.”

She’s in and out of the bedroom, dressed in a sweater, jeans, and boots, and I’m still sitting there at the banquette, trying to figure out what to do or say. Do I give her a hug goodbye?

I stand to walk her to the door, and we end up doing an awkward high five again. This time, it’s not just an “air” one, it’s the real deal.

Wow, look at us. At this rate, we might be kissing regularly in, oh, a couple of months.

An hour after she leaves, she texts me.

River:Jana will bring me home.Don’t wait up.

It’s going to be a little hard not to since my bedroom is the living room, dining room, and kitchen combined, but it should be okay. It’s after eleven when I hear the key turn in the lock of the mudroom door.

It’s obvious she’s trying not to wake me since the door closes slowly and her footfalls are light, like she’s tiptoeing. I hear the soft thunk of one of her shoes hitting the floor, a little groan, and then she must set the other shoe down much quieter because I don’t hear that one. She reaches the kitchen floor, and her keys drop straight to the tiles, making a splat-like sound. She swears in whisper form, and I can’t help but smile. I lace my fingers behind my head. It’s fun listening to her bumble around.

I should tell her I’m awake and she’s free to flip on all the lights she needs, but I don’t know if me suddenly saying something would startle her. And I can’t just get up and turn the light on because that could scare her, too.

I hear her bump her knee on something, probably the banquette seating since it sticks out a little, and she swears again.

“For pity’s sake . . .” I hear her whisper to herself, causing a muted chuckle from me.

For pity’s sake? Her choice of words has me clamping a hand over my own mouth to stifle my laugh.

River is like trying black licorice ice cream for the first time. I didn’t want it, but one of my brothers convinced me to get it at the shake shop here in Longdale one time. The first bite? Not what I was expecting. But I couldn’t even explain what I’d been expecting. The second and third bite? Same thing. Just sort of weird. Then the next few bites were an exploration ofHow come this works?Andwhat even is that texture?Until, finally, I realize I’m halfway done with the thick, over-the-rim shake, and I want to polish this one off and order another one.

That’s River. Always unexpected. Complex. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to be done.

I feel before I hear a jolt to my bed and an audible gasp. Then the groan of the plastic of the air mattress and suddenly, she’s right on top of me.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa!” she says, and in the dark I can see her wide eyes. Her soft body is pressed on me. She clamors for something she can put her hands on to get up from this embarrassing scenario, but everywhere her hands go just makes things worse. She’s pawing at my chest and trying to get up from on top of me, but I pitch a hard right, taking her with me. The mattress squeaks.

We roll, in slow motion, my arms around her waist, off the mattress and onto the floor.

“Gabriel!” she screams as she gets some solid consistency with her hands now that they’re on the actual hardwood floor instead of the puffed plastic marshmallow.

As soon as she’s off me and kneeling, I sit up. “What an entrance!”

She scowls in the moonlight filtering through the high windows. “I’m sorry. I was trying to make my way without any lights on.”

“Obviously.”

She only scowls deeper and places a hand on my knee. “Did I hurt you?”

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