Page 55 of Just My Fake Husband

“Nah. I’m all good.” And I am. Something about having my new fake bride fall on me has invigorated me wide awake. “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride,” she says. “We spend our first night together going to sleep early and the second night, I fall on you and probably break your bed. Not a good track record.”

“I like it. It keeps me on my toes. And the language? Who knew this marriage would be so funny?”

“I’ll give you something funny.” She brandishes a small fist, offering a shy smile before dropping it.

I ease over so that my back is against the front of the sofa. “How’s Skye?”

A faint bubble of laughter comes up. “Giddy.” She tells me about how they set up her room and that Jana brought the dog and how excited Skye was to see her.

“Lunch Lady Liz. Not me. She wasn’t excited to see me.” She hides a yawn behind her hand. “What if I broke your air mattress?”

I lean over and press my hand on it. “It’s totally fine.”

She palpitates the mattress, too. “I hope it stays that way.” She reaches over to squeeze my upper arm before she gets up off the floor and pads to the bathroom.

It was an arm squeeze. Barely anything.

But from River? That little arm squeeze feels significant.

I wake at two a.m., my back flat on a hard surface. Great. The mattress has completely deflated. I should have had a back-up plan, but I’ve been a little busy getting married and introducingRiver as my bride to half my family. And I couldn’t have predicted that River would topple over on me.

It was worth a flattened air mattress, hundred percent.

Thoughts of her give way to thoughts of my family again. How they stared at us throws me, jabbing at my consciousness through the impossibility of sleep. I’m going to have to introduce her to my dad, as my wife.

I can’t stop thinking about River, asleep in the bedroom. So close, yet so far away. Did I miss hanging out with her tonight? How is it that I’ve already gotten used to being with her, and when she’s not here, I’m wishing she was?

This wasn’t supposed to happen, especially not so soon in the process.

I move from my flat position on the floor to the bathroom but that’s even more uncomfortable. I decide to sit on the sofa, lean my head back, and hope for the best.

“Gabriel?” River’s voice is soft and unlike earlier, I didn’t hear her coming. Maybe I’d dozed off. A glance at the wall clock tells me no, as it’s only been a few minutes since I woke up the first time.

“Hey, River,” I say, watching as her sleepy form comes into view. She’s got the comforter wrapped around her. “What are you doing up?”

“I heard some movement. Which I guess is karma for how I fell on you earlier.”

“Falling on me was not a big deal. And I apologize, I didn’t realize I was being that loud,” I say.

“It was probably because I had to go to the bathroom.”

I laugh. “Maybe that’s been my problem, too.”

“We should turn the fountain off. The trickling water can’t be helping that situation.”

“Stop,” I say. “Saying the words, trickling water, is going to make me have to go again.”

She giggles like a song from nursery school. Playful. “Now I have a weapon I can use against you: trickling water, trickling water.”

I spring from the sofa like I’m going to tickle her, and she squeals and jumps back. “Bathroom!” River insists and she flings her comforter toward me. “Here, I wanted to see if this made your bed more comfortable or not, but . . .” She gasps. “It’s completely flat!”

I catch the comforter, but I’m waylaid by the fact that she’s put that same purple bathrobe on from before. She seems to notice where my eyes land because she folds her arms. “We have to come up with a solution for the bed situation, Gabriel.” She shakes her head and holds up a finger. “But hold that thought for a moment.”

In my mind, beyond my control, comes images of our wedding yesterday. It wasn’t much of a wedding, just Milo saying a few words and us signing the papers. But I remember how she felt in my arms as we posed for pictures. Standing behind her, I not only got to see the smooth, tan skin of her neck and cheek, but I was so close I could feel the warmth under my fingertips. As it was, I did absorb the texture of the fabric of her dress on her waist, and how she felt through it, soft and strong.

River is not skinny. She’s curvy in such a way that I just want to . . .

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