Page 56 of Perfectly Wedded

Theitbeing my ADHD diagnosis. I received the diagnosis in college, when I was struggling to focus in my classes and my advisor recommended getting tested. When I got the results, it was a surprise to everyone in my family but me. I had the kind that most undiagnosed females have, the typical inattentive type, often labeled as “distracted” and a “daydreamer” by my teachers. It’s why I flew under the radar for so long without a diagnosis. I wasn’t disruptive—I just couldn’t stay focused on a goal and changed my mind too much.

It’s probably the reason I was able to rush into marriage with Vale in Vegas so easily. Taking risks isn’t hard for me. But sticking with something is another deal entirely. Because when I get scared or bored or start to think things won’t work out, I run to the next shiny thing. I get worried people will grow tired of me and I’ll be too much for them. And I don’t want to wait for them to leave me, so I run first.

But I can’t do that to Vale. That’s why I want him to set an end date for our marriage, so both of us know it’s coming. That way, I won’t let myself run away early, and I know Vale will stick around until the end. He’s just that way, the type who keeps a promise, no matter how inconvenient. But his refusal to set a date makes me uneasy. I’m afraid he’ll wake up one day and decide I’m too much work, or he’ll leave me when something better will come along. And I’ll be left behind, just like I was with Anthony. It wasn’t that Anthony no longer cared. It’s that I was a different person after my accident. More needy. Less fun. When he realized that, he started to fade out of my life with excuses about how busy he was. He didn’t have it in him to become the person I needed. I was too much for him, so he moved on. They always do.

Jaz takes her phone out and starts shooting video of the lobby.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to lean out of her shot.

“I'm creating a honeymoon video for us. Once I edit thefootage, we can watch them on our anniversaries each year. That way, we’ll remember this trip for the rest of our lives.”

Something catches in my chest that makes it hard for me to breathe.

For the rest of our lives.

I can’t tell her there’s no future for Vale and me. Once we end our marriage, this video will only be a painful reminder of how much I wanted this to be real.

“The driver is here,” Brax calls and waves us over.

We pile into a taxi, with Jaz, Vale, and me crushed together in the back seat, while Brax sits in the front. The air-conditioning only seems to be half-working, and I feel smothered in the middle seat. Since Vale’s so gigantic, his legs take up my space too. It shouldn’t matter, but it feels like an intimate thing when our knees brush together or the way his thigh presses into mine with every turn. There’s no getting away from touching him when we’re stuffed together like a burrito in the back seat.

We swerve through busy traffic, and the heat stifles me even more, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy. Brax and Vale talk about their plans for the day while Jaz films them on her phone. I stare out the front window, my hand resting on my unsettled stomach. The bitter coffee isn’t sitting right—or maybe it’s because Vale’s sitting too close.

“Sloan, you want to talk on camera about how you’re going to lose the race?” Brax asks.

“What race?” I ask, keeping my eyes glued on the road ahead, willing myself not to throw up.

Vale pats my knee. “The race to reach the snorkeling beach first—we even have bets riding on it.”

Like that’s going to help my unsettled state.

When we pile out of the taxi at the Jet Ski rental, I hang back on a rickety bench as the guys head inside the tiny building to sign waivers.

Jaz sits next to me. “You seem quiet. You feeling okay?” She studies my face in concern.

“Motion sickness,” I groan, closing my eyes.

“You and Vale didn’t have a disagreement?”

I lift my head and look at my sister. “Not a fight exactly.” I hesitate. I can’t tell her what happened, but I can’t hide it either. “Over a stupid thing. I’d rather not talk about it.”

She looks out at the ocean, watching the Jet Skis in the distance jump the waves. “I know it can be overwhelming at first, especially being married to a professional hockey player. But you’re his wife first. No one else gets that title. You get to see him in his weak moments. There’s a lot of pressure in the industry not just to perform, but to become a celebrity. The fans play into that—constantly interrupting every moment you have alone. It takes so much trust to marry an athlete. But that’s the thing about Vale. I know he’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Of course he wouldn’t. Because he’s too good to everyone he meets. When this relationship goes down, everyone will be blaming me for not sticking with him. That’s the part that irks me the most. Vale won’t come out of this looking bad. I will.

Brax and Vale walk out of the rental place with life vests hooked over their hands. “You guys ready to ride?” Brax nods toward the Jet Skis parked off the dock.

Jaz stands. “Yes!” She shimmies out of her cover-up with one quick swipe, revealing a pretty floral bikini underneath. Brax gives her a quick wink and then kisses her on the cheek before helping her with a life vest.

Last night, I wasn’t ready to let Vale see me in a swimsuit, but I’ve realized I just need to get over it—like pulling off a Band-Aid. Taking a cue from my sister, I try to slide off my cover-up the same way, but I’m anything but smooth. It’s a one-piece dress with an elastic waist that immediately shrinks to miniature size when I try to slide it off. My elbow catches on the elastic, trapping me inside the cover-up while it’s halfway over my head. I’m flailing like a fish caught in a net.

“Do you need help there?” Vale asks.

I can barely see him through the gauzy fabric as I wrestle myway out. “I’m good,” I say in that way that women do when they’re too embarrassed to ask for help. When I get the elastic stuck on my ponytail, I finally give up. “Okay, get me out of here.”

He chuckles. “I wondered how long it would take to ask for help.”

He tugs the cover-up off me, like a tablecloth off a table. I’m grateful to be free, until I realize Vale’s eyes are traveling down my now exposed body. My red tankini isn’t too revealing, skimming just above my belly button, but it’s enough that I feel self-conscious with him this close, memorizing every curve.

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