Page 102 of The Accidental Honeymoon

Ryan shuts the door and shuffles after me as I pace the living room. "Who’s leaving? What papers?"

"The annulment papers! Calla!” I throw my hands in the air. “She thinks she can just walk away and I won’t even notice?"

Ryan sinks into a couch, his eyes still half-closed. He takes another sip from his mug, then sets it down on a cluttered coffee table. "Wait. Back up. What’s going on?"

I stop pacing and look at my best friend. “Ah. Yeah.”

“Seriously.” He waves a hand. “You’re going to have to graduate from monosyllables.”

Briefly, I break down the pact between me and Calla. Three months, no real feelings, then I would announce that it was all a joke.

By the time I finish, his face is contorted with confusion. “Wait, wait. Why did you need to do this again?”

“Because my sponsors expected me and my new spouse to do the honeymoon road trip. But when I accidentally married Calla instead of Blake…”

He shakes his head and waves a hand. “What did Calla get out of it?”

“Just exposure.” I can feel my cheeks heating. “Her bakery needed it.”

“Uh huh. And while you were busy fooling all of us, you started to really like each other?”

“Yeah. But now she’s gone. There is still another week to go in the three months we’d agreed on. She didn’t wait around to talk it through with me.” I suck in a deep breath. “Maybe she thinks it’s not worth the trouble. Maybe she thinksI’mnot worth the trouble."

Ryan rubs his face, the sleep slowly draining from his features. "Okay, so you’re in deeper than you let on. Are you saying you actually have feelings for her now?"

"I don’t know. Yes?”

“That’s certainly very clear. I can see why she skedaddled,” he snarks, arching a brow. “So, which is it? Do you love her or not?”

I rub the back of my neck. “Yes.”

The last remnants of sleepiness in Ryan's expression are replaced by genuine concern. He leans forward, elbows on knees. "Jay, man. You know I’m here for you. But you’ve got to be honest with yourself. Do you really want to be with her? Or are you just scared of the fallout?"

"All I know is that I can’t just let her walk away without trying to make it work. She’s my wife, Ryan."

Ryan stands, stretches, and picks up his "World's Okayest Friend" mug, then starts heading into his kitchen. "Look, from what I’ve seen, she’s a smart and practical woman. She’s not going to bail without a good reason. And the way you two have been... I mean, it looked pretty real to me."

I feel a tightness in my chest, a mix of hope and dread. "You think she’ll change her mind?"

Ryan turns, leaning against the counter, mug in hand. "I think she’s scared, just like you are. But yeah, I think she’ll come around. The question is, will you?"

The weight of his words settle on me. I know he’s right. This isn’t just about convincing Calla. It’s about convincing myself.

"I have to try," I say. “Calla’s only been gone an hour and I already miss her worse than you could ever know.”

Ryan walks back to the living room and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Then go. Talk to her. But remember, this isn’t just a business arrangement anymore. If you’re going to make a real go of it, you need to be all in. Don’t make any bargains or haggle with her. Just tell her how you feel."

"Thanks, man," I say, turning to the door.

"Hey, that mug isn’t a lie, you know!" he calls after me.

For the first time this morning, I smile. "I know. You're the best okayest friend a guy could have."

thirty-seven

CALLA

Half a dozen A-lineskirts lie in a colorful heap on my bed. They battle for supremacy with an army of Converse sneakers and a mountain of sleek tops. I’m in full triage mode, trying to salvage my wardrobe from the carnage of my last-minute packing. A half-eaten Danish teeters on the edge of my dresser. I shove it in my mouth, crumbs exploding like confetti, and chew furiously.

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