Page 97 of The Accidental Honeymoon

But first, I need to sign those damned annulment papers… if I can bring myself to do it.

thirty-four

CALLA

I stand in the kitchen,purposefully not looking at my husband, who clearly wants to talk.

My soon-to-be-ex-husband.

I’m currently following Cora’s advice to get all my ducks in a row before making any moves. It feels sneaky and a little dishonest. But to put it in Cora’s words, I have to be ready ‘before I pull the plug.’ It’s the advice that she gives all of her divorcing clients.

She didn’t give any advice on how to ignore someone who is trying to get your attention though, so after another moment of trying to look engrossed by the woodgrain in the table, I look up at him. “Hey. What’s up?” I try to sound nonchalant. Like I’m not dying inside or anything.

“What happened to you last night? I was hoping that we could talk.”

I fidget. “I slept at my apartment. I worked until really late and just crashed there.”

A lie. I cried in Cora’s office for two hours and then spent the rest of the day slumpedin my bed.

“Ah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I wanted to?—"

Jay’s phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. He walks over and glances at the screen. “Shit,” he mutters.

“You wanted to—?” I prompt.

He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it further, and shakes his head. "I need to ask a favor."

I raise an eyebrow. OfcourseJay needs a favor. The whole arrangement is one big favor, isn’t it?

"I have a sponsor who’s getting antsy," he says, holding up his phone as if it’s Exhibit A in a court case. "I need to do a quick shoot at the Roadkill Café & Gift Emporium. They’re a huge sponsor and willing to pay big time money. I promise, it won’t take long. But I need you to come with me. They’ve seen our content and want us both there."

I stare at Jay. Over the past two months I’ve acted my heart out and, in the process, every touch, every kiss became real. Jay isn’t held captive by the same feelings.

That’s why I have to leave.

"I have a client meeting this afternoon. The Jensen-Barkley wedding. It's kind of important."

He’s close enough now that I can see the stubble on his chin. It’s the kind that grows in after a day of not caring. On anyone else it might look sloppy. But on him? It just adds to his annoyingly effortless charm.

He’s sohotthat I want to punch him.

"Calla, please?” There’s a softness in his eyes that makes me look down at my Converse-clad feet. "I promise we’ll be quick. This is important for me. For us."

I bite the inside of my cheek. I have no idea how things will be after we pull the trigger on our annulment. This could be one of our last days together. I love Jay and thethought of leaving him high and dry is shredding my stomach lining.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

He lights up like I’ve just given him a birthday gift. Another tiny piece of my soul flies away.

When we finally drive to the perimeter of Atlanta, The Roadkill Café & Gift Emporium is every bit as ridiculous as its name suggests. The exterior looks like a cross between a log cabin and a cartoon. There are oversized animal tracks painted on the walls and a giant, neon raccoon sign that flickers ominously.

Inside, the décor is a shrine to bad taste. It’s filled with dusty taxidermied animals posed in absurd, anthropomorphic scenarios. In particular, I notice a poker-playing possum and a raccoon in a rocking chair. A peculiar smell wafts through the air, a mix of old wood and mystery meat.

Gross. I make a note that I don’t want to try the cheeseburgers here.

I stand just inside the doo with my arms wrapped around myself in an attempt to ward off the ‘ambiance’. Jay strides past me with the confidence of a man who’s never met a themed restaurant he didn’t like.

"Can you believe this place?" he says, grinning like a kid in a very morbid candy store. "‘We scrape it, you eat it.’ Classic."

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