Page 27 of Pucks, Lies, and Sticktape

“I’m not,” Dustin said easily.

Matthieu swallowed hard, his throat dry. The words felt massive and impossible, like they would shatter the moment they left his lips.

“How firm is the whole ‘marriage’ thing on the contract?”

Dustin stilled beside him. The air shifted, tightening. When he finally spoke, his voice was blunt, razor-sharp.

“What are you saying?”

Matthieu felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Nothing,” he blurted out, unwilling to let it slip any further the secret he shared with Jeannie – because if that secret got out, then everything was over. His job, his marriage, his future, herfriendship… and right now, he wasn’t sure which of those was more terrifying to lose.

Six grueling hours later, his body was exhausted, and his mind was still rolling around all the possibilities in his head. If he married Jeannie for real, what if she decided six months from now that she wasn’t interested in him? He sure didn’t want to be divorced at such a young age – much less married. Marriage meant no more having fun on the weekends, no more parties, no more wild dates, and divorce would be ten times worse.

When he heard a girl was divorced, the first thing that hit his mind was ‘what happened’ – being divorced was like marking ‘rejected’ across you somewhere or ‘I-make-bad-life-choices’… wasn’t it?

The problem was that living with Jeannie felt like the best ‘life choice’ he’d ever made. His mind kept flip-flopping back and forth with the game tomorrow. He just wanted to rest, relax, maybe soak in a bath or something and walked into the house, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter before grabbing a glass of water.

He was gulping it down when Jeannie walked into the room – dressed and ready to go – and he remembered at that moment, he’d asked her out.

The water he just drank sprayed everywhere in horror in front of him like a massive fan —arcing across the sink. Her eyes widened in shock, and he cussed, saying a foul word openly between them.

“I forgot…”

“It’s no biggie.”

“Jeannie…”

“I’m not even hungry…”

“Were we going to dinner?”

“I thought you asked me to dinner…”

“I asked you out – and well – I guess that could be dinner. I’m sorry, I completely forgot with the game tomorrow and…”

“It’s fine, Matthieu,” she said calmly, like she didn’t have a care in the world, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I was in the middle of something anyhow, and I really didn’t want to lose my place.”

“Phew… I mean, that’s good, I guess.”

“Exactly.”

“I feel bad,” he admitted carefully and saw her wave him off. “Jeannie…”

“Seriously – don’t apologize. It was nothing, you know?” And she was already turning away to go back to her room to change.

He saw the flowing material of her skirt swishing gently from the sway of her hips and felt like an even bigger heel.

Sheneverdressed up.

Jeannie was always in jeans, leggings, or even scrubs – which surprised him. He asked her about the scrubs once, and she shrugged, saying whatever she found on clearance that served a function.

Jeannie had dressed up for him. She had put in the effort. His practical, no-nonsense Jeannie, who rarely paid attention to frills or fuss, had taken the time to look beautiful tonight—for him.

And what had he done?

Let her down.

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