Page 53 of Miss Understood

Right now, I wish I hadn’t gotten out of bed this morning. Serena might be much younger, but she’s always seen right through me.

“I’m her boss,” I tell my sister. “It looks bad if I’m screwing my subordinate. We’re just avoiding a potential HR nightmare. But that’s it. It’s not a real relationship.”

“She’s your wife,” Serena argues.

“Right now, yes,” I say.

“And now you’re screwing her?”

“I didn’t say that.”

The corner of her lip ticks up. “You didn’t have to. That little bob in your throat gave you away. It always happens when you’re lying.” Serena points a zebra nail at my neck and smiles.

“It’s complicated.” I lay my napkin in my lap as the waitress comes by to fill our waters. I wait for her to finish pouring before continuing what’s turned into an argument way too early in the day.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like coffee?” the waitress says, her stare pinned on me.

“We’re good,” Serena answers for us, shooing the waitress away.

She’s never been subtle about her feelings.

“Continue.” Serena waves me on. “You, Luce, naked tango, or whatever you old folks do these days.” She can’t help but point out I’m in my thirties every chance she gets, but I let it go.

“It doesn’t matter what we are or aren’t doing. This is a mutually beneficial temporary arrangement.”

“And how long do you plan on keeping this up?” Serena narrows her gaze at me.

I shrug. “It’s not like we’ve circled a date on the calendar. But I guess once we finish our case, it won’t matter. People will be focused on other things. Besides, all marriages fizzle out; they’ll expect a split eventually.”

“Says the jaded divorce attorney.” Serena shoots me an irritated glare.

“I’ve seen enough of it.” I take a sip of my water.

“What if it doesn’t though?” Her eyes snap back to me. “Fizzle out.” The words almost bubble on her tongue. “You can sit here and tell me it’s a fake marriage all you want, and maybe it is. But it’s a real relationship.”

Serena points her fork at me, and it feels a lot like she’s trying to break me with the honest truth.

“Luce doesn’t do relationships, especially with me.” I try to say it without grinding my teeth. “And that’s for the best, because I don’t do them either. We aren’t young and dumb, we both know where the lines are. Neither of us are dumb enough to get attached.”

My defenses are flying up, but I’m not sure if it’s toward Serena or the situation itself. From the beginning, I honestly believed I could keep my feelings out of this. There might have been sexual tension, but Luce and I never got along, so it didn’t seem like it would be that difficult to keep the relationship strictly business. But that all changed the first time I kissed her. The match had been lit, and I was a dry forest ready to go up in flames.

But now I’m walking on coals. Because no matter what changes inside me or how Luce makes me feel, I know where I stand with her—she’s been perfectly clear. We’re riding out our time until our mutually-agreed-upon parting. The sex is just that: physical. She’s not ready to offer more. And I’m not ready either.

Right?

Serena plants her palms flat on the table. Her expression is no longer inquisitive. “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” she says, and I realize there’s a hint of pity in her voice. “There’s something different about how you are around her. And if you want to know the truth, I think she feels something more for you too. But you’re both just too caught up in your heads to see it. So, yes, have fun. But be careful, okay?”

She reaches out and covers my hand with hers. I hadn’t even realized it was clenched against the tablecloth until her touch relaxes it.

“Promise,” I tell her, winding up the knot in my stomach.

The food arrives and Serena leans back, dropping the subject, focusing on her food. But I’m no longer hungry, and there’s a sick feeling in my gut.

Knowing Serena’s right and knowing what to do about it are two different things. It’s not like Luce and I walked into this relationship the way anyone else would. We were thrown in headfirst. And three weeks in, we’re both still trying to figure out up from down. But what does it say that there’s no one else I’d rather be in this with than her? That from the moment I found out we were married, I wasn’t upset about it?

That I honestly don’t care anymore about the impact any of this will have on me or my career, as long as I don’t hurt her in the end?

There used to be separation between what we were doing and what we told the world. Now it’s getting blurry. Because as much as I didn’t want or expect this to happen, I’m catching feelings for my wife.

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