Page 127 of My Wife
She approaches slowly, her smile growing because she can’t help herself. The woman doesn’t know how to be anything but cheerful. Even if she has no interest in actually being my wife, I’ll be her husband. I’ll protect her. I will honor her.
Walking toward me alone, with no father or family other than Dolly to speak of, when she said she’d fallen for mine, a secret part of me thought maybe she’d fallen for me too. But that’s silly. Stupid.
However, when we join hands, a familiar refrain echoes in my head.
Pivot,pivot, pivot.
It makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing. It’s not that I have cold feet or the urge to call this off. More like what if we’re doing this for real? What if I’ve been lying to myself about how much I care about this woman, that the next few words I speak as we exchange rings are true?
Deep down, I know the answer. I’ve been telling myself a story to keep Jessica at arms’ length, to maintain distance because if I let anyone close, I could ruin everything.
Pivot,pivot, pivot.
When I speak her name as part of our vows, her gaze leaps to mine. Our eye contact doesn’t waver as if she’s aware of the transformation that’s occurring inside but will give me time to meet her as a husband.
I told myself that the first few times we kissed didn’t mean anything. She’s objectively attractive. Later, I justified it by telling myself we were just testing the waters, practicing. I told myself not to kiss her again. That will only distract me from the game. These last few days, we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other.
Pivot,pivot, pivot.
However, not ten minutes later, when we’re pronounced man and wife, for a moment, with her mouth on mine, the connection feels solid like ice, but not cold. Like a win, but this isn’t a game. It’s real life. And I’m married to Jessica.
I had my rules. She had hers. We both broke them, but what about new rules? Just to be cheeky, I land my hand on theBundtI know is there, buried under the fabric of her gown.
When we part, her cheeks rosy and her eyes shining, she says, “Maybe you do have a playful side after all.”
Hand in hand, we march down the aisle. It’s surreal as everyone greets us, but also very, very real. We just did something I never expected to—that I told Pamberlie I never would. She banked on that.
Yet here I am, and so far, I kind of like it.
The reception is outdoors with laughter and chatter spilling out of the barn and the big house’s porch onto the broad lawn and echoing across the water. I’m pulled in multiple directions but repeatedly land back by Jessica’s side. It’s like now that we’re officially married, an invisible magnet draws us together.
The lights strung overhead sparkle, the toasts made are thoughtful, and the edginess that I often feel when back here at home doesn’t show up until Franklin arrives with his cane in hand. Seems like Grannie Bell and my parents invited the whole town.
We exchange a nod and I make introductions.
Somehow, Jessica hasn’t run out of energy. She’s either been sneaking off to down pots of coffee or this kind of activity and excitement fuels her. Meanwhile, I need a nap.
Despite having a permanent injury from the accident, Franklin could be her long-lost cheerful soulmate. They exchange hugs like they’ve known each other since high school.
Frank shakes his head. “I didn’t expect The Beast to have it in him. Senior year, he got two superlatives. Best hockey jock and we voted him least likely to get married.”
I shake my head because the second one isn’t true. “He’s joking.”
“There’s always some truth in a joke.” Jessica winks.
I swallow thickly because she’s kept on script until now. We didn’t actually write lines to use when people say the usual cliches at weddings, nor did we come up with a backstory other than the semi-truth. Jessica was my assistant. She had a crush on me. I fell for her. It’s a well-used template.
However, what Jessica says next rocks me for some reason.
With a little lilt in her voice, she says, “I’m just that irresistible.” She smooths her hand down my lapel. “When Liam saw me, he thought to himself, ‘Now, that’s the woman I need in my life.’ I’m an expert laundry folder, great at meal prep, and have sophisticated logistical skills.” A certain sweet smile, the likes of which I’ve never seen before, blooms on her lips.
“Hard to say no to that,” Frank teases.
But Jessica isn’t done. “Then he realized it wasn’t just that he needed me. He wanted me because not only am I an exceptional assistant, I also listen to what he isn’t saying, let in just the right amount of light, and am his biggest fan.”
The DJ must’ve turned down the music and everyone must’ve fallen silent because my surroundings fade. Her amber eyes meet mine with a kind of intensity that’s hard to deny.
She lifts onto her toes. I lower my chin slightly.
