Page 5 of My Wife
An uneasy feeling winds its way through me like the slithering of a snake. Deep down, it was Sorsha who pushed us into this marriage because she wanted her son to quit playing video games, fooling around with some girl from high school, and grow up.
Apparently, I impressed her with my organizational skills, self-motivation, and how I was a maverick when it came to maintaining a website and online store for her, ahem, ‘Business.’
The truth is, everything I know about technology, I learned from video tutorials.
Another ten minutes pass. The wisps of hair that stylishly hang from my updo stick to my neck. I desperately need to reapply deodorant and have a sudden craving for a piece of chocolate.
Okay, that’s a lie. I want a vat of it. But that’s not going to help me now.
At the cake tasting, Sorsha shamed me for licking the frosting off my finger. Later, I overheard her telling the wedding planner that we were having a vanilla wedding. No chocolate allowed.
I suppose that’s fitting for me because, after everything that happened before I met Rexlan, I’d made a vanilla life for myself. It was simple, quiet, and some would say boring. But I’ve had enough excitement to last a lifetime.
Then Prince Rexlan came along. He’s not actually royalty, but he swept me off my feet … and maybe got cold feet. I pray that’s not the case.
“Do you think he has the time or day wrong?” says Rory, another one of the bridesmaids—all chosen from among Sorsha’s Skink Society—where we all help with customer service, packaging orders, and answering emails. Not to mention, I have a high rate of confidence it’s a lizard-worshipping cult.
I’m afraid when we return from the honeymoon, Sorsha is going to try to induct me into it.
“Typical Rexlan. He was late for graduation because he was hooking up with Amy in the library—probably the only time he set foot in there,” Pamberlie says.
Amy rolls her eyes but avoids looking at me. “That’s not true. We’d meet there to study biology all the time.” Her cheeks turn red.
Pamberlie huffs. “Where are all the groomsmen? Their one job was to get Rex here on time.”
The wedding planner interjects, “Actually, for a successful wedding, groomsmen have a variety of responsibilities, ranging from?—”
Sorsha shoots me the stink eye—skink eye?—as if the timeline going off the rails is my fault.
I could really use a family of my own right now, a hug even, someone to assure me that everything is going to be okay. I kind of thought the Coogans were my magic family goose. The uneasiness in my stomach that’s built up for the last few months suggests I’ve been living in a delusion. But it’s too late to go back now, right?
Several people talk at once, then abruptly go quiet when my fiancé’s voice filters through the room. Relief rushes through me. Rexlan is outside and probably has a reasonable explanation for his tardiness.
“Yay! It’s officially our wedding day. For a second there, I was afraid he wasn’t going to show up.” The shakiness in my voice ebbs with each word as he continues to talk.
His voice is coming from a cell phone. In the background of the video call are the sounds of laughter, talking, loud music, and … that can’t be right.
I frown and the flutters in my stomach nosedive into a stony pit filled with spikes and electric eels. Dramatic, but true.
Sorsha lifts her phone to eye level and barks, “Rexlan Levi Coogan, where are you?”
Only, he doesn’t answer and instead says, “Babe, I’m going to make you the happiest wife on the planet. Show me the rock, Mrs. Coogan. Show the world!”
I look around, confused, because everyone in this room has commented on the dainty emerald engagement ring Sorsha gave Rexlan for me to have. The others must be confused too because they murmur and whisper, but I can’t quite make out the distinct words over the fuzziness in my ears. I have a fleeting thought about my grandmother, who is Deaf.
We’re not blood relatives, but she adopted me when I was in high school. The fact that I didn’t tell her or my best friend Cara about this wedding makes me feel like I’m going to break out with a rash of shame.
“How can I be Mrs. Coogan, if we’re not yet married?” I glance at Sorsha. “Unless he means you.”
She lowers her phone, but not before I glimpse Rexlan, Cassleigh, and the unmistakable flash of a slot machine against the backdrop of Las Vegas.
“Let’s go back to the room and start our honeymoon,” Rexlan says from the phone.
A couple of the women gasp, Amy loudest of all.
Pamberlie’s eyes flash and her expression turns murderous.
Amy says, “Is he standing her up?”
