Page 35 of Wake Me Up
I suppose it is because this entire day is making me feel ill. Not just because I’m betraying my husband, but because this could get Tripp in so much trouble. He could go to jail, and I don’t even want to imagine that.
Walking along the sidewalk, I begin to feel numb. Because as a single mom, my back’s against the wall, and a man like Tripp is here to save me.
I’ve always been too proud to ask for help, and yet … look what I just did. Allowed him to give me the biggest favor of my entire life.
Iend the call with my mother—a call I never thought I’d make—where I asked her and my dad to show up at city hall this afternoon and witness me marrying another man. And to do it without asking any questions and to make my father be a good sport. The call wasn’t exhausting because my mom knew not to say much. She understands me enough to know I didn’t come to this decision lightly.
It’s only nine a.m., and so far, I’ve just gone through the motions. Doing all my usual tasks—taking the kids to school and going about my day just like I always do, besides work. But while everything looks normal, inside, everything feels incredibly heavy. How could it not feel heavy when I’m sitting beside the road, next to the cemetery my husband is buried in, dreading going to see him? As weird as it sounds, I always enjoy coming here because I can bring him flowers, tell him a funny story about his kids, or just vent about life. Even though it’s not the same as having him here and it sometimes makes me crave his touch and need to hear his voice more than ever, it also keeps us connected in some way.
So, while I generally like coming to visit, I’ve found myself stuck in this car the past twenty-five minutes, just trying to remind my legs how to walk the path to his grave.
Finally, I force myself to open the door, and slowly, I step outside into the cool autumn air. I close my door before zipping my jacket up and let my feet lead me to where I need to go.
This has always been my favorite season in New England, ever since I was a little girl. The leaves change, the air is crisper, and somehow everything seems … serener. While that may be what’s going on out here today, inside of my body, it’s the opposite of calm.
When I reach my husband’s grave, the wordsbeloved husband, father, son, brother, and friendstare at me, just like they always do, yet my eyes fixate onbeloved husbandand nothing else.
“I feellike you already know why I’m here, baby,” I croak.
The sight of his grave becomes blurry through my tear-soaked eyes, and I sink down onto my knees before it. I let my head fall forward because I feel too ashamed to look at the writing on the stone any longer.
“I am only marrying him because it’s what Avy needs, Jamie,” I rasp gruffly. “If there were another way—a way that wouldn’t put me or our parents in deep debt—I’d do it.” My shoulders shrug pathetically. “But as crazy as it sounds—and trust me, I know it’s crazy … I think this is the only choice I have. Avy deserves to get better, and I know deep down, even if you hate me right now, you feel the same.” I sob into my hands. “I know because you’re the world’s best dad, Jamie. Nothing was more important to you than our kids. It’s why I love you the way that I do.”
I allow myself to cry harder, letting my shoulders shake and my face become soaked until, finally, I tell myself that’s enough and to pull it together.
Lifting my face, I can’t help but weep as I put my hand on his stone. A stone with a pond and a deer because my husband loved nothing more than hunting and fishing, and even though it wasn’t enough, the least I could do was get him a nice stone to honor him and what an amazing man he was.
“I love you, Jamie Hale. I will always love you, and I will always be your wife.” I sniffle. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I press a kiss to my hand before touching the stone. “Goodbye, baby. Please forgive me someday. I’m begging you.”
It takes me a moment to gain my strength back, but finally, I do, and I stand up. And as I slowly walk back to my car and get in, I sink down into my seat, and I cry. I fall the fuck apart, and for an hour, I don’t even force myself to get it together. Because I will no longer be only Jamie Hale’s wife after today, and in my eyes, that deserves a good fucking cry.
So, I let myself feel like a piece of shit.
And I allow myself a goddamn minute to just … grieve.
Ilook down at Freya, and even though I know she pulled a random ivory-colored sweater dress from her closet because she told me, I still think she’s the most beautiful bride. She’s not wearing much makeup, only something to make her lips pinker and a bit of mascara maybe, but I can tell that, at any moment, that mascara could be running down her pretty cheeks because it’s obvious as fuck that she’s trying not to cry. I don’t think anyone could ever prepare you for the moment when you look into the eyes of the person you’re about to marry and watch her heart break more with every second that passes.
It’s supposed to be the opposite; she’s supposed to be looking at me with happiness in her eyes. Instead, she looks like she wants to run.
She looks haunted by this entire deal.
This isn’t what she wants, andI’mnot what she wants.
Her lip trembles the slightest bit, and though she tries to fight it, those beautiful brown eyes of hers swirl with regret. She’s doing this for her daughter—that’s it. She’ll never fall for me, and I’ll never be the man she looks at like I hung the moon. No. That’ll always be her first husband, and that’s okay.
If someone put a gun to my head right now and asked me why I was about to marry her, I wouldn’t have a fucking clue how to answer. There’s just something about her, something about her kids, that makes me want to do and be better. I was drawn to her the first time we met, yes. But I suppose I could say the same about her kids too.
Her parents watch from beside us. While her mom looks surprisingly at peace with this, her dad looks mad. When she told me she had called them this morning and asked them to be here, I was worried her dad might actually kill me. He may have been fine with me at the game, but I’m sure his daughter marrying me this suddenly is a tough pill to swallow. He didn’t say much, but the few times he opened his mouth, his wife would give him a look, and seconds later, his lipswere closed.
When it gets to the part where the officiant is asking if I’ll take her to be my wife, I look into her eyes. Though she grows more nervous, she doesn’t look away. And when it gets time for me to say those two tiny words … I don’t hesitate because I don’t want to give her a reason to think I’m not okay with this.
“I do,” I say, nodding once and keeping her small, cold hands in mine.
Now it’s her turn, but it won’t be as easy for those words to roll from her tongue, I’m sure. She’s not looking at me like I’m intolerable, but instead, she’s upset. When tears gather in her eyes again, I give her hands a slight squeeze to let her know it’s all right and that … I’m here.
I wish she’d just let me fucking be here.
Here it comes. Her turn to promise me that long slew of things that he just read off. I know she won’t mean them, and I know this is nothing but a business arrangement, yet when the two words spill from her lips … warmth spreads across my chest.
