Page 31 of The Marriage Sham

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Knock,knock.

I’m about to puke, that sugar bomb of a coffee having gone straight to my heart like jumper cables on steroids. My palms are sweaty, and my glasses keep fogging up. My job is to listen to her, but how can I do that if she won’t open the dang door and talk to me?

The door cracks open finally, and I can see Francie’s beautiful eyes staring back at me, looking about as bloodshot as the eyes I saw in the mirror this morning.

“Fen.”

Thank goodness, she’s talking to me.

“Francie. We need to talk. Please.”

She eyes me wearily, but opens the door wider, letting me in.

I hover in the foyer, not wanting to push my way into her personal space and get kicked out just as I’m finally let in. I can see the lines around her face and the slump to her shoulders. It kills me to know she’s suffering over something I did.

“Francie—“

“Fen—“

We stare at each other, awkward again, like when she first moved back to Love.

“Ladies first.”

She shifts on her feet, her eyes darting away. “I really don’t think carrying on with other women is a good idea when the whole town knows we’re married. If you want to date someone else, that’s fine. I can’t stop you. But you need to be more careful.”

My jaw drops open, but no words come out. How could she possibly say that? Then I’m reminded of what Harold told me.She’ll say everything’s fine…look beneath the words.

“Francie. I don’t want to date anyone. I just told you two weeks ago I want to make our marriage real. Why would I want someone else?”

Her gaze darts back to me before skating away again. “I never gave you an answer, so I figured you’d moved on.”

I step closer, wanting so badly to touch her. “I haven’t moved on. I still want to be married to you. For real.”

Her face flushes, and her eyes are now lashing at me, the look enough to make me want to step back. “Could have fooled me! You kissed her, Fen! Don’t you dare lie to me.”

“Francie—“

“No. Not again. I told you how I felt about you in high school. Now you fooled me again.” Her eyes fill with tears, and I want to grab her shoulders and shake her until she hears me. Until she understands I love her. “I want someone to choosemefor once! Is that so much to ask?”

The tears spill down her cheeks, and I’ve had enough. Taking her face in my hands I thumb away her tears, hope blooming when she lets me. I kiss her forehead and pull her into me. Her body is vibrating, with hurt or with anger. Probably both.

“Francie, you saw her kiss me. Yes, I admit that. But what you didn’t see was me asking her to leave, repeatedly. Or me kicking her off my property after you ran off. I even threatened to call the police. I promise you, I want you, not her,” I whisper, hoping she believes me.

Her forehead is resting on my chest now, and all I want is to see her face. To lock eyes with her and show her I’m speaking the truth.

“I just don’t understand. How do you even know Colette? And why would you want me when you could have her?”

My body locks up. “How doyouknow Colette?

Her head lifts, and she stares at me, the tears having left tracks down her cheeks. She tilts her head. “She’s my nightmare client. I met with her at Lover’s Landing yesterday morning.”

My eyes feel like they’re bugging out of my head. “Colette is your client?” I throw back my head and laugh, feeling better than I have in the last twenty-four hours. “That makes a lot of sense now.”

I look down and see Francie is still confused. “Colette is the girlfriend I had in college. The one that cheated on me senior year?”

“Oh!” She’s slowly shaking her head, her nose wrinkling. “What was she thinking? What wereyouthinking?”

I burst out laughing again. “I don’t know, honestly. She’s much…harsher now. We would have been a horrible match. I guess she actually did me a favor.”

“I’ll say. She gives Cruella de Vil a run for her money, that’s for sure.”

I pull her back into me. “So you see, I don’t want her. Not even a little bit. I want you. Only you. Do you believe me?”

She sobers quickly, nodding her head. I don’t waste any time, kissing her quickly on the forehead and her cheeks. Her answer lacks enthusiasm, but it doesn’t worry me.

Because I have something special up my sleeve: my grand gesture.

I hope Harold and Betty don’t let me down…