Page 113 of The Situation
I’ve been dancing around this for the past few days, too. Tate has been finagling a way to get me alone. He’s tried to take me back to Columbus fornostalgic purposes. I mentioned wanting to see Costa Rica, and he offered to sort that for me immediately. He even booked a house in Sedona, Arizona, but I made him get a refund.
I know what he’s trying to do, and I’m trying to avoid it like the plague.
“How do you think we have time to get away for a trip like that?” I ask. “Charlie just tendered his official resignation this week after his mom’s passing. We’ve had to mothball the rebrand for reasons I still don’t understand, and I feel like all the work that Tally and I have put in over the past couple of months has been for nothing, and nobody cares.”
“I care.”
“Do you, though?”
“Of course,” he says, stroking my back. “I care about everything that affects you.”
“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Because I’m under an NDA at the moment. I’ll explain it all as soon as I can.” He bends down and kisses my forehead. “It’ll be worth it. Just hold on for a bit longer.”
I sigh, shoving away from him and sitting up.
“My mom called today,” he says. “She’s flying in tomorrow for my party and can’t wait to meet you.”
“I’m excited to meet her. Your sister’s family will be there, too, right?”
He nods, clearing his throat.
If this week hadn’t been so heavy at work, I might be looking forward to meeting Tate’s entire family tomorrow. Because, in theory, it’s a beautiful gesture. In reality, though, it’s terrifying.
What if they don’t like me? What if Carys is cold and unfriendly?I couldn’t blame her.What if his mother thinks I’m too old for her baby boy?That wouldn’t be a blamable offense, either.
And God knows what Tate’s told them. He seems to be telling the world that I’m Mrs. Tate Brewer. And every time that happens, every time he casts a joke out into our little bubble about our “marriage,” I react viscerally.
I know I’ve worked hard to get through the trauma of my last marriage, and I know I’m a stronger woman now, but the idea of leaping from one marriage into another so quickly freaks me out.
It’s not him that’s the problem. He’s as close to perfection as you can get.
I’m afraid to say this directly because I might lose him. He might finally believe I’m not worth the trouble.
But not saying anything doesn’t lend itself to healthy communication, which can then lead to an unhealthy relationship. So I’m royally screwed either way I go.
“Can I talk to you about something?” I ask.
“Sure.”
I sigh, not wanting to discuss this, but not seeing a way out, either.
“I had two people come up to me today and congratulate me on my engagement,” I say. “Because we are getting married, apparently.”
He smirks. “You better not be marrying anyone else.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is it then?”
I hang my head. This is going to be just as tricky as I feared.
“First, we aren’t engaged,” I say. “So it makes it super awkward for me to try to backtrack and explain that I don’t know where they heard that, but it’s false.”
“Would it be easier just to get engaged?”
“No.”
