Page 34 of Begin Again
He tries to move, then groans in pain. “I’ll get you some ice.” I hurry to the freezer and come back with a pack of frozen peas. “This is all we have.”
“It’ll work.” He groans as he shifts and puts the peas between him and the couch. When his eyes meet mine again, time seemsto freeze. Marrying Sam would change everything and both of us know that. But I’d still do it, do this for him. I’d do just about anything to take away the pain he’s in. Including becoming his wife, even if I always promised myself I wouldn’t be anyone’s wife. I swallow thickly as I watch his eyes flicker to my lips for a heartbeat and then search my eyes again.
“Marry me,” I say. “For the insurance.”
But we both know it’s not just for the insurance. I wonder who will be the first to break and tell the truth. My guess is Sam, because I don’t plan to ever tell him the whole truth.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, sunshine.” His voice is low.
I try to focus on something else. “You must be in a lot of pain, can I get you anything that will help so you can get some sleep?”
His next look chills me to the bone. “I’ve been in worse pain, this is nothing. Get some sleep, sunshine. We’re getting married today.”
My heart squeezes in my chest with guilt but I nod and move away from him. “Just holler if you need anything.”
He nods, but we both know he won’t. Even though we’re getting married some time today, he’s not exactly happy about it. This isn’t how he wanted this to happen, but he’ll do it anyway. Even if it means one or both of us ending up with a broken heart.
It takes me another hour for my mind to stop whirling and to fall into a fitful sleep. When I wake up, I’m getting married.
Something I never planned on happening. Something I never expected.
I don’t think I’ll mind marrying Sam.It’s the last thought I have before I fall asleep.
When I get up a few hours later, I shower and put on a simple yellow sundress and head out to the kitchen only to find Sam eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen island.
“I could have made you breakfast,” I say as I pull out my frozen spinach and strawberries to put in my usual morning smoothie.
“It’s okay,” he answers, his voice soft and he won’t look at me. “You’re already marrying me today, I can’t exactly ask you to do anything else.”
I swallow thickly. “It was my idea to get married, and I’m happy to do it. So don’t feel like you can’t ask me for help.”
He nods and walks stiffly around the counter to put his bowl in the sink. “We don’t have to get married, I’ll set up a GoFundMe or something and I’m sure I can pay for any of the medical help I need if I do that.”
“Sam.” I walk up to him—but don’t touch him—as I search his eyes. “I want to do this.”
I wait for him to ask why, ready to tell him the truth. Because he deserves to know the truth, but I can’t seem to bring myself to say the words. How does one tell the person they love that they love them without completely blurting it and sounding like a lunatic? But he doesn’t ask, he simply looks down at me with a face that I can’t read. I’ve never been able to not read him and know what he’s thinking or feeling, but this morning I don’t know and it makes me nervous.
“Only if you’re sure, Annie,” he finally says. “I’ll only do this if you’re sure you want to marry me. For insurance.” He adds the last part like he knows the truth, like he knows how I really feel about him but that I’m too afraid to admit it.
Three little words are on the tip of my tongue, but instead I say, “I’m sure.”
He nods once. “Give me about a half hour to get ready, then we’ll go.” He walks slowly out of the kitchen.
“Do you need help changing?” I ask, turning red down to my toes at the thought of having to help him change, of taking off his clothes.
He looks back at me, taking in my crimson skin and a smirk slides onto his face, which makes me go warm all over. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Plus, like you said last night, I don’t think this will be that type of marriage.”
It’s as if a bucket of ice water was dumped on me. Before I regain enough composure to reply, he turns and heads into his bedroom, closing the door with a gentle click.
I’m wiping down the kitchen counters when he returns. “Do you have your birth certificate?”
“I grabbed all my important documents. They’re in the folder.” I nod to the manila folder sitting on the edge of the counter.
He grabs the folder and adds his own documents to it, like we’re already sharing space and becoming one or whatever it is married couples do. This is really about to happen.
We take the subway and Sam stands the entire ride because he says that sitting hurts too much. I can tell he’s in pain as we climb the stairs of the courthouse, but when I ask him about it, he tells me he’s fine.
“Ready?” he asks before we go in.
