Page 78 of Never the Bride
Seeing that Camila is in denial, Abby looks directly at me. “Hess, tell me what’s going on between you two.”
“I invited my best friend and Camila’s sister over for drinks and dessert later tonight, andmy wife”—I add extra emphasisjust to annoy her—“is upset about it because she doesn’t want her sister to find out about our little marriage.”
Her brows lift as she looks at Camila. “You haven’t told your sister that you’re married?”
“She hasn’t toldanyone,” I interject.
“Why not?”
Camila bristles as she taps her fingers on the arm of the couch. “I just don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”
“I’d have to disagree,” Abby says, and I feel a tinge of satisfaction. “If you’re trying to prove to the court that this is a real marriage, isn’t telling your family and friends about it the first thing you should do?”
“I…” A strained breath spills over Camila’s lips.
“Do you know what else she’s not doing?” I’ve become a marriage tattle-tale—not something I’m proud of. “She’s not letting me get to know her.”
“Oh, please!” Camila rolls her eyes. “I think you’ve gotten to know me plenty.”
“Hess, can you expound on that?” Abby prompts.
“Love to!” I snap a glare over to Camila before continuing. “As soon as I ask her something personal, she shuts down. And she still hasn’t sent me her getting-to-know-you slide presentation yet.” Abby’s brows lift with interest, but I keep going. “All of that is second to the fact that she’s a workaholic who’sneverhome, and when she is home, she hides in her bedroom. How can we get to know each other when I never see her?”
“That’s not true.” She whips her head to me. “We’re always in the kitchen together.”
“For, like, ten minutes.”
“And sometimes we see each other around the house.”
“In passing in the hallway. Kinda hard to get to know you when you’re walking by.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You’re being really needy right now.”
“No, I’m just trying to paint a picture for Abby so she knows what I’m dealing with.” I flip my head to our counselor. “She’s never home for long periods of time.”
Camila swats my shoulder as if she just thought of something. “What about that Sunday when your parents came over? I was hanging out by the pool. You could’ve come out there if you wanted to be by me so bad.”
“That was almost a month ago. But just to be clear, I couldn’t go out there.”
“Why not?”
“Have you seen yourself in a bikini? Because I have, and honestly, we’re probably going to have to make a rule, just to keep things uncomplicated for the last four months. You’re not allowed to wear that royal-blue swimsuit anywhere near me.”
“Oh, if we’re making up rules, then you can’t come out for a late-night snack without a shirt on. T-shirts have to be worn at all times.”
“You can’t make that rule in my house.”
“I can, and I just did. And you know what else?” She circles her arms around her body. “I need a bubble of space that you’re not allowed to go inside of. None of this coming up next to me, breathing on my neck.”
“I was helping you withyourzipper.”
“Putting your hands on my waist.”
“Again,helpingyou. Or maybe you wanted me to let you fall off the step stool in the pantry.”
She keeps talking as if she’s ignoring my every rebuttal. “Rubbing your arm against me to wash a bowl. If I can smell your soap, then you’ve gotten too close.”
“Okay, then no looking at me with bedroom eyes.”
