Page 80 of Never the Bride
“Are you embarrassed that they might judge you for entering into a marriage just for the money?”
Camila tilts her head. “That feels like a trick question you’ll use against me later to the judge.”
“It’s my duty to keep our sessions private. Generally speaking, I can’t testify about what either of you said here. It’s not quite as airtight as the attorney–client privilege that you’re accustomed to, but I do take it seriously. My conversations with the judge provide feedback on whether or not I believe you’re trying—in good faith—to make this marriage more than an inheritance grab.”
“In that case, I suppose there is some embarrassment that I married for money, but at the same time, I did what I had todo to support my mom and sister and to literally survive with diabetes, so I stand by my decision one hundred percent.”
That’s the first time I’ve heard Camila talk about needing the money to pay for medical expenses tied to her diabetes. She said on the airplane that she was diagnosed six years ago—right before we got married.
“I think it would be good for you to own your decision publicly, so I have some homework for you both for the next month.” She pins her stare on Camila first. “You need to tell your friends and family about this marriage. You could even open up to them about why you felt you needed to do it.” When she starts to protest, Abby cuts her off. “I’m serious, Camila. The judge wants to see that this marriage is a real part of your life, and admitting to others the choices you made is a great first step. Report back to me next time on how it goes. As far as making rules or putting up boundaries?—”
“They’re not real rules. Camila can wear whatever she wants,” I mutter. She looks good in everything, so there’s really no point in saying she can’t wear something.
“And obviously, it’s your house.” She folds her arms, not meeting my gaze. “You’re free to walk around with your shirt off.”
“I get it.” Abby smiles. “You’re both young and attractive and living together. There’s going to be some attraction boiling beneath the surface. The important thing is that you communicate openly about it. Make sure you set realistic boundaries that you both feel comfortable with.”
Oh, I think I’m communicating openlytoomuch.
I can’t believe I told Camila I wanted to kiss her. At least I had the forethought to addprobably.That gives it some ambiguity.
“Your marriage is a unique situation. Physical intimacy should only happen when?—”
“Can we move on from physical intimacy?” Camila snaps like a cord that broke down the middle from being pulled too tight, and honestly, I’m grateful she said something. The tension, on my end, was getting overwhelming.
“Sure, as long as you’re both on the same page.” Abby snickers. She switches her stare to me. “Hess, your homework for the next month is to keep trying to get Camila to open up. Eventually, you’ll crack that shell when she’s ready. But be patient. Whether you like it or not, you two are in this situation together. Teamwork is the best course to make it through.” She looks back and forth between us. “You both are the only ones who understand what it’s like to be thrown into a marriage you didn’t want and weren’t planning on. Use that common ground to build a foundation for your relationship.”
Relationship? This suddenly feels like a real marriage and a real counseling session, but without the make-up fun later tonight that typically comes after marital disagreements.
We spend the rest of the session talking about how to communicate effectively. After, we walk to our cars in silence, both processing what Abby said.
“I’ll see you at home,” I grumble to Camila. “Drive safe.”
I pause before getting in my truck. That was the most husbandly thing I’ve ever said.
Shoot, this might be turning into a real marriage after all.
Camila
Landon’s caris already parked out front when I pull up to Hess’s house.
My fingers tighten over the steering wheel as I shake my head.
I cannot believe I have to tell Selena I married Hess. This is where everything goes sideways—more than it already has. I’ve always been the responsible one between us. I can’t fathom a world where Selena chides me for the choices I’ve made.
When I step out of my car, Hess waits for me on the porch with a charming grin, but I’m still mad at him from that ridiculous counseling session and for inviting Landon and Selena over, so I shoot him a glare.
“I’m guessing you’re not interested in entering the house hand in hand?”
“What gave it away?” I say as I walk toward him.
He laughs in that easy way I’m beginning to begrudgingly adore. “You’re full of quick remarks, aren’t you?”
“It’s a weakness,” I deadpan, stopping in front of him.
“I kind of think it might be your strength.”
I fidget, not knowing how to accept his compliment.
