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“Fun!” And then she added wistfully, “I love Vegas. I haven’t been in so long.”
“Well, Agatha and I went to the strip after the reception when everyone else from our group went to their rooms. And, well, we woke up the next morning apparently married. I swear I barely remember any of it, but we have the marriage license complete with the seal from the state of Nevada and both our signatures.”
“Ahh, that explains the dayglow-green rings you are both wearing. Okay, so forgive me for oversimplifying here, but can’t you just get it annulled? Or revoked or whatever?” my sister asked innocently.
“You’re going to think I’ve gone mad.” I took a deep breath and admitted, “But I don’t want to.”
“Come again?”
“I said I don’t want to dissolve the marriage. I want to make it work.” I chuckled between sentences. “Hell, if we can make the best out of a really irresponsible decision like this, we can probably take on anything life throws our way.”
“Well, that’s one way of looking at it. But seems a bit naïve, no? Obviously, I have nothing to draw from here personally, but I’m pretty sure making a marriage succeed takes a lot of hard work.”
“So far that seems to be true. And patience. Lots and lots of patience,” I told my sister but at the same time couldn’t help but notice what was happening to my face. A smile as wide as the 5 freeway in Orange County spread across not just my lips but the entire lower half of my face.
While my wife had the ability to infuriate me, she also brought so much joy and life to my otherwise boring, routine existence. I nodded, basically just agreeing with myself because no one else could see me, but yeah, I wanted to make this work with Agatha. I was determined to make our marriage work.
She just had to get on board with the plan.
Chapter Sixteen
Agatha
The day was shot by the time I woke up and felt well enough to get out of bed. I was so thankful Carmen insisted I sleep off whatever hit me at his church. Okay, fine, I knew exactly what happened, but I’d be damned if I’d try to explain it to him and once again be judged for my poor decisions. I could admit to myself, at least, that wasn’t one of my finer calls.
It was in the past now, so no use myself up for being so dumb. I certainly learned my lesson and wouldn’t be considering cold medicine for a quick edge–smoother anytime soon.
The bedroom was quiet and almost dark. The whole day had slipped away while I’d slept. It felt incredible, though, to have slept that many hours in a row. Why couldn’t I do that every night? Knowing at least three others I shared my genetic makeup with also suffered from insomnia led me to believe it was a cell-deep problem. Environment and lifestyle could definitely make it worse, but they rarely made it better. I hadn’t found a magical solution yet.
Just then, the door slowly opened, and Carmen poked his head in. Since I was sitting up with all the pillows stacked behind me, he saw me the moment the door opened wide enough.
“Hey, beautiful, how are you feeling?” he asked gently. His cautious smile caused a weird twinge in my stomach, and I stiffened with panic that I’d get sick again.
Okay, not nauseated, I decided after a few moments, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what the feeling was. It could’ve been guilt. I usually got a hefty dose of that one after pulling a stunt that affected the people around me. I wasn’t an ice queen like Shep, after all.
Dropping my gaze to the bedding, I answered, “I’m all right. Much better after so much sleep.” I looked up to find his focus squarely on me. “What time is it?”
“Well after five. Closer to six, as a matter of fact. I didn’t have the heart to wake you, even though I had at least five personal debates about doing it or not.” Again his sheepish smile made my stomach react.
“Truly, I’m glad you didn’t. I needed to log some restorative hours. I’m just hoping it doesn’t screw with my sleep overnight.”
My husband slowly approached the bed and finally sat on the edge by my hip. “You really had me worried, Storm.”
“I’m sorry about that. Truly, I am,” I replied quietly. When he looked like he was going to start in on a lecture, I put my hand up to stop him. “Please don’t lecture me or chastise me right now. I don’t think I can deal with it.”
He studied me for a long moment. Too long, actually, and I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Finally, he said, “Why would I lecture you for getting sick? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Sorry,” was all I could come up with and began nervously folding the edge of the sheet back and forth like an accordion.
Silence from both of us for a few more minutes until he asked, “Do you think you can eat something? I can make you some broth or tea or something else that would be easy on your stomach.”
“You don’t have to do that. I should get up anyway,” I replied and pushed the covers down my legs. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed before that moment, but when I saw what I was wearing, I asked, “Where are my clothes? My dress…” I trailed off, trying to remember how things unfolded when we arrived home. Really, the last thing I had a clear memory of was barfing on the playground of his church.
“Is it ruined?” I squeaked, afraid to hear the answer.
“No, not at all. A bit wrinkled, but I hung it up in the spare room,” he said and thumbed over his shoulder. The way he studied me while he spoke unnerved me. There were definitely things he was holding back from saying, I could tell by his body language. It looked like holding his tongue was causing him physical pain.
“What?” I finally barked, and that one word came out much more aggressively than intended. “Sorry,” I muttered and dropped my gaze again. Shit, that was the third time I’d apologized to the man in less than fifteen minutes. Definitely a new personal record, because I rarely used the word in the first place.
