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She’d already dragged me all over the place to visit the filming sites for that stupid movie series, bought half the memorabilia they had on offer, and clapped like a child in excitement at every new discovery.
I think if she could live in the Hobbit house, she would, so now I’m on the hunt for something similar. So far, middle earth seems more like Britain than this place, but I wasn’t going to tell her that shit because she’s fanatic.
“Asshole jerk.” Her outburst brought me back to the present.
“What is it that I have done now?” I kept my voice soft and even.
“You made me fall in love with you.”
Her words went through me like something slow and sweet, and I felt that fluttering in my chest again. I wrapped my arms around her and held her closer while taking it all the feels.
I tried to hide my pleasure at her outburst so that she didn’t lose her damn mind again, but it was no use.
“Oh, you like that, do you. Well, it sucks to be you, jackass, because now you’re stuck with me for life.”
“Can you, at least this once, react like a normal rational being?”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you? This is what happens when you stick your dick in crazy.”
“At least you know yourself.”
“I’m gonna tell your Mom.”
Did I mention that the people who raised me from birth are now convinced that I am the harbinger and orchestrator of all her woes? If her heart wasn’t as pure as it is twisted, I would believe that she is some psyop sent by the enemy to disrupt my otherwise peaceful existence.
I have no doubt that she would have no problem fabricating some story to get my mother to yell at me again. She and my sister had ripped into me for allowing someone to make her feel unwelcome.
When I confronted her about it, she simply showed me the conversation in the group chat, which I have to admit didn’t show her calling anyone out, but she and I both knew who she was referring to, and it didn’t take much for my Mom and sister to draw the same conclusion.
They had both gone on to assure her that she would, in fact, be welcomed into our circles with open arms, and Mom is now in the process of planning some soiree that I am absolutely certain this one had talked her into without coming right out and saying it. And she calls me sneaky.
“We should celebrate.” I turned her around on my lap to straddle me and tugged at her bikini top.
“Celebrate how?” Oh, I’m sure she had a pretty good idea since she was the one who leaned in close to feed me her nipple.
GARRETT
The day of her shoot came, and I still had no idea what she was up to. I get the feeling that my family knows, but no one is talking. She got those Benedict Arnolds, my father included, to change camps overnight, it seems, and I watched her do it flawlessly.
She FaceTimes with my Mom and younger sister at least once a day and has the most intense conversations. Listening from the sidelines, it’s obvious that she’s genuinely interested in everything they’re saying, but I know there’s an underlying reason for her shit; I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.
Like when I walked into our bedroom the day before and saw her with all the heirloom jewelry Mom and Dad had brought her in Cabo. We’d had no choice but to bring them along with us with her trousseau since I wasn’t about to trust millions of dollars worth of heirloom jewelry to anyone else.
When I asked what she was doing, she ignored me and went back to talking to my family, who were breaking down every piece and the history behind it. I could tell by the look on my parents’ faces that they were impressed with her, but later, when my Dad made the statement to me about her style and etiquette and how genteel she was, I had to ask him if we were talking about the same woman.
He took offense to me insulting his daughter-in-law, though I hadn’t said a word, and I warned him that if his son turned up in a ditch somewhere, it was all his fault since he chose the enemy. Since Mom terrorizes him as well, he found it funny and told me to man up and stop being a punk.
In our third conversation, instead of discussing business, which was my sole reason for calling him while on my honeymoon, something he had fought for, claiming that you never stop working no matter what, he had called me out for leaving my bride alone on her honeymoon to make money.
It was at that point that I realized that she’d pushed me out and taken over. I shudder to think what the future will bring at this rate since they’d barely been in a room together for more than a few hours. My father never passes up an opportunity to discuss business.
Anyway, she’d won them over with her grace and calm. My mother was singing her praises, and my sister couldn’t wait for the two of them to go shopping together. My sister, who has hounded every female I have dated since breaking things off with Natalie, claiming they were all gold diggers, yelled at me when I told her that the black card I had ordered for my wife had not yet been delivered.
She was very annoyed, and my darling wife, who happens to have healthy savings as well as investment portfolio for one so young, batted her lashes at me and acted as if I was keeping her destitute.
I have no idea what she did to bring about this change, but I have never heard my sister, the snob, refer to anyone as her sister or seen her be so receptive to newcomers. I’d like to think it was their faith in me and my judgment that was the reason behind their easy willingness to accept her, but I think I might be wrong. She’d done it all herself.
How someone could find time throughout the day to wreak havoc and mayhem on her enemies while simultaneously schmoozing three of the most pigheaded people in creation into buying their shit is an art I hope to achieve one day. My woman is nuts.
