AllFreeNovel
Share Us
IF I HAD TO GUESS, I’d say lots of brides probably struggle to sleep the night before their wedding. After all, the combination of nerves and excitement is enough to keep anyone awake.
I highly doubt, though, that there are very many brides out there who struggle to sleep on account of the fact that the next day they’re marrying a man solely for the purpose of staying out of jail.
And if there are other brides in a situation like mine, I’m guessing that—as criminals—they’re way better at lying to themselves than I am, because my heart is not buying the whole “marrying a man solely for the purpose of staying out of jail” thing. And neither are my pulsing lips.
It’s as if they’ve grown a mind of their own, but it’s a one-track mind, and the track is: we kissed Jack, we kissed Jack, WE KISSED JACK.
It’s really annoying. I tried putting on some lip balm to shut them up, but now they just feel gussied up. Darn pink shimmer and shine.
Still, thinking about kissing Jack on the cheek is definitely preferable to thinking about, you know, the murder I committed mere hours ago.
Yeah, not thinking about that. I just can’t let myself. I need to focus on other things, and Jack is a convenient distraction.
Not healthy, I know, but it’s not as if I can just call up a therapist and ask for help dealing with the trauma from having murdered someone.
Pretty sure patient-confidentiality doesn’t extend to murder.
So thinking about the feel of Jack’s stubble against my lips it is.
Such a hardship.
I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. It occurs to me then, that this is going to be my new bed for the foreseeable future. I can’t very well marry Jack and then go back to live in my condo, but I also can’t imagine myself sleeping in bed next to Jack.
That’s not true. I can imagine it. In fact, it’s a delightful imagining. Here, in the privacy of this bedroom, I can admit that the idea of falling asleep next to Jack is one that I like.
But only if he likes the idea too. And although he may have asked me to marry him for real three years ago, today-Jack is marrying me for all of the wrong reasons. So, this will have to be a separate bedrooms type of marriage. Which is for the best. No need to start blurring the lines between truth and fiction.
Quite suddenly there’s movement on the other side of my bed. I open my mouth to scream, but then I spot the source of the movement—it was just Briggs. Jack’s cat.
His eyes glow almost yellow in the darkness as he slinks toward me. Some people might find this sight creepy, but, having grown up with a cat, the glowing eyes don’t scare me. Briggs bends his head down and rubs it against my arm, asking to be pet.
According to Jack, Briggs doesn’t like most people, but he’s always been friendly to me. I reach over to stroke him, and he lets out a tiny purr.
I wonder if Briggs remembers me from three years ago. He’s certainly acting like he does.
“Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, Briggs,” I whisper into his fur. His tail flicks me in the face. I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. “I’m going to be around for the foreseeable future,” I tell him, then wince at my word choice.
Foreseeable future. My mom used to say that whenever she rolled into town and what it actually meant was, I’ll be around until something—or rather someone—better comes along.
“That’s not what I meant though, Briggs,” I whisper, but even with just a cat to hear me the words feel disingenuous. How can I guarantee that I mean them when leaving people behind is in my blood? When being the person left behind is such a major part of my history?
This last thought sends a rush of cold through my body that even the warm down comforter on this bed can’t ease.
I’ve always known that I am someone who people have an easy time walking away from. First my dad, then my mom—not just once, but over and over again. As I got older, I realized that long-term relationships with people really only serve to prolong their inevitable leaving. I think that’s why a tiny part of me felt vindicated when Jack walked away from us. Don’t get me wrong—it hurt like heck when he broke up with me. I truly wasn’t sure I’d ever get out of bed, but even so his actions made me feel justified for turning down his proposal. Like I’d been right to say no to him, since our relationship was always doomed to end with Jack leaving me. Better to lose a boyfriend than a husband.
Tomorrow, Jack is marrying me as a huge favor. Odd as it sounds to say, ideally I’ll end up getting away with murder and our marriage will no longer be necessary. But what then? Will he walk away from me? Will I walk away from him?
Both seem like very real possibilities. And both leave me hurting and alone.
Okay, I need to move along from this depressing line of thinking…
What am I going to wear to my courthouse wedding? That’s a slightly safer line of thought. One that doesn’t end up with me picturing Jack and I cuddling.
I certainly can’t wear Jack’s sweatshirt. And if I never wore the outfit from last night again that would be too soon. I want to burn that outfit.
Which is really saying something, because I bought that skirt at full price. It was one of my wardrobe staples.
We’ll have to stop at a store and get me something.
