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The penthouse suite looks out over San Diego Bay. Coronado Island is a little to the left, and beyond that is the entire Pacific Ocean.
For a girl who’s used to beautiful views out the window of some of those ten thousand lakes Minnesota is known for, paired with the vines and trees that represent my entire family…I’m stunned into silence.
Minnesota is pretty, sure. But it’s not the beach, and there’s something tranquil about looking out over land that isn’t a part of my family history.
It’s a completely different feeling than the one back home. This isn’t home, but it’s my husband’s home, and I could get used to this life, too.
Just not at the expense of having to leave Minnesota. This is vacation…temporary. That is home…permanent.
Spencer walks up beside me. “The view is what sold me on the place. It’s a little more than I wanted to spend for a rental, but it’s worth it to come home and look out at that.”
“I can imagine,” I say. I turn toward him. “Show me around.”
He nods. “Well, this is the view.” He turns and sweeps his hands out. “And this is the place. Kitchen, building table…I mean dinner table.” He points to the table as I chuckle. “Family room,” he continues, pointing out the couch aimed at the television hung on the wall. I spot a few Lego sets here and there, and I follow him down a hallway next. “Lego room,” he says, pointing into what I assume is one of the guest rooms. There’s a project table in the middle, a television hanging on one wall, and shelves and shelves of completed sets all around the room. This view is out the other side of the building, boasting a city view that’s not as pretty as the ocean side but is still incredibly interesting to look at.
I spot the Millennium Falcon in a place of honor on one of the largest shelves, and I walk over toward it. “The piece de résistance,” I say formally, and he laughs as I inspect some of the other sets he’s built in here. “Did you take them all apart when you moved here?” I ask.
He nods. “This is just what I’ve built since I moved in. And this is my Lego closet.” He opens the walk-in closet, and Lego boxes are neatly stacked on shelving units spanning from the floor up to the ceiling, and they appear to be organized by branding. It’s impressive, to say the least.
He is really the cutest.
And so, so perfect for me.
But it appears fate has other plans for us…ones we don’t even see coming.
Chapter 42: Spencer Nash
Nash Is Trash
A Few Weeks After the Wedding
The Lego closet was a hit, and I showed her our bedroom last, where we ended up spending a little quality time enjoying the view out the window naked from the bed together before we decided to head out for a walk.
But the walk turns into a bit of a clusterfuck when that same dude who was on the sidewalk when we walked in earlier stands there when we leave. It’s as if he’s been waiting this entire time for us.
“I heard your marriage is fake. Is that true?” he demands as we walk out of the building and take a left toward the bay.
“No,” I tell him. “Please leave us alone.”
He doesn’t follow us, but as we walk toward the stoplight to cross at the crosswalk, we find more cameras poised at us.
I think back to her words about her quiet existence. I get it. It’s all I want for myself, too.
I brought her here for a taste of my life, and this ain’t it.
The paparazzi weren’t hounding me when I moved here. They barely acknowledged my existence, to be honest.
Is this what marriage does? Puts celebrities and athletes into the spotlight? I think about former teammates of mine who got married. As I recall, it wasn’t even a blip on the radar of these gossip mongers.
But those guys didn’t hail from football royalty the way I do. Those guys didn’t have a family of brothers who also play in the league.
I guess that makes my stake worth something more.
But I don’t like it.
“Do you still want to walk?” I ask her quietly as I try to ignore the three men now tailing us down the sidewalk and across the street.
“Not with them following us,” she says.
