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But that’s been over nearly three months now, and now I’m married to this woman who is going to get to run her vineyard someday.
Maybe it’s okay to acknowledge those things.
Chapter 19: Grace Nash
You’ve Done Enough
The Day After the Wedding
I feel slightly less terrible once I’m done with my shower, and I find Spencer sitting on the bed staring at me when I walk out of the bathroom.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
“I’m okay,” he grunts.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next. Do I go home? I got what I came here for, but it feels somehow wrong to leave now.
Grayson and Ava deserve an apology from us, at the very least.
“I was thinking—” I begin at the same time he says, “I had some ideas—”
We both pause, and he nods at me to go ahead.
“I was just thinking I’d like to apologize to Grayson and Ava,” I say softly.
“Yes. We need to. And I have a few ideas regarding how we can attempt to make this up to them.”
I nod. “And?”
“My mom had some ideas, actually. I’ll get their clothes cleaned, and she suggested something special for Ava to wear to make the dress different. I thought maybe champagne each night in their room on their honeymoon. And there’s one other thing, but I’m waiting to hear back from a friend.”
I sit down beside him. “Okay, yes. Those are all good things. What can I do to help?”
He presses his lips together and shakes his head a little. “Nothing. You’ve done enough.”
His words rip through me. He blames me for this, and while yes, I’m the one who came here with this crazy idea, he’s the one who agreed to it. Maybe we were wasted out of our minds, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was a willing participant in what occurred last night, and I refuse to sit here and take the full blame for it.
Even though it was my Benadryl.
It was his tequila.
And now I’m getting defensive and snippy even in my own head. This is ridiculous.
Before I get a chance to put a voice to any of those thoughts, he says, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
“Thank you for acknowledging that.” It’s a good step toward better communication, anyway, and isn’t communication the base of every successful marriage?
That’s what Nana says, anyway. And she would know. She’s one of the few who I can look to for what success means in a marriage.
I should call her. I should tell her what I did last night.
Oh, God. I’m going to have to tell my dad that I got married.
And Amelia, but somehow that doesn’t feel quite so daunting.
No…all that can wait.
I rushed to Vegas without a backward glance, and I’ll be returning to the vineyard with a husband.
