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“So, if I get to choose, I want a blue rose bouquet, ranging from dark navy to pastel. Since we’ll be the only ones seeing it, no one would be upset.”
“Can we have live music? I was so confused why there was canned music for the ceremony when there was a small orchestral ensemble at the reception.”
“Right?” Jaclyn playfully swats at my chest. “That wasmymother. She insisted the acoustics were off, but I still would’ve preferred live musicians.”
For the next hour, until she drifts off in my arms, we watch the purple and red fade from the sky as we plan our vow renewal that will never happen, but I allow myself to pretend all the same.
Chapter 23
Jaclyn
Alex and I sleep in, missing his morning run before the sun comes up. His discipline for it still baffles me. As I drink my coffee and watch him jog down the beach away from the villa, it clicks why he does it—this time is just for him. It’s quiet, except for the waves crashing or occasional bird. I soak in the serenity that’s a stark contrast from Washington. The stress of the wedding and everything that followed melts away as I sit out here, enjoying the cool ocean breeze whipping around me.
With the gala rapidly approaching, I open my laptop, checking and double checking the details. Everything seems to be in order, except for the bachelor auction—we need two more. The gala is still a few weeks away; plenty of time to find a couple of eligible men of the right caliber. Chris typically participated, even when we were engaged. “It’s for charity,” I’d remind myself each year, only for him to come back from his ‘date’ liquored up,with lipstick on his collar. Thankfully, my dry cleaner assumed it was mine, despite my never wearing those shades of lip color in my life. Then again, he didn’t need a gala auction to come home with the excuse that his mother hugged him earlier.
After spending an hour agonizing over the event and texting Ileah as mid-work procrastination, I head inside to make myself a third cup of coffee. It’s been ages since I’ve had to prepare my own that didn’t include pods, and I take pleasure in filling the pot with water, pouring it into the machine, scooping the grounds into the filter, screwing up the brew time, trying again and resetting it…
I’ll need to make a point of insisting that I make my own coffee when I get home. Though, the thought of returning to Washington, and spending half the year in Florida, fills me with dread.
The smell of freshly brewed goodness fills the small kitchen, and as I’m pouring the coffee into my mug, the sliding door opens. “That was fast. Would you like a cup?” Topping my coffee with vanilla creamer, I hum as Alex kisses my shoulder and snakes his arm around me, pulling me against his soft chest.
Soft chest?
No.
“I’d love one,wife.” The dark voice sends a chill down my limbs, and all the air leaves my lungs. My heart is stuck in my damn throat.
“Well,husband, would you like cream and sugar?” I manage with a shaky breath.
With a feather-light touch, Chris traces a pattern along the side of my neck and chuckles, “Someone’s been busy.”
“Oh, yeah, curling iron burns. From the wedding,” I lie, though he has no room to judge me after what he did. He doesn’t get to waltz in here and accuse me of anything.Hewas the one who broke us. “I was doing a touch up before the ceremony and should’ve had a professional do it. Ha-have you seen Alex?”
“No, but it’s just as well,” he replies knowingly. “We haveso muchto catch up on.”
I’m able to step out of his hold to grab a second mug from the overhead cabinet. “Oh, my dearest husband, we definitely do.” I finally turn and face the man who ruined my life with a fucking blowjob. If I’m being honest, perhaps he saved me. I married the one man I’ve wanted for years. A blessing, not a curse. I keep my posture straight and an emotionless expression, even while I’m screaming inside. “I’m happy to see you’ve recovered quickly.”
As I set the cup next to mine, I pour coffee into his, but don’t bother with adding sugar or cream. Instead, I take a seat at the small dining table—if he wants to doctor his coffee, he can do it himself.
Following my lead, Chris joins me with the coffee he wouldn’t drink in a million years. His steps are slow; the pain is likely getting the best of him. I bring the mug tomy lips for a small sip, keeping my eyes on him, and as he’s about to take a drink of his, he thinks better of it and sets it down.
His sinister tone from earlier is gone as he says the one thing I expect, “I’m sorry, Jaclyn.”
“For?” I ask flatly. This is just like the hospital; it isn’t as if I’ll get an iota of truth from him.
“I told you, our wedding.”
“And what aboutbeforethe wedding?”
His jaw tics. “Alex told you, didn’t he?”
“I’d like to know what happened, from you.”
“An accident,” he doubles down on his omissions.
I take another sip of my coffee, contemplating my next move. While I’ve never loved him, it still hurts that he cheated on me for years… including our wedding day, nonetheless. He’s been doing it for as long as I can remember, but it’s the blatant lack of respect that has scorching heat creeping up my neck. I’d love nothing more than to toss my coffee into his lap.
It’s only a matter of time before we’ll get a replacement marriage certificate, and I’ll be tied to Chris for the rest of our lives. The pressure from my family was the only reason I entertained the idea of being married to Chris in the first place. I never should’ve allowed Alex to stand in for him.
