Declan and I arrive back in Minnesota late Friday evening. We’ve almost been married for one whole week. One down, fifty-two to go.
My nerves ramp up as he pulls into the garage at his house. I only have the bags I had for the wedding and honeymoon with me. I packed up everything I wanted in my apartment the day before the wedding, and had it sent to Scarlett’s house while we were gone. It felt like a safe plan at the time, in case Declan hadn’t shown up to the wedding, or any other myriad of possible issues that could have arisen, but now it feels like a pain. I am so tired and the last thing I want to do is go get my stuff, but I want the comfort of having my belongings around me.
Declan carries our bags into the house. I follow behind him, feeling like a stray animal he’s taking in for a while. Something shifted between us last night. An acceptance that no matter our attraction, nothing else is going to happen.
The house is big and open. Tools and construction materials line the kitchen counter, and his living room holds a really big couch that takes up most of the large area. The only other furniture is a dark wood coffee table and a Declan-size recliner.
It’s hard to see beyond the many projects going, but he points out the new flooring and windows on our way up the stairs to the bedrooms.
“My office is downstairs,” he says. “It’s mostly filled with weights and workout machines now. Eventually, all that will move to the garage, I think.”
“The garage?” I question because when he pulled into the four-car garage, I didn’t see a lot of room for anything else. Besides his Ferrari, he has the motorcycle and four-wheeler he told me about, plus a Mercedes SUV. Not to mention, the many tools that are also taking up a decent amount of the space.
“I’m thinking of selling the Mercedes. That’ll give you room to park in the garage.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say.
He doesn’t respond; instead, he heads down a long hallway and flicks on a light in a room at the end of it. “This is the only room that doesn’t have shit stacked up in it right now or wallpaper I need to remove. It’s also the second biggest room in the house. Mine is at the other end.”
He walks in just far enough to let me pass.
“This is the second biggest?” I mutter, mostly to myself. I think mine and Sam’s apartment could fit inside the space.
He chuckles softly. “I wasn’t sure what furniture you had. Anything you don’t want, just let me know and I’ll move it out tomorrow.”
The bed looks heavenly. It’s upholstered in a beige tone, that feels too feminine to believe Declan picked it out, and has lots of white fluffy blankets stacked on top. I pick up a cherry red throw pillow.
“It’s gorgeous. I was going to shop for a new bed this week. Most of the furniture I had at the apartment belonged to Sam. The rest of my stuff is in Leo’s garage. I don’t have much.”
“Do you want me to grab it all now?” He takes a step back into the hall.
“No.” I stop him. He’s already done too much. I can get it all tomorrow after a good night’s sleep. “I’m good tonight. All I want to do is shower and crash.”
“Let me show you where that is.”
“Great.” I toss the pillow and give the bed one last longing look. I cannot wait to get clean and climb under the covers. Just the thought of stepping under the warm spray has my muscles relaxing.
Declan heads back down the hall. I look closer at the other rooms we pass this time. They’re empty, except for boxes and a few pieces of furniture, like he hasn’t decided what to make of the spaces yet.
I’m staring into a room with an ugly rose and hunter green border around the top of the walls and nearly collide into the back of him.
“Oh, shit,” he says, just loud enough for me to make out the words.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He turns the handle of the door in front of him and it swings open. I follow his gaze inside the bathroom. He moves forward a step and flips on the light, then lets out another string of curses.
“Woah,” I say, staying behind him but peering inside.
The entire bathroom is wrecked. An old toilet has been pulled from where it was once located near the sink (or what’s left of the sink) and is in the middle of the room. The walls are the only thing still intact, and they’re covered in an ugly striped wallpaper that has yellowed with age.
Declan rubs two fingers between his eyes. “I forgot I demo’ed this right before we left.”
“You did this?” Carefully, I step farther into the room.
“I like to hit things with a sledgehammer occasionally.” A boyish grin takes over his face and then it drops. “I’m sorry. There’s another full bath downstairs, or you can use mine until I get this put back together.”
“It’s a great space.”
“Too big really. The master has everything I need—a huge shower and dual vanities.”
“No tub?”
He shakes his head.
“You need a tub.” I walk over to where I think the tub or shower was before. “Not here though, over there.” I point under the window. “One of those clawfoot tubs.”
“I don’t take baths.”
“You’re missing out.”
He aims that easy smile of his at me again. “Twenty minutes in my shower and you’ll never want to take a bath again.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, arching a brow. I don’t know what it says about me that my mind is always ready to take a leap to sexual innuendos when it comes to Declan, but I can’t stop the flashes of memories of our night together.
He chuckles softly. “Not what I meant, but yes. Follow me. This shower is the solution to all the world’s problems.”
Declan walks me into his room and waves a hand toward an open door leading to his bathroom. “Straight through there. Towels are in the cabinet. If you need anything, just holler. I’ll be downstairs.”
“Thanks.”
He lingers for a second longer and then leaves me, closing the door behind him. Before heading into shower, I take in his bedroom. The room is painted a light gray and his bed and nightstands have a dark wood finish. It’s simple and masculine, no real personal touches, except a framed jersey, from what I guess is his high school or minor league team, hanging on one wall.
I walk by the dresser, pick up a watch and set it back down. Loose change and a receipt are the only other things in view. No photos or anything that gives me any more insight into my new husband.
In the bathroom, I gasp. It’s stunning. The same wood tones and gray walls carry through into this room. The shower is giant with clear walls and what look like a million jet sprays. Eagerly, I strip down and get inside. While the water soothes my tired muscles, I squirt a glop of soap into my hand and the scent I’ve only ever thought of as Declan fills the room.
Damn. He might have been right. All my problems feel very small in here. Except the one where I wish Declan would take off all his clothes and join me.
On Monday morning, I wake up early and get ready for work. After that first night, I’ve started using the bathroom downstairs. It’s easier, and I don’t have to worry about asking Declan if it’s okay first. He assured me I could use it whenever, but while living together, the only real respite is our individual bedrooms, and I don’t want to invade his space. Also, I need to get a grip. I can’t walk around imagining him naked and pushing me into walls to kiss me for an entire year. A little time and distance will hopefully help.
I know Declan is up because coffee is made and it smells faintly of bacon in the kitchen, but there’s no sight of him as I pour myself a small cup and then head out the back door. There’s a fence around the property, but someone put in a gate that opens into Leo’s backyard. Scarlett is sitting on the patio with her own coffee.
“’Morning,” she says.
“Morning.” I take a seat across from her, taking in her shorts and tank. “Are you heading into the office today?”
“No. Melody has me covering a shoot on location.” She smiles at me. “Today is the day!”
My stomach flips twice and I set my mug down. Today the newest issue of I Do hits shelves.
“Have you seen it yet?” my best friend asks.
“No. You?”
“No. Not yet.” She cocks her head to the side and her smile grows. “It’s going to be great. The wedding was beautiful and the reception was a blast.”
“Somehow, this all makes it so much more real.”
“Oh, it’s real, honey.” She leans forward and picks up my left hand. I’ve gotten used to wearing the wedding ring and forget it’s on most of the time. It’s hard to explain because I know how much a ring like this means to most women, but it’s just a ring. Maybe it feels different when someone gets down on one knee and vows to love you forever, offering the ring as a symbol of that bond.
But for me, it’s just a piece of really nice jewelry to convince other people I’m someone I’m not. Although, I guess I am now married. My head spins at the mess I’ve created. I breathe through my nose. It’s all going to work out, somehow.
“How are things going over there?” she asks, taking another sip of her coffee.
“We mostly avoided each other this weekend. Thanks for bringing my stuff, by the way. I was hiding out in my room, binge-watching Bachelor in Paradise.”
“I didn’t bring it by. Declan came by at the crack of dawn, knocking until Leo opened the garage for him.”
“Oh.” My cheeks warm. I just assumed, which was dumb. I should have known it was Declan. He’s always more considerate than I expect. I don’t know how I’m going to repay him for that. I wonder if you ever get to a point with a partner, where their expression of love or consideration feels normal and not like you owe them something. Sam and I had a system where we split everything—bills, cleaning, cooking.
“I better go.” I stand with my mug. “See you tonight?”
She nods. “I’ll come by when I get home. I want to see your new place and read the article with you.”
“It isn’t really mine, but sure. We can hang in my room and flip through magazines like we’re teenagers again. My bed is big enough for the both of us, plus a few friends.”
A mischievous grin lifts the corners of her mouth. “Or you and one big, hunky hockey player.”
The office of I Do magazine is buzzing with excitement. I can feel it the second I step off the elevator. The usual quiet, low murmuring of voices and tired eyes first thing on a Monday morning is replaced with enthusiastic chatter and wide smiles as people hold copies of the latest issue. My fingers itch to grab one and see exactly what Melody wrote.
As I walk to my desk, I get more than the usual hellos and good morning greetings. I have a few coworkers I talk with in the break room, or go to an occasional lunch or happy hour, but this is different. It’s almost like I’m being seen by people who have never given me a second glance before now. It doesn’t make any sense to me. My articles were already one of the most popular on the site, so why the sudden friendliness, just because my wedding landed in a feature story? They all knew this was happening. We’ve been planning the issue for months. Ever since BuzzFeed picked up one of my articles.
A copy of the magazine rests on my desk, a large Post-it stuck to the front with my name scrawled in Melody’s handwriting. Before I can reach for it, the woman herself appears in front of me, wearing her sunglasses and carrying her purse.
“Let’s go for a little walk,” she says, like that’s something we do on the regular.
“Umm…” I glance back at the magazine.
“Come on then. It won’t take long.”
“All right.” I fall into step behind her. Now all eyes really are on me. I muster a smile and pretend like all is well.
Melody says nothing as we get into the elevator and she hits the button for the lobby. Is she firing me? A cool sweat breaks out at the nape of my neck. I swallow around the lump forming in my throat, while my mind spins with reasons she might be angry. Is she upset about how the wedding went? I didn’t think so, but maybe she changed her mind.
Is she angry that I didn’t work more while on my honeymoon? I did the few things I’d promised, but ultimately decided to actually enjoy the time off, since I wasn’t getting paid, and I was on a once-in-a-lifetime trip. She is all work, so maybe that’s it?
Her heels click on the lobby floor in a quick rhythm. She still doesn’t speak.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t been available the past week, but I did take a lot of notes and I started an article on the honeymoon, focusing on different options based on a couple’s vacation preferences. The best places to go and things to do for adventurous couples versus couples who want to relax and unwind.”
She holds the door open for me and we step outside. The office building sets on a busy downtown street, so she heads for the crosswalk and we go across. A coffee shop and a bagel place are just a couple of the nearby shops. Is she buying me a farewell latte?
Instead of stopping at either of those stores, she goes to a small convenience store and again holds the door open for me to go first.
“What are we doing here?” I finally ask.
She removes her sunglasses and holds them in one hand in front of her. “We made some changes to this month’s issue of the magazine while you were gone.”
“Oh.” My mouth forms the word, but it’s barely audible. It all clicks into place. “You decided not to feature the wedding.”
It doesn’t come out as a question. It’s a statement. Of course, that’s what she decided. It was a sham wedding. Can I really blame her? I put on a white dress and said vows to a man I barely know. Somehow her firing me feels like the universe giving me the finger for trying to fake happily ever after.
Her lips purse and then she waves a hand to a display near the register. “We decided to do a double feature and put you on the cover.”
I can’t make sense of the words, but I let my gaze slide to where she’s motioning. I inhale sharply, letting out a little gasp. On the cover of I Do is me and Declan, looking like the quintessential bride and groom.
