Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
It’s. Happening!
“Do you, Zachary, take Emersyn to be your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold from this day forward …”
I hear the words faithful, love, honor, cherish, for as long as you both shall live. My lungs crave oxygen, but I can’t seem to get enough.
Breathe … breathe … breathe …
Then, as if he reads my mind, Zach says, “I do,” and leans forward next to my ear to whisper, “Breathe, Emersyn.”
His words and his warm breath brand my skin.
“Do you, Emersyn …” The judge continues like she has other things to do today. Maybe she has a dental appointment too.
Maybe I should have scheduled something today like a manicure or a psychiatric appointment. I could use some therapy.
There’s the longest pause after the judge asks me that final question.
“…as long as you both shall live?”
It’s times like these that I feel grateful for my experiences with Brady. I had anal sex in exchange for a shower. Is fraud really too big of a risk for health insurance and cheap airfare? I think not.
“I do,” I say.
“I now declare you husband and wife.”
I’m too busy being so proud of myself for coming to terms with this and answering before things get too suspicious, that I totally forget the final—albeit optional—act.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Oh shit …
We didn’t make a decision on this. He asked. I started to reply. The judge called us in here. And now … we have to decide. I give a quick glance to the judge. She appears rather pleased and happy for us. We must look like an adorable, although fraudulent, couple. Forgoing the kiss will be a red flag. I feel it.
Inching forward a tiny step, I look up at Zach and rub my glossed lips together while gulping to keep my fear in check. He reads my silent acceptance and ducks his head until his lips are nearly touching mine. A breath of hesitation exists, even if the judge doesn’t see it. I think, maybe I hope, he’s taking this fraction of a second to get permission from Suzie or maybe to just remind himself it’s only an act—a means to something greater. A humanitarian act if you will.
The kiss is short and soft, but long enough for everything in my head to spin until I forget what we’re doing. My hand rests on his chest to keep me balanced, but he ends the kiss and grabs my hand, bringing it to my side and giving it a gentle, platonic squeeze.
It says we are friends. I care about you as a friend. Here is your health insurance, but you don’t need to know the outline of my chest.
We get our marriage certificate and bounce before anyone has a chance to question us.
“I have time to run you home before my appointment,” Zach says while retrieving his wedding band from his pocket and slipping it back onto his finger.
I ignore the little reminder that he’s not mine and instead focus on the fact that he’s spending our honeymoon with a dental hygienist. I might be slightly jealous that she’s going to be in his mouth for forty-five minutes—up close and personal with my new husband. Good lord … I hope Suzie can only read his mind and not mine. How do I break it to my best friend (or maybe admit it, since she already knew) that I have a massive crush on her husband? Oh … and he’s no longer her husband. He’s mine.
I’m losing my mind! I’m not really crushing on Zach. I’m infatuated with the idea of Zach. The perfect man. And Suzie’s voice is stuck in my head, making ridiculous accusations that Zach and I look at each other in some subconscious way that implies more than friendship. She was sick … and, therefore delusional. Right?
“Okay. Or I can grab a cab.” I shrug.
“No. I’ll drive you.” He opens my door. I try not to think the words my husband is such a gentleman, but I can’t help it. As much as it feels wrong like I stole something invaluable from my best friend, it also feels a little amazing to be married to Zach. And now it bears repeating—I could use some therapy.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Marriage hasn’t changed Zach at all, not that I expected it to change him. I’m sure the only way he can make this right in his head, so quickly after Suzie’s death, is to think of it as nothing more than a donation to a charity.
I’m the charity.
“Hey,” he says, arriving home after being gone for four nights.
I glance up from the sofa with my computer on the arm of it and Harry Pawter on my lap. “Hey.” It’s hard to control my grin.
“Have you had dinner?”
“Yep. Pizza. There are leftovers in the fridge.”
“Sounds perfect.” He thumbs through the stack of mail on the credenza. “Look at this.” He rips open an envelope and pulls out a card, holding it up for me to see.