Overnight Wife

I should know. I bought it for them.

My parents are already waiting out front, arms hooked around one another. The end of the drive is filled with cars. Extended family, friends of the family, distant relatives. My parents love doing this—hosting events, throwing parties. Showing off the property their son earned them.

It was their idea to make this a surprise. When they learned about Mara—when they learned that I finally, finally settled down, as they’ve been trying to force me to do for years—they insisted. But now, watching her reaction shift from surprise to confusion to worry, I wonder yet again if this was the right move. If I shouldn’t have told her everything, right from the beginning.

“What is this, John?” Mara murmurs as I park right in front of the drive, in the spot of honor. My dad waves, and my mom beams like she’s just won some kind of award.

In her mind, she probably has.

“My parents wanted to meet my new wife,” I tell her, shutting off the engine. “They insisted on throwing a party. It’s not huge; just some friends and family—”

“You didn’t warn me I’d be meeting your parents,” she hisses under her breath. But there’s no time for her to build up steam. The door is already sliding open, and my parents are calling their hellos.

“You must be Mara.” My mom reaches her first, before Mara even has time to fully exit the car. She wraps her in a tight bear hug, and then Dad joins in, shaking her hand like she’s a business partner, not my wife.

Well. I suppose both terms are accurate, technically.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” Mom is gushing, although that’s not strictly accurate. They didn’t even know Mara existed until I finally admitted it to them a few days ago. Less than a week.

Mara shoots me a confused look over Mom’s shoulder, but she hugs her back, and deals with my dad’s hand-pumping decently well.

“Mom.” I step over to kiss her cheek. “Give her some breathing room; you’re going to suffocate her.”

“Of course, of course.” Mom backs away, although there’s still a hungry glean in her eye as she assesses Mara. “Come in, darling, have some lunch. You must be famished. Eating for two and all.” Mom winks, and I groan under my breath.

Already?

Mara’s face flushes, and she frowns, confused. “Er… no, just eating for the one, actually,” she says, and it’s embarrassingly obvious how quickly my mother’s expression deflates with disappointment.

Still, at least she doesn’t press the issue, hooking an arm through Mara’s and leading her toward the house. I fall into step beside my father and trail after them.

“Your mother’s beside herself,” he says.

“With happiness or annoyance?” I respond archly.

Dad chuckles. “You know her. Why not both at once?” He shoots me a sideways look. “She’s pleased you’re finally settling down, of course. But she wanted a big wedding, a splashy engagement party…” Dad gestures at the house. “Hence all of this hoopla, naturally.”

“I thought you told me you could tamper her. That this would just be a small get-together.” I side-eye the driveway, unable to stop counting. At least a dozen cars, maybe more.

“This is small,” Dad insists. “You should have seen the original guest list she wanted.”

I roll my eyes with a groan, but it’s quickly drowned by the roar of our relatives as we enter the house. My cousins swarm, followed by aunts, uncles, friends of my parents. Mara has time to catch my eye just once, panic written all over her face, before she’s swallowed in hugs and congratulations.

I watch them watching her. Some of their congratulations are heartfelt, sincere. Others are grasping, reaching. Most of my relatives are decent people, really. But they look at my bank account; they see my name in the newspapers, and they can’t help themselves. After all, decent people or not, everyone’s attitudes shift when they get close to money. Especially the kind of money I have.

The kind of money that let me buy a house like this for my parents. The kind of money that restored this family name to the prominence it once had, way back when.

I care about my family, of course. But you can’t choose your family. And mine, well… they can be more of a handful than most.

I weave through a sea of aunts to reach Mara, and loop an arm around her waist, feeling how tense every muscle in her body is. She tilts her head back to rest against my shoulder, in a move that raises a sea of awws from the surrounding family members. But when she leans in to whisper in my ear, it’s not the sort of sweet-nothing I’m sure they imagine she’s saying.

“What the hell did you just throw me into?” she whispers.

I lean down to kiss her jawline, right where it reaches the lobe of her ear. My tongue darts across her diamond earring, toying with it, making a little sigh escape her lips before I respond. “My parents wanted it to be a surprise,” I murmur, my breath ghosting across her cheek, drawing a little shiver from her. “My mother insisted that I owed her. I believe the words were ‘you robbed me of a wedding.’”