Marriage For One

I swallowed down my emotions, not even sure what I was supposed to feel anymore, and that little voice that was screaming at me to go outside to face him came unstuck. Avoiding glancing at him and ignoring his eyes following me, I quickly moved to the library. I couldn’t grab a random book and disappear from sight; I didn’t even know what I was supposed to do with a book, let alone trying to pick one. I fought back tears because there was no reason whatsoever for me to cry. It was over and done with.

It was okay, but I knew I wouldn’t be. I let the tears fall and just picked a damn book that was within reach then, as calmly as I could manage, walked back into the kitchen. As soon as I was out of his sight, I leaned back against the wall and wiped at my tears.

I was still very much pissed off and hurt. It was a tossup between the two of us as to who I was angrier with—him or myself. My heart was broken, replaced with a constant ache. I was such a damn fool for thinking he had been honest with me every step of the way. I’d thought he was too serious not to be. My words, my last words to him echoed back in my head, along with the surprised and hurt look on his face when I’d spoken them. I knew I’d screwed it up at the end there, but I had wanted to hurt him. I’d wanted him to hurt just like I was because misery always loves company.

I chanced another peek and saw he was still standing in the same spot. He hadn’t moved an inch. It should’ve felt stalkerish, him standing outside, wearing a black coat as he leaned against the lamp pole, but it didn’t. It hurt my heart even more to see him standing there alone in the snow.

He wasn’t happy.

I wasn’t happy.

I wished we could’ve been unhappy together, under the same roof, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t look at his face and ignore that he had lied to me so monumentally. What if I had hated him, hated everything about him?

Marriage for one, please! Coming right up!

But then…

But then…that’s when things started to get tricky. As much as I hated to admit it, if he wasn’t lying now and what he had said about Joshua was true, it looked like he had saved me from him. He had given me my dream, and on a silver platter. Not a coffee shop, but a family. Someone I could lean on. He had done all of that just for the chance of a shot with me, for me. He was in love with me, and that knowledge threatened to pull the rug out from beneath my feet.

He was in love with me.

Then again, I already knew that. I’d seen it in his beautiful blue eyes, day after day. I knew the exact moment, that first time I’d seen it, seen the possibility of us: in that dark hospital room when he had crawled in bed with me. That was the first night I’d thought, You know what, Rose, maybe he actually likes you. Despite all his prickliness and, at times, arrogance, despite all the scowling looks, maybe he really cares about you.

Feeling dizzy, I slid down the wall and let my head rest against it. I didn’t know how many minutes passed, but when I felt okay enough to move again, I glanced around the corner, making sure I wasn’t visible to him just in case he was still standing there.

He was.

We had ended as we begun.

I watched him from the safety of the kitchen’s doorway, the book I’d picked forgotten on the floor beside me. I must have fallen asleep sometime after four AM and jumped up in a panic when Owen walked through the door with a confused look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing on the floor?”

My mouth was dry, my eyes burning, and my voice came out all scratchy when I tried to speak. “Good morning to you too, sunshine. Just getting some shut-eye, as you can see.”

“Right, because that’s what you do on the floor. What was Jack doing outside?”

After a few attempts at getting up, I gave up and got on my knees so I could hold on to the edge of the island and pull myself up. “What are you talking about?”

Owen offered me his hand and helped me.

“He was right outside, half frozen from the looks of him. He said good morning and then left. Is this your version of spicing up your marriage, or did you guys have a fight or something?”

I pushed my hair away from my face. “Or something,” I mumbled.