Possessive Fake Husband

“How long did that last?” I ask, smiling a little at the thought of serious, intense Aunt Sylvia getting yelled at by her mother.

“Oh, years,” he says. “But she stopped eventually. Got old enough to realize nobody cared what she had to say and sort of started to bottle it up, I guess.”

“That’s almost sad,” I admit.

“No, it’s not. You wouldn’t think it was sad if you had it sit through one of her incessant ramblings.”

I laugh a little. “Okay, fair enough.”

“Before marrying your uncle, she was much more… Reserved. Laidback, even. She was always really smart, don’t get me wrong. Top of her class in high school and all that. But she never took herself too seriously until that family came along.”

“Now she’s different,” I say.

“Now she’s very different.”

“Do you and her get along?”

“Not really,” he admits. “We don’t talk much though. I try to keep things civil but she seems to have lost interest in reaching out, which suits me fine enough most days.”

“But back then, were you friends?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says with a laugh. “We were close. It was always the two of us against our parents. At least until we both grew up a little bit and grew apart. But it wasn’t until she married that we really stopped being friends.”

I frown and look down at the floorboards. I can imagine how talkative but smart Sylvia could go from a lovable, normal girl to what she is now. It’s not impossible to see it, the way my dad talks about her. It’s almost sad to think about what she gave up and what she lost by joining that family

But I don’t have time to pity her.

“What should I do, Dad?” I ask him.

“Stay the course,” he says. “Is that what Josh said?”

I laugh. “He told her he wouldn’t do what she wants straight out to her face.”

Dad whistles. “I like that guy. I would’ve loved to see that.”

“It was terrifying.”

“I bet it was. She’s not used to that sort of thing anymore.”

“Josh figured, we’re screwed either way, so we might as well keep trying.”

“He’s right.” Dad laughs again. “Listen to him. Keep going. I’ll try to talk to my sister, see what I can do.”

“Thanks, but don’t get yourself in trouble.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not afraid of little Sylvie. Like I said, she wasn’t always so scary, and I remember those days.”

“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it.”

“Sure. And hey, if you’re still worried, call one of your cousins. They’re good kids. They might help.”

I smile a little. “That’s a good idea. I’ll try Lora. We always got along.”

“Good thinking. Good luck, kiddo. Keep me updated. I’m ready to merge whenever Josh gets the green light.”

“Bye, Dad.”

I hang up the phone and flop back in bed for a long moment. I close my eyes and try to picture Aunt Sylvia as a little girl, precocious and talkative. I can almost see it, can almost picture her parents yelling at her for talking too much. But the image drifts away.

I sit up and head downstairs. I make some coffee and find a note from Josh. At the office. I have something for you later. -J

I smile and slip it into my pocket. I don’t know why I do it, but there’s something sweet about having a guy that leaves me notes. Whatever relationship is building between us feels good, and I’m actively trying not to think too much about it. I do what I like, I touch him, I kiss him, I keep moving forward. I don’t know what else I could do.

I sip my coffee and walk out into the backyard. There’s a small metal table under a little tree, and the shade from the branches is nice as I sit on the hard chair and kick my feet up on the other chair across from me. I swipe through my phone, find my cousin’s number, and call her up.

She answers after a few rings, right when I think she’s about to let it go to voicemail. “Hey, Mags!”

“Hi, Lora,” I say. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know, pretty good. Hey, sorry, hold on one second, okay?” I hear some muffled noises, some voices, some movement. Then she comes back on. “Okay, sorry about that.”

“Is this a bad time?” I ask.

“Not at all.” She laughs a little. “That was just Dean being an asshole.”

“Tell him I said hello.”

She says something away from the receiver. “He says what’s up. Hey, how are you? I’m happy you called. I was just thinking about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I want to come visit you in a few months. I haven’t been to Philly in a while. And I hear you got married.”

“I did,” I say, laughing. “You’ll like Josh. He’s a good guy.”

“Better be, if he married my cousin. And don’t worry, I’m not bitter at all that I wasn’t invited.”