Don't Kiss the Bride

I reel back from the shock of hearing the words I’ve been dying for him to say. But not like this, not in the middle of an argument.

“That’s how you’re going to say that to me? What the hell?”

He snorts. “At least I didn’t say it while I thought you were sleeping.”

My insides freeze up. Shit. I had no idea he heard me that night when I whispered I love you to him.

“At least I actually said it!” I throw back tearfully.

He shoves the blueprints to the side. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go. Everything is fucked up.”

I’ve never been so confused in my life. What does he want? Why does this have to be such a struggle?

“Jude, please just talk to me. What’s going on in your head?”

“Is this really what you want? You want me to just throw all my cards on the table right now? When my head’s all twisted up and we’re both in a bad mood?”

“Yes,” I say with my heart palpitating. “I do.”

He covers his face with his hands for a few seconds, pressing his fingers into his forehead.

“I’m afraid of everything,” he finally says. “Saying too much, not saying enough. Holding you back from the life you’re supposed to have. Us staying together and then you waking up in ten years filled with regret and animosity, wishing you hadn’t strapped yourself to someone when you were so young. I’m afraid of losing everything at a time in my life when I finally want to keep everything.”

“Strapped myself?” I repeat. “I don’t think wanting to be with you is strapping myself. And don’t you think I have fears, too? You don’t think I worry that you’ll want a woman who can actually give you a blowjob?”

He scoffs and flashes me an incredulous look. “Are you fuckin’ serious? That’s the lamest, shallowest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Okay, that’s true. But it’s the first thing that sprung to my mind.

“Maybe you’ll want someone more mature.”

“Nope.”

“Maybe you won’t even want to be married to me.”

“I never did, until you came along and kept falling in front of me, then into me, then for me.”

I’m guilty of all the above, but maybe fate had a hand in my chronic clumsiness.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Jude. And I don’t think you’ll hurt me, either.”

“I think you believe that now. But you’re only eighteen. Do you know how much will change over the years? Your likes and dislikes? What you want in life? Who you want? When you’re thirty, I’ll be almost fifty. What’s that gonna look like?”

“And that’s not shallow? I’m pretty sure I’m never going to care about our age difference. I care about making each other happy and being there for each other. Growing together. Plus, you’re going to be hot as hell when you’re fifty. So, I’m all good, Jude.”

He sighs and closes his eyes. I can tell he’s in pain and mentally exhausted, and it makes my heart hurt that I’m the cause of it right now. “I don’t know, Skylar. None of this was supposed to happen. I wanted to get married to help you, and you ended up getting attacked by my sister and getting bullied out of school. Even my best of intentions get all fucked up. I don’t know how to protect you from what life is going to throw at us, and this age difference shit doesn’t help. It’s just another obstacle that could end up hurting you.”

“You don’t have to protect me. None of that was your fault. Now that I’m out of school, I don’t care what people think about our ages. Do you think I want to be with a guy my age, who most likely has no idea what he wants to do with his life and can’t handle a real commitment? I know that’s what you’re afraid of with me, but I’m afraid of that, too. We’re the same, Jude. We’re both afraid of being abandoned. We both crave trust and commitment. No matter what age I am, that will never change for me. You’re the only one I’ll ever trust.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I can see my words slowly sinking into him. His eyes are softening, but the rest of his body language screams his defensive walls are still up.

I force the rest of my thoughts out before I lose him. “We were both dead set against marriage and love when we went into this farce. But guess what? We’ve been married this whole time. Living a real marriage, loving and caring for each other, whether we knew it or not. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.”

He nods slowly. “You’re right. It means everything. More than you know. But we’ve only known each other a few months.”

“So? It feels like much longer.”