The Loyal Groom (Groom 1)

I notice Rosy hasn’t sent a text since this morning telling me to have a good day. I left her in bed sated and sleeping but she must have woken up. After that my day got away from me and I didn’t have a chance to call. I need to take a day off, but first I’ve got to figure out how the hell that’s possible. With my assistants packing my schedule with every moment of the day taken up by meetings, it’s impossible.

I’m sulking as I get into the back of the town car that’s waiting outside of the lab. My phone rings, and I answer it without seeing who it is.

“You’re fucking this up.”

“What the hell, Lindsey?”

“You heard me.”

“Okayyyy.” I pause as I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. “Are you going to tell me what I’m fucking up? As far as I know the twins are getting chummy with a pair of royals in Greece and you are living in the lap of luxury in your penthouse overlooking the park. Rosy is at home, probably taking a bubble bath—”

“It’s her birthday, dumbass.”

All the air in my lungs leaves my chest, and my heart stops. Panic and heat climb up my neck as I pull the phone away from my ear to see the date.

“Fuck,” I whisper because my mouth is as dry as the desert. “Oh fuck, Lindsey.”

“Yeah,” she says in confirmation, and I feel like my soul is ripping in half. “I went over there and she was in tears.”

“Oh god, no.” This is not happening. How could I forget? “I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t fucking apologize to me.” Her Boston accent is thickest when she’s pissed. “You better make this right, or so help me god.”

“I know, I will. Fuck.” I squeeze my eyes shut and wish I could kick my own ass.

“Baby boy, we knew you were always the treasure. We knew you’d be the one to make it and make good on the family. But right now, you’re fucking up a real good thing. The best thing you got.”

“I know.” Tears burn my eyes because she’s right and we both know it. “How do I fix this?”

Lindsey sighs, and there’s a long pause. “Look, she doesn’t know you forgot. Not for sure anyway. I went over there to drop off the cake I made, and she said you weren’t home, then she started crying.”

“Goddamn it.” I feel so low.

“I told her you were late because you had something big planned. So, baby boy, plan something pretty fucking big.”

“You got it.” My mind begins to race with what I can do to make up for this.

“You don’t have a lot of time, so I’m not going to stay on the phone and give you shit about it. But call me tomorrow because I’ve got more to say.”

“Okay.”

“I fucking mean it.” Her voice is stern and final.

“I will, I promise.”

“All right, talk tomorrow.”

She hangs up, and I stare down at the black screen wondering how the hell I’m supposed to fix this with almost no time left. My mind races at the possibilities, and then an idea hits me.

“Can you take the next exit?” I call to the driver and he nods.

An hour later I’ve got a plan and I’m on my way back home. As soon as I pull up, I see the lights are off, and I feel like dog shit. I can’t believe I forgot her birthday, but I plan on making it up, starting now.

When I get inside, I go into the kitchen and see the beautiful cake Lindsey made that probably took her all day to create. It’s a punch in the gut, but I try not to let it slow me down as I put the cake back in the box and set it by the front door.

I go upstairs to the bedroom for a few moments before I go in search of my wife. When I find her in the media room, the lights are off, and she’s asleep on the couch. Walking over, I sit beside her and just watch her for a moment. Her eyes are closed, and her lashes are fanned out on her cheeks like an angel. She still is and always will be the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Hey,” I say as I brush my thumb over her cheek. “Wake up, baby.”

She blinks a few times before she focuses on me and then her eyes widen. “Oh, you’re home. What time is it?”

“Seven.” Her eyes fall, and I touch her chin. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I had a few things to take care of.”

“Work okay?”

“Not for work.” I stand up and take her hand in mine. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Out.”

She looks down at her leggings and sweatshirt. “I’m not dressed.”