Only One Touch (Only One 4)

“Nico,” Lizzie warns with a low voice.

“I was on vacation,” he says, coming in. “I told you this as soon as I married you.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens,” I say, and he just stares at me. The both of us were in college at the same time. We were in the same circle, and when he became a lawyer, I was his first client. Of course he joined his father’s firm that was started five generations before. He’s one of the biggest names out there. “I pay you enough to be at my beck and call.”

“And I was available,” he says, going to the empty chair and sitting down in it. The girls smile at him. “Now what was so pressing?”

“I need you to go through Laurene’s contract,” I say, and Laurene’s eyes go big.

“Um, hold on a minute.” She puts up her hand. “My lawyer went through it with a fine-tooth comb.”

“I need you to find a loophole for this marriage,” I tell George. “There has to be something in there.”

“Oh my God,” Laurene says, throwing her hand up and having it slap the arm of the couch. “Seriously, it’s for ninety fucking days, Nico.”

“Yeah, and it’s ninety days too long,” I say, and she shakes her head.

“What is the sudden freaking rush to get divorced?” she asks, and then I look at her and then at Lizzie, who just shrugs, not sure what to say. “You knew this.”

“I did, and you know that I only married you because of a fucking promise I made when we were both eighteen and drunk,” I point out.

“Where is the contract?” George asks. Lizzie grabs her leather binder case and takes it out, handing it to him. He reaches over and grabs it. “I’m going to go over this and then bring it to a couple of people to make sure I don’t miss anything.”

“Is that the same people from your firm who leaked that we were married?” George glares at me.

“Don’t insult the people standing in your corner,” he says, getting up. “I’ll be in touch.” He walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Nico,” Laurene says. “I honestly don’t know what has gotten into you.”

“This marriage has ruined my life,” I say. “Literally and figuratively ruined my fucking life.”

“I don’t understand.” She looks at me, getting up.

“I was dating someone when you came to me,” I finally tell her, and Lizzie gets up and comes over to me. She grabs my hand and squeezes it.

“Okay,” Laurene says, not sure she is understanding what I’m saying. The truth be told, I don’t even know what I want to say. All the words just spin around and around in my head.

“I’m in love with her,” I say, and her mouth opens, then closes, and then opens again. “Like in love with her so much I would trade everything I have to see her for one more minute.”

“Did you tell her?” she asks in a whisper and then sits back on the couch again.

“No.” I run my hands through my hair. “I didn’t know how much to tell her. Then I didn’t know how to tell her.” Laurene puts her hand to her chest. “I was going to tell her when I got back.”

“Are you telling me, Nico, that the woman you love.” She gets up, and I can see she is angry. “Or that you say you love.” Putting her hands on her hips, she continues, “Found out you married me after the fact that you married me?”

“Oh, it’s better than that,” Lizzie says, side-eyeing me with a glare. “She found out when the press broke the story.”

“How can you be so fucking smart?” She shakes her head. “Yet so fucking dumb?”

“I don’t need this right now,” I tell them both.

“No, you don’t,” Lizzie says. “But it’s about time someone said it out loud.”

“I didn’t want any of this.” Throwing my hand up in the air, I say, “None of it. And truth be told, I knew I liked her. Like a lot, but the fact that I love her. It shocked me.”

“You fucked up,” Laurene tells me. “And not just a little bit.”

“I know you don’t think I know I fucked up,” I tell them both. “You think I don’t want to turn back time and just come out and tell her.”

“I don’t even know what to say or what to ask,” Laurene says, sitting down. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“The day before we got married,” I tell them, and I can see Laurene glare. “I know what you are going to say, and trust me, I’ve had this talk with myself over and over again. Night after fucking night. I just couldn’t tell her. Besides, I didn’t want to break your trust.”

“My trust,” Laurene says softly. “You have to know that I would have trusted you to tell her. I assume that you aren’t involved with someone who runs to the press.”