Say It's Not Fake

Then it was done, and our group was heading over to Mario’s Italian Restaurant for a late lunch/early dinner. I had made a reservation for three-thirty, and even though we were a little early, they sat us quickly.

“To the bride and groom!” Adam announced, lifting his champagne flute into the air. Everyone did the same, toasting us.

“I thought the clerk was going to blow a gasket when Katie dumped all those petals on the floor.” Skylar chuckled.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Mom defended.

“It was a lovely thought, Gail. I loved the flowers,” Whitney said, smiling at my mom. Mom smiled back.

“Pee-pee Dada!” Katie shouted over everyone.

“I didn’t realize she was potty training already,” Meg said.

“We just started. It’s touch and go at the moment. But she is pretty good about letting you know when she has to use the toilet. She doesn’t always make it, though.” I looked around for the bathrooms. “I guess it’s okay to take her into the men’s restroom. I hope they have stalls.”

I started to unbuckle her from the highchair when Whitney put her hand on my arm. “I can take her. If that’s okay.” She looked at my mother too, which I appreciated. I liked how she was deferring to my mom not to seem like she was taking over now that she was technically Katie’s stepmother.

“Why don’t I come with you so I can show you what to do. After all, you’ll be taking over a lot of this for a while,” Mom suggested, her mouth only slightly pinched. But she offered Whitney a conciliatory smile.

The two left for the bathroom, and as soon as they were gone, June, Whitney’s mother, turned to me. “Whitney and I dropped her things off at your house before we came today. She said you told her that was alright.”

We had agreed that Whitney would begin living at my place starting tonight. This marriage had to have all the hallmarks of a true union—including living together. I had painted the guest room a nice yellow that reminded me of the color of Whitney’s room at her parents’ house. I had purchased a new bedroom suite as well. I wanted her to be comfortable.

“Of course, it is. My house is her house.” I took a long drink of champagne. I had always gotten on well with Meg and Whitney’s parents, but I worried about what June thought of the situation. Her opinion mattered to me, and if she was anything like my parents, I didn’t think she was fully on board with it. “I hope you know that this means the world to me that Whitney is helping me like this. And thank you for your support June.”

June covered my hand with hers. “I’ve known you for most of your life, Kyle. You were a good boy who has grown into a fine man. I know you love your daughter. I understand that you need to do whatever you have to do to take care of her.” She took a deep breath, her piercing eyes meeting mine. “But be careful with yourself and with Whitney. I know you think this is all very cut and dry, but life is often messy. And feelings make otherwise uncomplicated things very, very complicated.”

I opened my mouth to respond but promptly closed it. I didn’t know how to respond. I could try to convince her that we had it under control, but the thing about our parents was they formulated their own opinions, and it didn’t matter what we had to say about it.

Mom and Whitney came back with Katie a few minutes later. Katie held onto both of their hands and was prattling on about God knows what. Whitney lifted Katie back up into her highchair, fumbling with the straps.

“Here, like this,” I showed her, snapping the straps into place.

Whitney gave me a sheepish smile. “I guess I’ll get the hang of this stuff.”

I gave her arm a squeeze. “You’ll do great. I know it.”

Everyone ate their food. There was laughter and conversation. Whitney and I shared our meals just as we had done at the Greek restaurant.

When I looked down at her—this woman who was now technically my wife—I knew, deep in my bones, that I had done the right thing.

This would all work out.

It had to.

I didn’t want to think about what would happen if it didn’t.

Chapter 10

Whitney

I woke up disoriented. I sat up slowly, my unfocused eyes slowly adjusting to the bright light streaming through the thin, gauzy curtains.

Where the hell am I?

Then it all came back to me.

The wedding.

The dinner afterward.

Coming home with Kyle and the awkward goodnight outside my new bedroom door.

Everything felt surreal. Like I had dreamt it.

“Are you sure about this?” my mother had asked as she pinned up my hair. While Meg and Adam had been nothing but supportive, my mother had been more than hesitant about the idea of marrying Kyle to help him gain full custody of his daughter.