The Marriage Dare

As soon as I have the thought, I know that it’s bullshit. It’s more than that just that at play. I can’t explain the crazy chemistry between Daniel and me. Embarrassing incident in front of reporters aside, I can’t get breakfast and what we did out of my head. I want more of that. Of him. And I feel stupid that I don’t even care about being exposed. That it’s a price I have to pay and if he can make me feel that way again, I’ll gladly pay it over and over.

And as we spoke to the lawyer, there’s no penalty for either of us to call it quits down the road. I intentionally ignore the little twist in my gut at that thought. That’s it then. I am marrying Daniel Argent, and I can’t even pretend that I don’t want to do it. There’s so much history between us, so much baggage. But there’s something here that we need to explore together. Both of us.

I’m still in his t-shirt, and it smells like him. Like the desert sun and cedar soap. After the lawyer left, he handed me a tablet and told me to go crazy. Not in those words, but that was the implication. The tablet already has all of his accounts loaded into it for purchasing things, and I need a whole new wardrobe. But honestly, I don’t know what kind of clothes I need.

Taking the tablet, I walk through the living room into the office that Daniel is currently occupying. He’s typing away on a laptop, looking as calm as ever. It feels strange to enter this space. It reminds me a bit of what my father’s office used to look like, and the reversal is strange. But Daniel is not my father. I know that. Daniel would never do some of the things that my father has done. He would never intentionally cause lasting harm. He would never not care that his actions had cost others their lives.

He looks up at me. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I just don’t know what I need.” He gives me a questioning look, and I explain. “What kind of clothes do I need to be your wife? Am I going to need a lot of gowns for openings? Suits? Is there a way you’d like me to look?”

Daniel stares at me for a moment before standing and coming around the desk to me. “Is that how you see me? As someone who wants to tell you what to wear and control your appearance?”

I shake my head. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t know where I stand with you. I don’t know why you want me. I keep trying to make sense of it, and I can’t. One minute you’re making me beg for you, and the next, you’re showering me with gifts, and the next showing me off half naked to reporters. It’s not exactly the clearest line of logic.”

He sighs. “You’re right.”

I blink. “I’m sorry? You’re admitting that I am right about something?”

“I’m not perfect,” he laughs. “And I’m more than willing to admit that what this is, is complicated between us. So let me be clear now.” He takes the tablet out of my hand and sets it on the desk before pulling me close. It’s strange how comforting that motion feels after such a short time. “I already told you this part of it. When we were younger, I wanted you. Even though I hated the way you treated me, and what your family did to mine, I never stopped wanting you. You are the star of all my fantasies, and I hated myself for it. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just let you go. You were never going to want me. Never going to be good for me. But it didn’t matter.”

A peculiar feeling gathers in my chest. I had known that Daniel had a crush on me, but it didn’t matter that much to me. When I was young and naïve, a lot of boys had crushes on me. It was normal to me. But to hear that his was deeper, that he had such a desire that went beyond what he should have felt given my cruelty, makes me ache with sadness. I wish that I had known. Perhaps if I had, and we had been together before now, maybe both of our lives would have been different. Maybe they would have been better, and maybe they would have been worse, but we’ll never know.

“When I saw you at that poker table,” he says, “all of that came rushing back to me. I thought I had let that part go, that I had taken all that desire and anger and turned it into something else. It’s how I made this life. But it hadn’t let me go.