The Husband Game

The world doesn’t work like that. There are no happily ever afters. That’s the thought that keeps racing through my brain as I dodge through the angry crowd toward the exit. The second I reach the hallway outside, I run.

16

At first I just start driving aimlessly. But after a while, I realize the roads look familiar. And then I realize I’ve had a destination in the back of my head this whole time. One I pull up to now, more confused and directionless than ever.

The little lake out back of Charlie’s parents’ cabin.

I slam my car door and trudge across the snow—a little less thick and pristine fluffy white than the last time we came here. It’s started to melt, and no new snow has fallen to replenish it. So now it’s all a little gray and ugly, melting in clumps and patches. Icy in spots.

Tarnished. Just like me.

I hike until I reach the lakeside. There’s no one else out here. Nobody skating or teaching their kids to skate on the lake. Even the twinkling fairy lights around the lake are dark. It’s nearing sunset, even though it’s only the late afternoon.

Winter seems like the perfect time for gloomy thoughts like mine. I plunk myself down on a bench at the lake shore and stare across the glistening ice.

I’m not sure how long I’ve sat there. But I’ve lost feeling in my toes and fingertips when I hear another set of feet crunching up the path.

Charlie takes the seat beside me without a word. When I glance over at him, I notice he has a bruise forming on one cheek. My lips part, my heart clenching with concern.

“What happened?” I raise on hand, let it hover a few inches from his skin. Then, with a huge amount of willpower, I resist the urge to touch him, and let my hand fall back to my lap.

“One of the guys said something shitty. I let him know it was shit.” He glances over at me now. “Guess I don’t have to regret never punching anybody on your behalf anymore.”

I let out a weak laugh, more a huff of air than anything. “Charlie… I’m so sorry. I should never have dragged you into this stupid mess. It’s all my fault.”

He shakes his head.

But I’m on a roll now. “It is. I ruined everything. Your teammates are angry with you; our friends and your family are going to find out and freak out.” A tear rolls down my cheek, followed by another and another. “I should never have started us down this road; it was so stupid to think love could be more important than everything else in our lives—”

“Don’t, Lila. Don’t talk like that.” He catches my hands and squeezes them hard. “This is not your fault. Fiona took advantage of you, don’t you see that?”

I grimace, gritting my teeth at the mention of her name. Oh, I know a few words for that bitch. But now isn’t the time. I swallow thickly. “She might have suggested it, but I went along with it. I didn’t think about what it might mean for you, or your reputation, or your family’s opinion of you.”

Charlie cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “My family knows me better than to listen to some bullshit like that podcast. Besides, I already called my parents and talked to them. They know everything now. And they’re no less supportive of us than they always have been.”

I tense, my shoulders tightening. “Really?”

“Of course. Lila, they just want me to be happy.” He raises my hands between us, still clasped in his. “And don’t you get it? You make me happy. If I met you in a weird unconventional way, well then… who cares?” He grins. “We met, that’s the important part. We made it through that mess. We’ll face whatever happens next side-by-side. And at least you know now that Fiona is a lying snake who was only ever going to fuck with your head.”

“I can’t believe I trusted her,” I murmur softly.

“That’s not your fault. Trusting people who stab you in the back isn’t something to be ashamed of. It just means that you’re an open, loving person who gives others the benefit of the doubt. It’s her fault she fucked you over, no one else’s.”

I manage a wavering smile, and I lean in to kiss him, light and quick. Before another thought pops into my head and makes me draw back again, frowning once more. “What the hell am I going to do for work now? Without her magazine…”

Charlie waves a hand. “Don’t worry about that. We’re married now. I’ll support you the same as you support me.”

I frown at him. “But, you’ve got school to worry about, and hockey, and—”

“And you,” he adds firmly. “That’s what our vows meant, you know. In sickness and in health. For richer, for poorer.”