Don’t Mind If “I Do” by Everly Ashton

Nineteen

Mazzy

Saturday came and went without any drama. I stayed in bed as late as I could, and when I got up, Nick had left a note that he’d gone to the gym. The photographer sent the proofs from the wedding, so I chose one to send to the paper along with the announcement I’d written.

Nick and I avoided one another for the rest of the day, and that night, we ate pizza while a baseball game played on TV, both of us barely saying a word. I went to bed to read my book. I’d avoided both Nick and the outside world, because the news Nick and I are married will be announced to the world. As soon as the first person within my circle spots the announcement, it will be spread like peanut butter on toast—easily and with anticipation.

Still, I somehow managed to get some sleep. When I wake, I hear Nick putter around downstairs. He used some of his vacation days to take the weekend off. With a sigh, I toss back the covers and get out of bed. After I’ve gone to the bathroom and pulled my hair into a messy bun, I grab my phone from the nightstand and head downstairs. I can’t avoid the inevitable forever. The inevitable, at the moment, being my new husband.

“Morning,” I say when I step into the kitchen.

He’s sitting at the large island, sipping coffee, and reading the newspaper. The very one that will have our announcement in it. He glances up, the mug stalling halfway to his mouth while he takes me in from head to toe. “Morning.”

He returns his attention to the newspaper and brings the mug to his mouth. I walk over to the coffee maker, setting my phone on the counter, and open the cupboard I found the mugs in yesterday. I’m pouring the coffee in a mug when Nick exhales loudly.

“What?” I turn to face him, sipping the steaming liquid in my cup.

He turns the paper around and holds it up. There’s a large color photo of the two of us at our wedding. I step forward, set my mug on the island, and grab it out of his hands.

If you didn’t know better, you might actually look at this picture and think we were in love. We’re looking at each other, and the smile on my face makes it look as if I’m completely infatuated with this man. Nick’s looking at me as though he’s never seen a more beautiful bride. I scan the remarks under the picture to make sure they printed the announcement how I phrased it, and I’m pleased to see that they did.

“I’d say we sold our marriage in that picture, huh?” I toss the paper back his way.

“Seems so.” He studies the picture for a few seconds before setting it aside. “Are you hungry? There’s a good breakfast place around the corner I go to sometimes.”

I tilt my head. “Are you going to give me directions and send me on my way or was that an offer to take me there?”

A deep chuckle leaves him. “I figure we’re married now. We might as well get used to each other’s company. It’ll make it easier to sell this relationship to other people.”

“True.” I nod slowly.

It’s not that I don’t welcome the opportunity to move forward with Nick—quite the opposite—but I’m suspicious of the sudden change in his attitude toward me. He’s been nothing but kind and supportive with my Meniere’s or the panic attack, but that’s just his training kicking in. The man helps people for a living. Taking me to breakfast is something else entirely.

“Awesome. Let’s get ready and leave in say… forty-five minutes? Is that enough time for you?” His eyes track me from head to toe again as though he suspects that’s not possible.

“Should be plenty. What should I wear?”

Nick’s prevented from answering me by the sound of my phone ringing on the counter. I look down and see my mother’s name on the screen. She knows. I can’t avoid her forever, but I can avoid her until this afternoon at least. I hit the button to send her to voicemail, and immediately, the phone rings again. This time, it’s Ava’s name on the screen.

“Obviously, word still travels fast in the city,” Nick says in a wry voice and sips his coffee.

I give him a wane smile and pick up my phone. Ava will be relentless and just keep calling.

“Hello,” I answer.

“You bitch! I’m gonna kill you. You got married?”

“Good morning, Ava.”

“To Nick Ryan of all people?”

I glance across the island at him. He’s sipping his coffee and back to reading the paper. “Yes, Nick and I are married.”

“No shit. I saw the announcement in the paper, which you obviously must have been behind. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were seeing Nick. What the hell? And I wasn’t at your wedding.” She sounds as though she’s pouting.

I do feel terrible for not including her, but somehow, that would have felt worse. I’d rather her miss the event altogether than include her in a lie.

“I’m sorry. It’s all been kind of a whirlwind.” Not untrue. “We ran into each other unexpectedly and sparks flew. We didn’t want to waste any time.”

Talking about this in front of Nick feels weird. He’s not looking at me though, and probably not listening either.

“Well obviously, if you let him put a ring on it. After that douchebag Jeffers, I thought you’d never get married again.”

Nick’s mouth forms a thin line. Strike that, maybe he is listening.

“Well, I hadn’t planned to.”

“He must be giving you some good dick if you married him. So tell me, what’s it like? I know you’ve wanted to bang him again for forever.”

Nick chokes on his coffee. If I’d had any in my mouth, I probably would have too.

My cheeks burn. “I’m not going to talk to you about that.”

“Okay sure, save it for when we get together and you explain to me—your best friend—exactly how all of this happened and why I knew none of it.”

I sigh. I knew I couldn’t get away with just a phone call with Ava, but I can’t tell her the truth. People’s jobs are on the line. “Let’s get together next week and I can fill you in.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” And she will.

“Text me some days that work for you and we’ll figure it out.”

“Damn right we will. Now go fuck that gorgeous husband of yours and report back next week.” She giggles and hangs up.

I’m actually surprised I got off that easy. She must be saving her energy to give it to me in person. With a sigh, I set my phone back down on the counter.

Nick stands and sets the newspaper beside his empty mug. “To answer your earlier question… you don’t need to dress up for this place. There’ll be no one from the press taking your picture. But you should probably put on a bra.” His gaze flicks to my chest.

I glance down too and see that my nipples are poking through the thin cotton of the cami I wore to bed last night. I’m not used to having to cover up for anyone. My cheeks heat even more than they did when I was talking to Ava—which I would have thought was impossible—and I look back at Nick.

Is that desire in his gaze? I can’t be sure because as fast as I spot it, he blinks and it’s gone. And so is he, leaving the kitchen.