Don’t Mind If “I Do” by Everly Ashton

Twenty-Two

Mazzy

I arrive home early in the evening to find Nick at the grill in the backyard. I only got a quick glimpse of the backyard the day of our wedding because although it was our intended spot for the ceremony, it had been raining.

The yard is well kept and has a large stone patio with two separate seating sections—one with a table to eat at and another with a couch and a set of chaise loungers. A covered hot tub sits near the garden doors that lead out to the patio.

Nick is dressed in a pair of grey casual shorts. They’re worlds away from the grey dress shorts he wore at the private school we attended. His white T-shirt reveals the way the muscles in his back and shoulders bunch up when he uses the spatula on the grill.

“Hey.” I step outside. The warm evening sun beats down on me, but it’s not sweltering.

He turns around, and although there’s not a smile on his face, there’s no disgust either. Progress. “Hey. I don’t know if you’re hungry or not, but I made extras just in case.”

I step over to the grill with a warm feeling in my chest. “Thank you. That was thoughtful of you.” He’s grilling chicken as well as a variety of colorful vegetables.

Nick shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

But it is to me. To me, it’s an olive branch. We could spend this next six months simply coexisting in this house and living separate lives except for when we’re out in public. But I’d prefer it if we could be civil. We don’t have to be best friends again or in love with one another, but I don’t want to pretend we’re strangers either.

“Can I do anything to help?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Have you been cooking for yourself in the last decade?”

He has a point. Growing up, we had a chef—as I also did when I was married. Nowadays, I have my meals delivered by my favorite restaurants. But Nick’s acting as if he’s always fended for himself.

“Have you?” I raise an eyebrow in turn.

He chuckles, much to my surprise. “Touché. But to answer your question—yes. I’m no gourmet chef like my buddy Keane, but I get by.”

“I believe it. Looks good.”

“Thanks.” He looks away from the grill and gives me the once-over. “How did you spend your day?”

I sigh and twist my neck from side to side. “Explaining to everyone why it is I rushed off and married a man I haven’t seen in nearly a decade. You?”

“Sleeping and ignoring phone calls from everyone so I don’t have to explain.” His eyes are full of mirth.

“Sounds about right.” There’s an awkward silence for a moment, and I feel the need to fill it. “How long until dinner is ready? I need to change.”

He moves his head back and forth as though he’s mulling it over. “Five minutes maybe.”

“Perfect. Be right back.”

I head to the guest room and change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. When I come back down, Nick has already set the outdoor table and plated our meals.

I pull out the chair across from him and look at my plate. “This looks amazing, thank you.”

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with my compliment. “It’s just chicken and veggies. I try to eat lean when I can. Gotta keep up this physique.” He pats his stomach as though he’s carrying around a Santa’s belly.

I can’t keep my gaze from trailing over his hard stomach, broad shoulders, and biceps that stretch the fabric of his T-shirt. “I can imagine.” To prevent me from embarrassing myself by ogling him more, I cut a piece of my chicken before spearing it with my fork.

“It offsets all the beer I drink.” He smiles at me and I look away. “How did your parents take the news?”

After I’ve finished swallowing, I answer. “My dad was okay with it.” My lie by omission makes a twinge of guilt race through me. “My mother not so much.”

He lets out a dark chuckle. “Wished you were nabbing the better Ryan brother, I assume?”

I ignore what he’s alluding to. Tonight has gotten off to a good start and I don’t want to derail it by talking about the past. “She wasn’t appreciative of being surprised and not having answers when her friends questioned her. My dad talked her down, then I talked her out of throwing a huge party to celebrate our nuptials.”

“You were successful, right?” he says, as though a big party would be the worst thing in the world.

“I was. Though just barely.”

“Thank God. The last thing I want to do is celebrate our pretend marriage with a bunch of Boston’s upper crust. It’s bad enough I’ll have to go to some of their events with you. I certainly don’t want to attend one where I’m the center of attention.”

I let out a dark chuckle. “You’re naïve if you think all eyes won’t be on you anyway.”

A crease forms between his brows. “What do you mean?” He takes a pull of his beer before setting it back on the table.

“You haven’t run in those circles in a long time, but everyone knows you, Nick. You returning is bound to cause a stir. Especially with the news that we’re married.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But it would still be worse if the party were for us.”

“Agreed.” I spear a piece of red pepper with my fork and bring it to my mouth.

“Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the endless parties and charitable events full of meaningless conversation with people who are just there for themselves and what it will do for their image?” His laugh tells me he can’t not see me living for the life my family name has afforded me.

“You might be surprised to know that I don’t. At least not anymore. At first it was fun to dress up and use my name to get important people to these functions to donate, but now…” I shrug.

“Now it’s no longer fulfilling?” His gaze locks with mine as though he’s sussing whether I’m sincere or not.

“No, it’s not.” I admit the truth out loud for the first time ever, and it feels momentous. Girls who were born into super rich families aren’t supposed to complain about it, and I’ve carried a lot of guilt for a lot of years over how I feel about my role in society.

Nick blinks a few times. He seems genuinely surprised. “So what do you want to do with your life?”

I shake my head with a rueful smile, looking at my plate to cut my chicken. “I should have been asking myself that question after I finished college. Not at thirty-four.”

He shrugs. “It’s never too late to make a change.”

I nod and keep eating. The truth is, I don’t know what I want for the rest of my life. Not beyond the fact that I want to be a mother someday.

“Maybe you should try different things. I mean, the fact is, after the six months are up, you’re going to be super rich. Might as well spend your time doing something you love since you don’t have to do it for the money.”

“Do you love medicine?”

He nods. I’m not surprised. From the time he was in high school, Nick wanted to be a doctor.

“Medicine seemed like a good way to practice altruism,” he says. “Everything I do at work, every decision I make, is for the benefit of someone else. Unlike the example my family set. I like helping people regardless of their station in life.”

“I want that.” I point across the table at him.

Nick tilts his head. “What?”

“That look in your eyes when you talk about medicine. They light up. I can see your passion for it.”

“Well then, get out there and find your passion.”

Maybe he has a point. I could use this time away from the city to really discover what I love. Who I could be if I didn’t worry about my image and how it affects the Pembrooke name.

“Thanks for the pep talk.” I stand from the table. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want another beer?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good.”

I head into the house, and I swear I feel his gaze on me the entire time, though I must be imagining it. I’m filling my glass with water from the fridge door when the doorbell rings. I wait a beat and don’t hear Nick coming in the house, so I head through the living room to answer the door.

But nothing could have prepared me for who stands on the doorstep. I suspect Nick will be even more surprised than me.