Don’t Mind If “I Do” by Everly Ashton

Thirty-Two

Mazzy

“Are you okay?” I ask once we’re sitting in the back of the SUV.

“I’m fine.” His voice is clipped and he’s sitting as far from me as possible. “I made peace a long time ago with the fact that my brother and I wouldn’t have a relationship. But I didn’t bank on seeing him tonight, though I suppose I should have considered it would be a real possibility.”

“It’s just that you were already upset about having to come in the first place and then your brother—”

“It’s not like these things remind me of happier times, Maz.” He used my nickname and a part of me wants to do a happy dance over that, but now is not the time. “Seeing him just makes it worse.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He huffs out a sigh.

“What?”

“Stop apologizing for the past. What’s done is done. We need to move on.”

I glance at Darius because he can hear us.

“Is that really what you want?” I hold my breath, knowing Nick knows what I’m really asking. Can we have a fresh start?

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “I think it is.”

My heart feels as if it’s floating away on a breeze. I’ve waited so long to hear those words from Nick. To feel that I might actually have his forgiveness.

More than anything, I want to ask him about the kiss we shared on the dance floor, but I don’t want to push my luck. Instead I squeeze his hand back and sink into my thoughts for the rest of the drive home.

Once we arrive, we say a quick good night and retreat into our rooms to get ready for bed. For a long time, I lie there picturing our kiss and basking in the sensuality. When I hear a creak in the hallway, I look toward the door and see the shadow of feet standing there.

I hold my breath for a moment, wondering if Nick will knock on the door and if he does, what that might mean. The seconds turn into a minute before the shadow retreats and the hall light clicks off. I hear his bedroom door close shortly after.

I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t disappointed. But then I remember that nothing worth having comes easy.

* * *

Nick didn’t mentionthe kiss when he got up this morning, so I didn’t bring it up either. We spent a good part of the day at the homeless shelter, where I met Jemma’s friend Fiona, who works there, and her other friend Marlowe, who’s writing an article on the shelter and how local doctors like Nick are lending their talents.

Our interactions have been less strained, so even though the kiss hasn’t come up, it’s a step in the right direction.

I walk downstairs after getting ready for tonight.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you over?” Nick asks for the third time.

I’m meeting Jemma, Fiona, and Marlowe at the pub for drinks, and since I met Fiona and Marlowe earlier today, I’m not as nervous as I was. Yeah, I’m about five years older than them, but it hasn’t felt that way whenever I’ve talked to them, so I’m hoping that will continue. Of course, I doubt any of them have a failed marriage under their belt.

“I’ll take an Uber, it’s fine.” I check my purse one more time to make sure I have everything I need.

“Fine. I’ll pick you up then. I don’t like the idea of you in a car with some creep after you’ve been drinking.”

I’m playing the whole independent woman act, but the truth is, I love that he’s concerned about me.

“All right, deal. I’ll text you when I’m ready to come home.” I pull out my phone and call the Uber, which is only a couple minutes away. Perfect. Then I situate my purse and hold my hands out at my side. “How do I look?”

“Like trouble. But only the best kind.” Nick smiles and I return it.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he says with some innuendo in his voice.

I’m not sure what to think. He hasn’t tried to kiss me since the fundraiser, but he has been more affectionate with me today—at least with his words. But what I really want is for him to wrap his arms around me and show me how he feels with his body. But beggars can’t be choosers, as they say, and I’ll have to settle for this newfound flirtation for now.

Headlights stream through the glass of the front door.

“All right, I’m off.”

“Have a good night.”

I stand there like an idiot for a minute in case Nick plans on giving me a kiss or a hug, but he doesn’t move, so I turn and fumble with the door as I leave.

The ride takes about ten minutes, then I spot the girls near the back of the pub. Music plays through the speakers, but a band is setting up in the front corner. Once I say my hello to all the girls and take a seat, a server comes by and takes our order. We’re all having wine, but Marlowe also insists on ordering a round of shots in honor of my first night joining them. Once the server leaves, all eyes are on me.

“So you have to tell us how you nailed down Nick. I thought for sure he was a forever bachelor,” Fiona says.

I glance at Jemma. Nick told me earlier today that Ollie was going to tell Jemma the truth about our marriage. But she looks as interested in the answer as her friends.

“We used to be good friends growing up and through our early twenties. Then we had a falling out. When we saw each other again after so long, it seemed stupid to let the past dictate our future. It wasn’t important anymore. And so here we are.”

“Oh my God, you ruined him.” Marlowe looks across the table at me, practically swooning.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean after you guys had your falling out, he could probably never stand to get close to another woman until you came back into his life.”

“Oh, she’s totally right,” Fiona says. “Or no woman lived up to you, so there was no point in pursuing something serious with another woman. Don’t you think, Jem?”

Jemma meets my gaze. In the little time I’ve been around her, she seems like a person who would do the right thing, so I don’t think she’ll out me in front of her friends, but I’m praying she doesn’t. For Nick’s sake, I can’t risk the truth getting out.

“I saw the way he looked at you on your wedding day when you weren’t looking,” Jemma say. “I wouldn’t be surprised if what they’re saying is true.”

I give her a heartfelt smile and nod in thanks. Thanks for keeping my secret and thanks for what I think she knows are words I’d hoped to hear. “I don’t know if you guys are right or not, but I’d like to think you are.”

The waiter shows up with our wine and shots.

Once we’ve thanked him and he’s left, Marlowe holds hers up in the center of the table. “I want to give a toast.” We all hold up our shot glasses. “To the new couple: never sweat the petty things and always pet the sweaty things.”

We break out in laughter and clink our shot glasses together, then toss them back. I cough when the alcohol burns going down. I’m not accustomed to doing a shot. Let’s just say they’re not big on them at high society gatherings.

“Oh, girl, we’re gonna have to get you conditioned,” Fiona says.

“Don’t worry, Mazzy. After a few wine nights, you’ll be able to take the shots like a champ,” Jemma adds.

I look at this group of women with a mixture of hope and sadness. The way things stand now, I won’t be a part of their lives once the clock has run out on Nick’s and my marriage.