Accidentally Married

by Roberts, Emma

  “You haven’t been to any of the dinners your mother and I have arranged. It’s like you’ve dropped off the map, Archer G. Roman! Your mother is worried you’re going to skip out on our family trip, but I’ve assured her that will not be the case. You need to consider your mother’s feelings,” he ranted. I rolled my eyes skyward as I prepared myself for the prolonged berating I would receive. It was always ironic to me, how my father insisted I care more about my mother’s feelings, when the old wretch loved my ex-girlfriend more than her own son. I remained silent, however, knowing that to say as much would only light an all-consuming fire I wasn’t in the mood to deal with. “I know you keep busy with that little job of yours, though I’ll never understand why. You’re wasting so much potential, son. Even Jasmine could see that. Maybe if you had followed our advice, things would have worked out with her. A woman like that is hard to find; she’s a real gem,” he continued raving, and I leaned back in my computer chair to stare at the ceiling.

  “You know, Dad, considering the fact that you’ve been incessantly trying to force Jasmine and I back together, I kinda already had the idea you think she’s freakin’ fantastic,” I said blithely, unable to stop myself entirely. I refrained from mentioning the obvious lust he felt for her and how downright creepy that whole mess was. He surprised me by laughing, but it was something of a dark laugh. I could already tell he was planning how to deconstruct my confidence brick by brick. Maybe he would have been better served in the architect industry.

  “Well, safe to say you’ve officially blown it, Archer. You flat out shit the bed. Jasmine has moved on, rightfully so, although I must say it will be disappointing not to call her my daughter-in-law,” he said casually, obviously expecting me to flip out. Hell, I wanted the psycho to move on. I may have had feelings for her before, but the sooner she fixated on some other poor soul, the sooner I could resume life as usual.

  “So, I suppose she won’t be joining us for the Maui trip, then?” I pressed, keeping my voice even. He cackled, sounding like one of those corny witches you see in the movies. Already knowing I wouldn’t like the direction the conversation was going, I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my temples. It was foolish of me to think things would be so simple. It wasn’t like my parents had any consideration for my feelings. I was at least vaguely confident they wouldn’t invite her new beau to join us on the trip.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course she’s coming on the trip. We have cause for celebration. After all, it’s not like a young lady gets engaged every day,” he said slyly, and though my gut reaction was to argue the logistics of his comment – I was positive a number of women got engaged every single day – his actual words sank in a bit belatedly. My eyes popped open, and I lurched upright in my office chair. I cursed the loud and telling squeak but tried to keep my breathing even.

  Jasmine was…engaged? She was still sending me lewd pictures of herself not even a week ago, yet now she was engaged to be married!? I couldn’t grasp how she could have possibly moved on so quickly, but my stomach turned when I realized how hypocritical that thought was. I hadn’t gotten married on purpose, though! I’d been drunk! How long had Jasmine been seeing this mystery guy? Was it one of those cliché “love at first sight” moments, and that was why she’d stopped messaging me? Or was she just stringing another poor sucker along until she got bored?

  I told myself it was none of my business and certainly not my concern, but my heart was hammering in spite of myself. I didn’t know why; I sure couldn’t give two shits about Jasmine. I had a new, very hot wife! Jasmine, well, she was a conundrum on other levels. Why in the hell did she always have to be involved in our family? I just couldn’t get it, and I doubted that I would ever really understand it.

  “Jasmine’s engaged, huh? That’s nice. I’m happy for her. I hope her fiancé treats her well,” I managed to croak out, realizing with disdain that I was being painfully transparent. My father rumbled a laugh, an insidious sort of sound that made it obvious that he wasn’t finished with his little mind games.

  “Well, you’ll be able to make that judgement for yourself, kiddo. We invited him to join us as well, considering he’ll more or less be part of the family soon,” he drawled. My heart stopped – absolutely ceased beating for what felt like an eternity.

  “Part of the family?” I repeated incredulously, clenching my fist at my side. The audacity of that statement was enough to make me want to scream, to tell the old prick to shove it up his ass and have a good time with his new family. It was pointless, though. He’d only tell me not to let the door hit me on the way out. Lesser men might have been broken by such a comment, but I had been entertaining such drivel from my father for years. If I were going to be broken by my family’s disdain for me, it would have happened long ago.

  “Right. Of course, I mean. Jasmine is like a daughter to you,” I hissed, not bothering to hide my slimy tone. I was rewarded with a sharp inhale and internally praised myself for breaking that facade just slightly.

  “Of course she is. You say it like it’s something…foul,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. I only smiled, tapping my fingers on my computer desk.

  “Most men don’t enjoy pictures of their daughters in lingerie. I know she sends you the same crap she’s been sending me. I know about your little fantasy of having her sit on Daddy’s lap,” I sneered, pushing my chair back as I violently rose upright. I wasn’t one to show weakness, but at least he couldn’t see my anxious pacing as I processed this information. He didn’t seem to have a reply for my observation, and I could picture the sweat gathering on his brow. Maybe he’d thought he had everyone fooled into thinking he was more than just a dirty old man, but he couldn’t fool me.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Jasmine is spoken for. She wouldn’t be sending you…things of that nature,” he said icily. I laughed, a full on belly laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. I was arguing with my father over the fact that he wanted to get his prick wet with my ex-girlfriend. There were some things you didn’t keep in the family, and I wanted to scream as such into his ear, but I glanced back at my computer to check the time.

  “Whatever, Dad. You don’t have to worry about me telling Mom. I have better things to do,” I said dismissively, moving to end the call.

  “Your mother loves it,” he replied, his voice dripping with slime. “You think all they’ve been doing is having lunch together? Don’t make me laugh. She enjoys every single moment. What Jasmine can do with her tongue, after all—” he continued, his voice growing more and more venomous. I felt queasy at the implication and hung up the phone before he could continue. It was possible he was just screwing with me. Somehow, I had my doubts. I knew my family was screwed up, but I had taken for granted just how sick the whole thing was. Growling, I resisted the desire to fling my cell phone across the room. Instead, I moved to pick up where I’d left off before the revolting conversation, only to see that more time had passed than I thought. If I dawdled for much longer, I was going to be late for work. That wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t squeezed in an extra consult today. Some sort of breast enhancement surgery, I’d been told. It was what put money in the bank, after all.

  Thinking of the wedding band shoved in the back of my drawer, I hesitated for a moment before rising and approaching my nightstand. I rummaged through the socks and underwear haphazardly squeezed in, wrapping my fingers around a small box. I didn’t have the original ring box, of course, but I’d found something small enough to do the job well enough. Taking the box out of the drawer, I inhaled a calming breath and nudged the lid off. The wedding band shone with all the elegance that I had come to expect.

  Rodriguez. All I had was a last name, one of the most common surnames in the area. I could continue looking for information when I got home from work. I couldn’t just let this go. I couldn’t pretend it had never happened. I had to call this woman; I had to talk to her. Maybe she would give me the chance to do things right instead of just
rolling around in the hay. It was stupid and irrational, but there was a reason I wasn’t terribly fond of one night stands – my feelings became engaged way too easily. The fact that this woman was my wife, regardless of the circumstances, made my heart feel lighter. As if I could conquer anything, even after the frustrating conversation with my father.

  I didn’t overthink things as I slipped the ring back on my finger; it felt as if belonged there. Perhaps it would keep the nurses from being so flirtatious, in any case. I knew it wasn’t a real marriage. There was no love wrapped up in the situation, topped with a tidy bow. She had never even learned my name. I didn’t know hers. This wasn’t some love story where everything ended with some happily ever after. Still…the ring gave me strength. Irrational as it was, laughable as it was, I was married, and that meant something to me. For the love of God, I’d gotten hitched sooner than Landon.

  The hours spent at work were no less agonizing than every other waking thought. I couldn’t get the woman out of my head, couldn’t think of anything besides that photo of her with her students. Her radiance and the genuine joy she obviously felt. I wanted to be the cause of such joy. I wanted to be the one to make her smile. I wasn’t under the impression that she would be head over heels for me, but maybe we could at least start something. Make memories to make up for the ones I couldn’t remember. It occurred to me that she might think I was insane for seeking her out, but I couldn’t ignore the pulling at my heartstrings. I had to call her at the very least. Even if it was to hear her rejection of my…advances, if they could be called as much; I just wanted to hear that melodic sound.

  The ring did nothing to keep the nurses from gawking at me, and I would have been deaf if I hadn’t heard the crude whispers. At the very least, they had stopped approaching me, and for once, my privacy hadn’t been interrupted in the hopes of a quickie on my desk. I spun the ring on my finger, watching the clock with a tired sigh. I just had to squeeze in that last consult, didn’t I? To make matters worse, the one sliver of her identity taunted me from the chart. Tiffany Rodriguez, in for breast implants and other such enhancements. The woman I’d met was confident and had a body that couldn’t be improved by God himself. She was perfect. If anything, the name on the chart only served to frustrate me even more. It was like the universe was taunting me with reminders, but I tried to calm myself with the knowledge that I could continue researching once I got home. I felt creepy and stalkerish, but I didn’t want to think too much about the lack of logic in the situation.

  A knock at my door caught my attention, and I cleared my throat before inviting whomever it was in. As expected, it was a nurse, although she didn’t seem to be interested in trying to fool around. I did notice how she glared at the shining ring on my finger, but I could deal with the nurses’ disdain for a measure of peace.

  “Your patient is here early. Should be an easy job. No health issues, no visible deformities that could cause complications,” she reported, smiling the fakest smile I’d seen in my life. I nodded, keeping my face neutral until she left the way she had come. Allowing myself a sigh of relief, I praised whatever powers that be. In all likelihood, I would be able to leave the office early, and I could finally put my mind to rest. I was driving myself insane, and frustratingly enough, it was a pleasant sort of madness. My heart fluttered at the mere thought of those hazel eyes and those beautiful bouncing breasts. Sure, I wanted more than just sex, but I’d be a fool not to think about that body. It was in my dreams every night. In spite of how drunk I’d been, I had memorized the details of her body down to the tiny scar on her hip.

  I hurried out of my office, eager to get the consult over with. From all indications from the exam notes, the woman had no real need for surgery. Much like the ordained Elvis impersonator, however, I didn’t get paid by suggesting that people be happy with their bodies. It was one of the things I disliked about my job, but money was money. Approaching the room the patient was waiting in, I allowed my mind to drift.

  What was I going to say when I spoke to the woman I had married? This dream woman, an angel on Earth? What words would be eloquent enough to express how I felt? Pushing through the door of the exam room, I studied the chart a final time to make sure I’d not missed anything. I heard a sharp gasp, but that wasn’t exactly unusual. People tended to expect ugly old men to do this kind of work, so seeing a hot guy in the field tended to be a surprise. Looking up, I began to address her before I even processed her appearance.

  “Miss Rodriguez, is it—” I began, the name tasting sweet on my tongue. I was so caught up in my fantasy that I could see the woman of my dreams in my mind, staring at me with those wide doe eyes.

  Wait.

  I stared at the woman sitting on the exam table, my eyes widening in recognition. It wasn’t a fantasy – she was there, staring at me like she’d seen some kind of ghost. I hadn’t had time to prepare what I’d say, and I struggled to come up with something to express how happy I was to see her and how sorry I was for the situation. I couldn’t force myself to make words, however, and my mouth flapped for a moment before I snapped it shut to gather myself. Needing to say something, I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

  “Miss Rodriguez, how can I help you?”

  Dammit. I knew it sounded lame, but I had been lucky to get anything out of my mouth. What I really wanted to do was cheer and tell her how happy I was to see her. Instead, I was lame. I wanted to do nothing more than hide my head for a bit and maybe start over.

  7

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Tiffany

  I was sure my heart stopped for a moment before immediately hammering away in my chest like a jackhammer. What was happening made no logical sense, and I was vaguely worried that I’d been stricken with some sort of delirium. The man from Vegas, the man I’d drunkenly married, was my surgeon? If that wasn’t hysterical enough, the fact that he spoke so cavalierly set something off in me that would not readily be contained. I nearly leaped from the table, my lips pulling back in what could only be described as a snarl. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed for the audacious greeting.

  “How can you help me? Wow, I can think of a number of things. You could have started by not marrying me when I was blackout freakin’ drunk! I wasn’t looking for some kind of commitment. We agreed no strings! Yet I still have that stupid ring in my pocket and—” I paused, my eyes bulging as they landed on his hand. He was wearing…his ring. Like this was more than some kind of a charade. I barked out a laugh, looking at him in disbelief. He shifted uncomfortably, and I felt some vindication for my ability to make him feel bad.

  “Are you quite finished?” he asked wearily, as if I were the most burdensome thing to plop into his life. Maybe I was, but at least the feeling was mutual. I glared at him with as much vitriol as I could muster, praying in vain that a look would magically gain the ability to kill someone. Instead, he only looked a bit more uncomfortable, but he didn’t speak any further.

  “I only wanted something to take my mind off of my dickhead boyfriend. I just needed to get his taste out of my mouth, and here I sit. A married woman. Why don’t you just make me barefoot and pregnant while you’re at it?” I hissed. I couldn’t help but feel a thrill spread through my body as I thought of being pregnant with his child. Not that I was on board with the whole motherhood thing all of the sudden. It was more about the act of how I would become that way. We would have to have lots and lots of sex, and from what my body recalled, he was an amazing lover.

  “I could be helping you get that taste out of your mouth right now, if you’d just ask,” he said boldly, looking a bit contrite. I sputtered, unable to form words. Who did this man think he was? More importantly, why was his bluntness so arousing? I shifted uncomfortably, wrapping my arms around myself for some sense of comfort. It didn’t work. It never did. The last thing I needed was to get tangled up with this guy again, especially considering he was wearing the ring like what had happened was completely normal and natural. I could fe
el myself quaking, though I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, fear, or some horrible mix of the two. His eyes felt like they could pierce through my soul with the look he was giving me, like he wanted nothing more than to take me once more on the exam table. I flushed when I realized that he would probably be pleased to do as much. Clearing my throat, I tried to stave off the blush creeping up my neck.

  “How about we just stick to what I came here for, okay? I don’t want to deal with… this, right now. I just came in for a consult, and if you could keep it professional…” I shakily attempted to demand, though he only raised a brow.

  “A consult for what? A boob job? An Ass enhancement?” he glanced dispassionately down at my record. “I’ve seen them. They’re perfect as is. I couldn’t change them in good conscience; to do so would go against the Hippocratic Oath,” he continued, raising a brow almost daringly. I knew he was talking out of his ass at that point, and it nearly made me see red from anger.