The Marriage Moment

by Katie Meyer

  She flinched at his words, but he didn’t let that keep him from saying what needed to be said. “You can stay—for now. We’ll go back to our original agreement, a marriage on paper only, and just until the baby is old enough for daycare.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for the baby.”

  “I never meant to hurt you.” Her voice was strong, but he could hear the pain beneath the pride.

  “I believe you.” He did. But the damage was done, and it didn’t hurt any less than if she’d planned it. “But I can’t have a relationship without trust. You didn’t trust me. And now I can’t trust you.”

  “So that’s it?” Her eyes filled, their rich brown depths drowning in a whirlpool of emotion. “You’re giving up on us?”

  He’d spent the last few hours asking himself that same question, but hearing it on her lips reignited the anger he’d tried to tamp down. She didn’t have a right to ask that of him, not after how patient he’d been, how hard he’d tried. He’d spent the last few months waiting and hoping and wondering, doing everything he could to convince her to give their marriage a real shot. She was the one that had thrown their chance at happiness away, not him.

  So he let the anger coursing through him go cold, cold enough to numb his still bleeding heart. Because as much as he loved her, he wouldn’t set himself up for that kind of pain again. If she wanted the money so badly, she could have it. But she wouldn’t have him.

  “You sold out our chance at love when you decided cash was more important than honesty. I just hope it was worth it.”

  Without looking back, he headed to his room and shut the door on her and whatever fantasy of a family he’d built up in his head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Category 2 Hurricane

  Winds of 96-110 MPH

  Expect flooding, power outages and flying debris

  Mandatory evacuation for all barrier islands

  Hurricane Nova was barreling toward Paradise Isle, sneaking in on the last day of hurricane season, but it was the maelstrom of her life that was preoccupying Jessica’s thoughts.

  It had been thirteen weeks and three days since she’d realized she was in love with Ryan. And after their big blow up, every minute had been an agony of polite dismissal. Yes, he asked her how her day was, and yes, he went to the doctor’s appointments with her. He’d even participated in the childbirth classes the hospital provided. But there were no more spontaneous conversations, no more casual touches. Now when he went to the grocery store he stuck to a list rather than sneaking in little surprises he thought she might like.

  To his credit, he never brought up her dishonesty, nor said an angry word. He was a model of a gentleman. The perfect roommate.

  And it was killing her.

  She’d thought their fight the day the trust fund paperwork arrived was the worst thing that could happen. But this cold civility was so much worse. Every day she had to see him, and know she couldn’t have him—not physically, and not as the true friend and partner he’d become in the early days of her pregnancy. Every day she was reminded of what she’d had and then lost. People said that time healed all wounds, but how could it when the scar was constantly being ripped open?

  Only once had she gotten a glimpse of the old Ryan, the one she’d fallen in love with, the one who had loved her too. It had been a brief but powerful moment, when, in a cramped exam room, her belly covered in goo, they’d squinted together at a grainy black-and-white picture hoping that this time the baby would cooperate and they’d finally be able to find out if the baby she was carrying was a boy or a girl.

  Without thinking she’d clutched Ryan’s hand, her heart pounding as they waited. Back in her second trimester, when their already stubborn unborn child refused to uncross his or her legs, Ryan had claimed he didn’t care, as long as the baby was healthy, but she knew he wanted a son to carry on his late father’s name. She wanted that for him. So when, after all the waiting, the technician announced it was a boy she’d impulsively pulled him into a hug. For half a second he’d returned the embrace before remembering himself and pulling away. After the appointment she’d wanted to celebrate, to enjoy the moment together, but the wall he’d so carefully built was already back up between them.

  Since then she’d been careful not to let herself forget that theirs was a business arrangement, nothing more. Her heart wasn’t strong enough to take the pain of constant rejection otherwise. Even still, it was a dull ache, always with her. Her friends had thrown her a shower, and were encouraging her to look forward to the birth of her son. But how could she, when counting down the days to her due date just reminded her that her time with Ryan was running out?

  As hard as it was to live with him she couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to leave. She’d grown accustomed to hearing him sing off-key in the shower in the morning, to seeing his dirty running shoes on the front step when she got home. They might not be a normal family, but they fit together. Moving out was going to be like losing a part of herself.

  But she couldn’t think about that now. The baby was due in three weeks, and that had to be her focus. That, and her job. She’d moved to mostly desk work as her duty belt had gotten too difficult to wear for hours on end, but today, it was all hands on deck to enforce evacuation orders. She and the other deputies were tasked with making sure everyone knew about the warning and was able to get to safety well ahead of the storm. Those without transportation were being given free bus tickets, but even so, not everyone was willing to go. Legally she couldn’t force anyone to evacuate, but she’d do her best to convince any stragglers it was in their best interest to move inland. A few hours from now she’d be doing that herself. Only a skeleton crew would stay at the station, and once the winds reached forty miles per hour all first responders would be off the roads, leaving those who refused to evacuate on their own until the storm passed. A harsh reality she had no problem pointing out if it would change a few old-timers’ minds about riding it out.

  She’d finished canvassing her assigned residential streets and was now tackling the downtown businesses. Many were already boarded up, their owners gone. Of course, most of them would have flood and storm insurance, making it easier to leave. Some of the residents didn’t, and so stayed in a mistaken belief they could somehow protect their property by being there. But nothing and no one could win when the battle was with Mother Nature.

  Halfway down the block she was surprised to see the Sandcastle Bakery still in operation, a hand-lettered open sign stuck to the aluminum storm shutters that covered the windows. Ducking in out of the rising wind she found Grace Keville packing boxes of baked goods.

  “Grace! Don’t tell me you’re staying?” The older woman didn’t strike her as the foolhardy type.

  “Oh, no. Lester is picking me up in a little while, and we’ve got a hotel reserved in Kissimmee. Figure once the storm passes we might hit the theme parks, make a day of it.”

  Jessica smiled. Leave it to Floridians to find a way to enjoy a hurricane. “Still, you’re cutting it close. Curfew starts in an hour.”

  “Oh, I know.” Grace closed up one box and started packing another. “We’ll be gone by then. But I figured we’d drop off some goodies at the sheriff’s office and the fire department before we go. They’re just going to go stale otherwise. And some coffee, of course. I’ve had enough of you deputies in here complaining about the stuff they brew at the station to know my special roast might be appreciated.”

  “You are an angel. An honest-to-goodness angel.” She eyed a sugar-crusted apple fritter. “If I’d known you were going to be supplying the refreshments I might have volunteered to stay myself.”

  “Oh no!” Grace shook her head, her perfectly coiffed silver hair barely moving. “You know, they say storms can bring on labor, something about the barometric pressure. You need to be somewhere safe
on the mainland. But,” she winked, “I wouldn’t want you to make that drive on an empty stomach.” She slipped the fritter Jessica had been eyeing into a small paper bag and handed it to her. “For the road.”

  “Thank you.” Jessica’s stomach grumbled in anticipation. “Don’t suppose you have any decaf to go with it?”

  “Of course, help yourself. It’s the urn on the left, the one with the red spout.” She paused, “Oh, I forgot to ask if you want anything for that handsome husband of yours. What does he like?”

  “Ryan? He’s staying at the station. My mom and I are going to make a girl’s night of it—she’s already at the hotel.” She tried to keep her voice light, but Grace’s eyes narrowed in disapproval. “Hmph. Doesn’t that silly man know his place is with you during all this? I’ve half a mind to send my Lester over to tell him so. Wife ready to pop and a storm coming on—he should be right there by your side!”

  Secretly, Jessica agreed. But there was no reason for him not to work—she had weeks until the baby was supposed to arrive and her mom would be with her. She’d be perfectly safe so far inland—Orlando wasn’t predicted to get more than a bit of rain and a stiff breeze.

  She told Grace as much, thanked her for the refreshments, and headed back out. She had a job to do, and no time for old wives’ tales, even ones served with a side of pastry.

  * * *

  Ryan parked the patrol car in front of the station, warily eyeing the wall of clouds moving in from the southeast. You couldn’t truly predict something as wild as a hurricane, but every indication was that it was going to pack a wallop and Paradise Isle was in the crosshairs. The station had been retrofitted to meet current building codes, and the homes built in the years since Hurricane Andrew would probably be fine. But there were plenty of older homes that were in danger, and of course there was the storm surge to contend with as well. If Nova behaved herself and stayed offshore they shouldn’t make out too badly, but a direct hit would mean massive devastation. He’d faced down some bad storms in Miami, and didn’t relish seeing that kind of destruction here.

  At least Jessica would be safe. He’d insisted she evacuate and their superiors had agreed. He was trying so hard to keep his feelings for her on lockdown, but the way his heart pounded at just the thought of her in danger told the true story. He still loved her. He’d never stopped. He just didn’t know what to do about it. His religion preached forgiveness, and his heart agreed. But his pride told him he’d made the right choice in pushing her away.

  Or was that just cowardice talking? Was he doing the sensible thing, or was he just afraid of getting hurt again?

  Spitting rain chilled his skin as he sprinted across the parking lot into the relative warmth of the station. Most of those who were staying were already there, helping themselves to the contents of a stack of pizza boxes and telling war stories of past storms. The natives, like him, had been through other hurricanes, others had heard stories. All knew the power that was about to be unleashed, and the nervous tension in the room belied their casual tone. But that was how people made it through these kinds of things. A little gallows humor helped keep you sane when the world as you knew it was at risk of being blown into the ocean.

  “Hey, O’Sullivan, I thought you’d be on your way to Orlando with my mom and Jessica.” Alex crossed the room to him, a bottle of water in one hand and the duty roster in another. “I was just about to tell Jeremy he’d made a mistake on this thing.”

  “No mistake. I’m here for the duration.”

  “Seriously?” Alex frowned. “Dude, she’s pregnant. Really, really pregnant. Don’t you think she needs you?”

  “I know how pregnant she is. But you know your sister, she’s fully capable of taking care of herself. She said she was fine with me staying.”

  “Oh hell, she used that word? She said ‘fine’?”

  Ryan shrugged, and grabbed a slice of pizza for himself. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

  Alex shook his head and laughed, a look of sheer disbelief on his face. “I’d have thought you’d have figured it out by now. When my sister says something is fine it means exactly the opposite. Her escalation levels are annoyed, angry, totally pissed off and fine. You, my friend, are in deep doggy doo.”

  “Knock it off. If she’d wanted me to go with her she would have said something.”

  “Probably.” Alex took a swig of water. “Which means you must have already been skating on thin ice.” He ducked into an empty office and motioned for Ryan to follow. In the private room his face sobered. “Seriously, are things okay with you guys? I know she doesn’t like to talk about personal stuff with the family, but she clams up every time Mama asks how things are going, and it seems like you’ve always got other plans when she makes family dinner.”

  Mrs. Santiago’s family dinners were a monthly affair, full of Puerto Rican cooking, good-natured teasing and a lot of fun. He’d made it to a few early on, back when he’d thought it was just a matter of time before he and Jessica were a real couple. But ever since telling her it was over he’d managed to excuse himself, volunteering for extra shifts, faking illness, whatever it took. Her mother was too insightful; she’d have been sure to see the painful distance between him and his bride, to ask questions he didn’t know how to answer.

  “I’ve just been busy, that’s all. And you know how hormonal pregnant women can be.”

  “Man do I,” Alex grimaced. “But that’s usually silly stuff. Getting angry because you brought the wrong brand of ketchup or something. But Jessica... She just seems kind of sad lately. Is it the baby, man? Because if there’s something wrong—”

  “No, he’s fine.” Ryan smiled at the thought of his son. “Doctor says he’s as healthy as can be.”

  “Good, that’s good.” He nodded in relief before his expression turned serious. “But listen, I know I gave you a hard time when I found out about you and Jessica. She’s my little sister, you know? But you’ve been good for her, I can see that. So if there’s something going on...”

  Ryan was torn. On the one hand, Alex was a Santiago, his loyalties would always be to his sister. But damned if he didn’t need to talk to someone, and Alex was one of the only married men he’d made friends with since moving to the island. And no one knew Jessica better.

  “We’ve hit a bit of a bumpy spot,” he admitted. “She held back something, something she should have told me, and I’m having a hard time getting past it.”

  “That’s tough.” Alex spun the water bottle between his hands, thinking. “Is it something that, had you known, would have changed how you feel about her? Or would you still have married her if you knew?”

  “I still would have married her,” Ryan answered without hesitation.

  “Then I guess that’s your answer, isn’t it?”

  “But she didn’t trust me enough to tell me—in fact, she deliberately hid it from me. Doesn’t that mean something?”

  Alex shrugged. “Jessica’s not the type that trusts easily. She’s all about being independent, solving all her own problems, never asking for help. She’s been that way since she was a kid watching our mom get let down time after time. And face it, you two barely knew each other when you got hitched. I get the love at first sight thing, but trust at first sight? Cut her some slack. You’ll both be happier for it.”

  Ryan nodded slowly. Maybe he had been unfair, expecting Jessica to trust him that much that quickly, when so much was at stake. And later, she’d probably been afraid that admitting her deception would push him away—a self-fulfilling prophecy. It wasn’t right, but maybe they could find a way to work past it, if she wanted to. “You might have a point.”

  “Of course I do. Trust is earned, and if I was you I’d start by taking your name off that duty roster and finding her before they close the roads down.”

  Alex was right. If he wanted to prove to Jessica he had her best interests at heart, he needed
to start acting like a real husband, not some schoolboy who’d had his feelings hurt. He needed to go find his wife.

  * * *

  Jessica banged on the locked door of the Paradise Animal Clinic. The shutters were up and the welcome sign was flipped to Closed but she’d seen Cassie’s car in the lot and there were lights on in the back. A chorus of barking answered her knock—were the animals the only ones in there? Or was Cassie trying to be a hero?

  Jessica had passed right by the clinic during her first patrol of the street, assuming it was empty. She’d gone home, grabbed Goldie and an overnight bag, and was headed for the mainland when she’d spotted Cassie’s car.

  Worried, she banged again, hard enough to rattle the glass. “Cassie! Are you in there?” Maybe she’d had car trouble and gotten stuck? But surely she would have called someone for a ride.

  Worried, she absently rubbed her belly. The Braxton Hicks contractions were getting to be a real pain. Finally, she spotted Cassie coming to the door, smiling as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As soon as the door was unlocked Jessica pushed her way in. “What are you doing here! The bridge will be closing soon, you’ve got to get out now.”

  Cassie shook her head, “I’m staying.”

  Jessica felt her mouth drop. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Nope. I’ve got patients that can’t be moved. But don’t worry,” she added quickly, “this place is built like a vault. Everything is up to the highest code, built to withstand a Cat 4. And I’ve got generators for power and plenty of water and food. Dad’s ridden out plenty of storms here. I’ll be fine.”