Hopeless Vows

by Rachael Duncan

  “So, I think we need to talk about our living situation since we’re heading back in a couple days,” Austin says, breaking me out of my relaxed state on the lounge chair on the back deck of our bungalow. One of the terms of the contract is to move in together as soon as we return home. We were told by the producer we needed to discuss the logistics and financial aspect before leaving. My guess is they’re hoping to catch an argument of sorts on camera, but whatever.

  I let out a sigh. “I guess we can’t stay here forever, right?” I roll over on to my side so I can look at him. Momentarily distracted by his washboard abs and sexy tattoos, I almost forget what I was going to say. “I’m just going to say I love my apartment. The location is super convenient to my work, and it’s in the heart of everything. But, and it pains me to say this, it’s probably not big enough for the both of us. So I think my place is out.” Most people don’t get attached to their apartments, but I’m not most people. This was the first decent place I was able to provide for myself. It represents all I’ve worked hard for, all I’ve distanced myself from.

  “You could move in with me,” he offers. “I have plenty of space at my house.”

  “How far is the commute to the city?”

  He grimaces slightly. “It’s about forty-five minutes on a good day.”

  “I hate to sound difficult, but I don’t know if I can do that. Plus, I don’t have a car.”

  His mouth falls open. You’d think I just told him I’d never been to a gym before. “How do you not have a car?”

  I shrug. “I live in the city, so I really don’t need one.” Once I made the move, I sold the piece of junk I drove around in.

  “Ah, that’s right. You either walk or cab it everywhere, right?” I nod. “Explains those sexy legs of yours.” He winks and I’m reduced to a puddle of goo. Damn him and his sex appeal. His eyes slowly travel down the length of my legs, which are shiny from the suntan lotion I applied.

  “Focus, Austin,” I chide jokingly.

  His head snaps back up. “Huh? What? Oh, sorry.” He clears his throat and rights himself, pretending he has no idea what I was saying. His silliness causes me to laugh, earning me a heart-stopping smile.

  “How about this,” he says more seriously. “Why don’t we start over with a blank slate? We can get a new place that can accommodate the both of us and is close to your work. How does that sound?”

  I think his proposal over for a minute. There’s no way I can afford to pay for my current apartment, plus my part of wherever we move to. However, my place is way too small for the both of us. It’s not ideal, especially since I’ll need to go apartment hunting again when this experiment is over, but I really have no other choice. “That sounds perfect, actually.” Despite the slight inconvenience this will cause me later on, this is one of the things I like most about him. I was dreading having this discussion and planned to put it off as long as possible. Living far from work was going to be a deal breaker for me, but I didn’t need to worry because Austin is so laid back. He sees a problem and comes up with an easy solution we can both live with.

  “Do you want to split everything down the middle cost-wise?” I ask.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier if we just opened up a joint account?”

  I’m stunned silent for a moment. His willingness to go all in surprises me. Sharing finances is a huge step, and one he probably shouldn’t jump into so casually. He doesn’t know me. What makes him so sure of this—of us? If he only knew the truth, he’d run for the hills. “I don’t know. I think we should wait until the end when we make the decision to stay together or separate.”

  “Planning on leaving me already?” There’s a very subtle nervousness to his question, and my heart drops. We just met one short week ago, but something about him makes me feel like I’ve known him my whole life. If I feel this way about him now, I can’t imagine how emotionally attached I’ll be by the time this is over. I’ve tried my hardest to keep him distant, but he makes it impossible. And my failure to do so will only break my heart in the end.

  “No, but you never know what will happen. It could be you who wants out.”

  “Never.” He shakes his head for emphasis. His eyes bore holes into mine as he stares at me with nothing but resolute confidence. It puts another crack in the wall I’m trying to hide my heart behind. “But, if you feel more comfortable keeping our finances separate for the time being, then that’s okay with me.”

  “Okay, so a fifty-fifty split then?”

  “Fifty-fifty split,” he agrees.

  The last days on our honeymoon go by way too fast. I’m content in our bubble away from reality. Well, sort of. We are followed constantly, reminding me of what we’re doing and that all of our private moments will be out there for the public to devour. Not those kinds of private moments. None of that has happened yet. Austin is a complete gentleman and really respects my boundaries. His hands are on me in some form constantly, but he never makes me feel uncomfortable, and for that I’m thankful.

  As much as I’d like to get him naked and do bad things to him, I can’t give that part of myself to him. Not knowing what I do and that I plan on leaving when this is done with. It wouldn’t be fair to him. He’s in this for the long haul, the fairy tale. I see it in his eyes. He’s hopeful and excited about our future.

  Forty-one.

  That number crosses my mind over and over as our plane makes its final decent into JFK airport. I just have to keep it together for forty-one more days. Then I can leave and spare him the heartache that would eventually follow if I stayed with him.

  AUSTIN: WHAT TIME are you getting off work?

  His text comes through as I’m slipping on my black, suede peep toe platform slingbacks.

  Me: I’m hoping 5. But since I missed 2 weeks, who knows. I’ll let you know.

  Austin: No prob. I’ve got catching up to do too. Keep me posted and I’ll call the real estate agent.

  Me: Sounds good.

  Austin: See you after work. Try not to daydream about my abs, okay? ;-)

  I roll my eyes. The man is insufferable.

  Me: Don’t worry. Beer bellies aren’t my thing, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

  Austin: I’ll show you hard . . .

  My thighs clench on their own accord. Every so often, he’ll throw an innuendo out there like that. It flusters me to no end, mostly because I don’t know what to do with it. Part of me wants to tackle and attack him, but the other part tells me that’s a very bad idea. I hear another ding when I don’t respond.

  Austin: That’s what I thought. See you tonight.

  We stayed at our own places last night. I used the excuse of not wanting to make the commute in the morning since I’m already hurting from the long flight and jet lag. When he offered to stay with me, I rejected him by saying my place was a mess and way too small. He didn’t push and let it slide, but I could tell by the sideways glance he was giving me he knew something was up.

  He’s slowly seeping through my defenses and eroding them away like moving water does to a rock. It starts off jagged and sharp, but over time, the water breaks down its rough exterior and smooths it out. Instead of being hostile and strong, it’s welcoming and weak. That’s what Austin is doing to me.

  I don’t like it.

  Or maybe I do.

  Chugging the last of my coffee, I leave my apartment and hastily make my way to work via taxi. My head leans back against the headrest as I take in a deep breath. The smell of the city hits my nose and instantly relaxes me. This is what I’m used to. This is my safe place. Turning to look out the window, that thought is fleeting as I’m met with an SUV that has pulled up alongside the taxi I’m in with a cameraman hanging out of the back window, filming me. I roll my eyes, sigh, and face forward.

  Rushing into the building, I take the elevator up to the tenth floor where Trend is located. I’m a little nervous from being away so long since I’ve never taken a vacation and have crawled in on my death bed before. But I’m a
lso really excited to get back to some sense of normalcy while doing something I really enjoy.

  “Welcome back, Ms. Taylor. Or I guess I should say Mrs. James,” my boss greets as I approach her door. Her good mood causes me to be cautious. She’s never overly friendly to anyone in this office, so I’m waiting for the catch.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Van der Boor. I’m glad to be back and jump into work.”

  “That’s good because there’s a rather large pile building up on your desk.” She looks down at her desk and moves some paper around before glancing at her computer screen. “I wanted to let you know the production company contacted me about filming at the office. I declined again. I don’t need the distraction and we run on tight deadlines here.”

  “I completely understand.” Relief washes over me. That means I’ll have about eight hours a day where I’m not being filmed.

  “I did, however, agree to let them attend the party we’re hosting next week.”

  Shit, I totally forgot about this party. I’m able to hold in the groan that threatens to leave my lips. Every year, Mrs. Van der Boor hosts this lavish party to celebrate the anniversary of the first publication. Apparently, the parties didn’t used to be this big, but as the magazine grew, so did the connections she built in the industry. Now, the parties are more of a who’s who in the fashion world. It’s a pretty big deal.

  “Perfect,” I reply through a fake smile.

  “Well, then, I guess you better be on your way. Your work isn’t going to complete itself.” As she so often does, she waves her hand at me, effectively dismissing me.

  Upon entering my office, the first thing I notice is a rather large display of beautiful flowers. My mouth falls open slightly as I stand in stunned silence. I have a feeling I know who sent these, but that doesn’t slow down my pace as I make a beeline for the card nestled neatly in the bouquet.

  “The language of friendship is not in words, but in meanings.”–Henry David Thoreau

  Jillian,

  Know I’ll be thinking of you throughout the day. Enjoy the view of these parrot lilies, as well as the meaning. Friendship is the foundation to a happy relationship. And I look forward to you becoming my best friend. Have a great day, gorgeous.

  XO,

  Austin

  I couldn’t get rid of the sappy smile on my face even if I tried. I pull the flowers closer and inhale deeply, letting the aroma coat my senses. He truly is unbelievably thoughtful.

  Sitting down at my desk, my attention is quickly diverted from Austin’s surprise to the mountain of work lying before me. Man, Mrs. Van der Boor wasn’t kidding. There’s stuff all over my desk. My forehead hits the cool wood as I resist the urge to get up and head home. I start shuffling through the pile when I remember I haven’t talked to Janey since I’ve been back from Bora Bora. With the cameras out of sight, now is the perfect time.

  The phone rings twice before she answers. “Hello, stranger!”

  “Hey, yourself.”

  “I’ve been dying to talk to you! First, how was your honeymoon? Where did you go?”

  “It was really nice, and we went to Bora Bora.”

  “You lucky bitch!” I giggle a little at that. “Okay, now that that’s out of the way. What. The. Fuck?” She pauses between each word, adding the dramatic flair only she can.

  “I know. This is so messed up.” I rest my head in the palm of my hand.

  “As soon as the minister said his full name, I almost freaked out.”

  “You? I almost fainted halfway down the aisle.” I swallow hard as the memory comes rushing back. It was like I’d seen a ghost.

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “What? Are you insane? Hell, no. I don’t want anyone to know. You’re the only person I’ve told, and I’d like it to stay that way. If I tell him, the whole world will know.” I realize how selfish I sound, but I can’t let that happen. It would ruin me and everything I’ve worked hard to distance myself from.

  “I get it, but what are you going to do then?”

  “Nothing. I’m going to bide my time, then when this is over, I’ll say I want a divorce. No one will find out, he’ll be spared the hurt all over again, and I’ll put it behind me like it never happened.” Yeah, right. He’s already under my skin and it’s only been two weeks.

  “Well, you know I’m here for ya, girlie. I know this isn’t at all how you wanted this experience to go down, but I’m proud of you for staying strong. You’ll get through this, okay?”

  Tears well up in my eyes, and I’m not even sure why. Maybe it was from all the emotions I’ve been bottling up inside since the wedding day, or maybe it’s because life is a bitch. She’s cruel and mean, and right when you think you’ve got the upper hand, she’s there to kick you back down. “Thanks. I have to get back to work, but I’ll talk to you later.”

  It’s another three hours before I’m done combing through the piles of fashion leads, runway news, and other miscellaneous things. Now that I can see my desk, I turn on my computer and open up my email. The first one to catch my eye is from Mrs. Van der Boor’s assistant dated seven days ago. Hope it wasn’t important.

  Dear Team Members and Staff,

  This is a reminder of the party you are to attend to celebrate another fabulous year at Trend. Some of the designers we work with have been gracious enough to donate a few gowns. You are welcome to look at them and select one of your choosing. For the men in the office, there is also a small selection of tuxedos. These will be available based on first come first served. We expect all of our staff to present themselves in a way that reflects highly on not only Trend, but also Mrs. Van der Boor. If you have any question on your attire, please email me to schedule a meeting.

  Lastly, we need the names of your plus one to the event no later than a week from today. Details for the event are listed below.

  When: September 19, 2015 at 7:00 PM

  Where: The Metropolitan Museum of Art

  Attire: Black Tie

  Best,

  Sarah Thompson

  Executive Assistant to Karen Van der Boor

  I look at the calendar and realize I need to have my date’s info to Sarah today. I had originally planned to take Janey with me. We’d talked about it and she was so excited, but now that I’m married, shouldn’t I take my husband? I don’t want to disappoint my friend, but the show will be filming the party, and I’m sure the producers will have a fit if he’s not there with me. Feeling like I have no other choice, I send a quick text message.

  Me: Looks like someone was being sneaky this morning . . .

  His response comes a few minutes later.

  Austin: I take it you got the flowers? I was about to lay into the delivery service. They assured me they’d be there before 8.

  Looking at the clock, I see it’s already after noon. Guilt washes over me for not thanking him sooner. Way to look ungrateful, Jillian.

  Me: Sorry, I’ve been swamped here today. But thank you. They’re gorgeous.

  Austin: You’re welcome.

  Me: I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me to a work function next week?

  Austin: What kind of function?

  Me: A fancy party with a bunch of pretentious people who will judge what you wear.

  Austin: Sounds fun. Count me in!

  His sarcasm isn’t lost on me.

  Me: ha ha It’s okay if you don’t want to go. I’ll just bring Janey instead.

  Austin: Of course I’ll escort you. You don’t even need to ask. Just tell me when and where and I’m there.

  Me: Okay, I’ll fill you in on the details later. I gotta get back to work.

  Austin: K. C ya.

  I shoot a quick email back to Mrs. Van der Boor’s assistant letting her know Austin will be coming with me, and brace myself to tell my best friend she can’t come. I love Janey to death, really I do, but I find myself walking on eggshells with her a lot. She’s a very demanding friend. She tries to play it off in a passive-aggressive way, b
ut I see through it. I hate arguing with her since she’s really all I have, so I usually suck it up, ignore her attitude, fix whatever is pissing her off and move on.

  Me: Remember that party you were coming to with me?

  She answers immediately like usual.

  Janey: Yeah . . .

  Me: I’m gonna have to give you a rain check on that. I have to take Austin instead.

  Janey: Are you fucking kidding me?

  I blow out a tired breath before responding.

  Me: Look, I’m sorry. The network is forcing me to take him.

  Okay, so that’s a lie, but I have to soften the blow somehow, and creating a scapegoat seems like the perfect way.

  Janey: Whatever.

  Me: Are you seriously mad right now? I do everything with you. I’m married now, so I’m gonna be spending time with him too.

  Janey: Really? You mean the husband you’re keeping secrets from and plan to leave? lol

  Me: I can’t believe you right now. That’s pretty low down to throw that in my face.

  Janey: I’m joking. Chill out.

  Except she’s not joking. Just because you add “lol” at the end of something bitchy, doesn’t make it any less bitchy. Again, passive-aggressive. She’s always been there for me and is usually supportive, so I guess I have to take the good with the bad.

  Me: Okay I have to get back to work. Sorry again.

  And, like always, I’ll let it go to keep from fighting more.

  “EAST FIFTY-THIRD AND Second Avenue, please,” I say in a rush as I slide into the back of a taxi, shutting the door quickly. The shouts of the production crew yelling my name start to fade in the distance as we drive on. I was told they’d want to attach a small camera to the window to film me on the way there, but I don’t have time to wait for them to get permission and set up everything. I’m sure I’ll hear about this later, but I don’t give a shit. I told Austin I’d meet him at the first place the realtor wanted to show us at 5:30. Looking at my watch, it’s already 6. Dammit, I hate being late. I send a quick text to Austin.