The Friend Zone

by Abby Jimenez

  “It’s not Sloan.” He gave me a smile. “It’s my sisters.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  He grinned at me. “I went home to have a family meeting. I met with all six of my sisters and their husbands. I told them I was head over heels in love with a very practical woman who wouldn’t have me unless I figured this out.”

  A laughing sob choked from my lips, and I put a hand over my mouth.

  “All six of them volunteered. They even argued about who gets to go first. It’s no fun unless they get to argue.”

  I snorted, rivers spilling over my cheeks.

  He pulled me in, thumbing tears off my face. “Kristen, I need you to know that if none of these options were available to us, I would still want you. I want you no matter what. I want you first before I want anything else.” His face was earnest and steady. “I have no chance of happiness if I can’t have you. None.”

  I buried my face into his neck, and he held me to him.

  “It’s hard for me, Josh. It’s hard to feel like I’m enough,” I whispered.

  “Well, I’ll just have to spend the rest of our lives working on that, won’t I? Which brings me to the next thing. Look at me.”

  He tipped up my chin. “I think we should get married.” His eyes moved back and forth between mine. “Today.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Josh

  We stood on her porch, and she looked up at me with those brown eyes. “You want to marry me now? Today?”

  The tower was gone. The drawbridge, the piranhas, the machine guns—gone. She was happy and open wide and her love was in everything. It poured out of her. It was in the way she looked at me. The tone of her voice. It was in her hand on my chest and her kiss, the smile that reached her eyes and the set of her mouth.

  All these weeks I’d planned and prayed for this outcome. I didn’t even know what I’d do if I failed. It was something I’d refused to let myself think about.

  But I hadn’t failed.

  And now, seeing her love me like this was a relief for my soul. I had all of her for the first time. She was mine. She was finally mine.

  But it wasn’t time to celebrate yet.

  I’d thought long and hard about this over the last few weeks. We still didn’t know if she had some underlying health issues, and I’d bet my life that if she did, she’d leave me again to spare me having to take care of her.

  Kristen believed in marriage. She believed in better and worse and sickness and health, and if she made that commitment to me, I knew she’d honor it. Even if she was the one who was sick.

  I needed to seal this deal before she changed her mind. I’d seen time and time again how quickly I could lose her, and I had no intention of letting that happen by putting more time between us while we planned a wedding. Not while she was one bad doctor’s visit from bailing on me.

  “Hear me out,” I said. “The fact that I’m crazy in love with you doesn’t play into this. I promise. I know how much you’d hate it if I wanted to marry you in any sort of romantic sense, right?”

  She laughed. God, I missed her.

  “You’re about to have a major surgery, and your insurance isn’t as good as mine. You could see any doctor you want. You’d have access to any specialist you want to see, without a referral. I don’t want to end up like Sloan and Brandon. I don’t want to die not being married to the woman I love. And I want us to be able to make medical decisions for each other in the event that something happens to us.”

  She bit her lip. “The thought of my mom having total say does scare me a little bit, actually.”

  I grinned. I knew it would. “Also, the tax benefits for married couples are pretty generous.”

  “That is true.” She smiled at me, her beautiful face light and open. “I have to say you make a pretty good argument. Do you need citizenship? Or maybe you need me to help you move a body and you don’t want me to be able to testify? Because if you did, I think that would clinch the deal.”

  I pulled her closer. “Marry me. Now. Today. Let’s go down to city hall and just do it.”

  Say yes. Please, say yes.

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  My heart exploded in my chest. “Yes?”

  She bit her lip and smiled. “Yeah, I can’t really argue with the pros list.” Her brow wrinkled. “But what about your family? They won’t be mad you’ve run off and married some random woman?”

  Fuck my family—and I meant that in the most loving possible way—but my family was the last thing I was thinking about at the moment. I wouldn’t be able to relax until Kristen was my wife. None of this was real or certain until we were married.

  This first, family and taking deep breaths later.

  I shook my head. “My parents already married off six daughters. They’re relieved they don’t have to do another wedding. I already told them what I planned to do. We can go home for a party whenever we’re ready.”

  “Oh!” She bounced up and down. “Can we get our wedding rings at the Pulp Fiction pawnshop?”

  I smiled, a cautious excitement seeping in. “Anything you want.” I checked my watch. “If we want to do this today, we have to get going. You can probably take a few minutes to change.”

  “Okay, and I’ll call Sloan,” she said, reaching for her phone.

  My stomach dropped. I knew this was coming, and my heart ached preemptively with what I had to tell her. I put a hand to her wrist. “Kristen,” I said gently. “Sloan knows that I was going to propose to you. She doesn’t want to be there.”

  Her happiness bled out in front of me, and my own joy at the situation sank. I hated to see her hurting. I wished I could give her all the things she wanted today. But Sloan wasn’t for sale.

  I looked at her softly. “She’s supportive. She was rooting for me. She asked me to text her with your answer. But she can’t go to a wedding.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded, her brown eyes glossing just enough to make my heart break. “No. She wouldn’t be able to handle it. Of course.” She smiled up at me, weakly this time, trying to put on a good face. I loved her for it. But I knew how deeply this hurt her. It hurt me too.

  We finally had each other, but both of us had lost our best friends.

  FORTY

  Kristen

  We sat on brown wooden benches on opposite sides of the hallway of the courthouse, waiting for our names to be called. We’d gotten our marriage licenses and rings and managed to get the last appointment of the day for a civil ceremony.

  It cost thirty-five dollars to be married by a justice of the peace, plus an extra twenty bucks for two court-assigned witnesses we didn’t know to sign our marriage certificate.

  I didn’t have flowers or a cake. I wasn’t in a wedding dress. My ring was so loose I’d had to put tape around it to keep it on. It rained on us in the parking lot. We wouldn’t have a first dance or photos or the mawage guy. My best friend wouldn’t stand next to me and neither would his.

  It was the lamest, saddest wedding in the history of weddings—and I was so excited about it I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Now that I’d let it go, I realized how exhausting my crusade had been. Like fighting to stay awake when you want to just let go and slip into a dream.

  Letting him love me was natural and easy—it was keeping him away from me that was hard. It had drained me to the core, taken everything out of me, and I was relieved that it was over.

  Josh wore the brewery shirt from the day we met, under a sport coat, and I wore the black dress from Sloan and Brandon’s party, by Josh’s request.

  I glanced at him, and he looked up from the paper in his lap and grinned at me, his dimples flashing. We were writing our own vows.

  This man was about to be my husband.

  He’d been my boyfriend for about three minutes, my fiancé for the last two hours, and he was about to be my husband for the rest of my life.

  I was going to be Kristen Copeland.

  I don’t know what he was thinkin
g as he watched me from across the wide courthouse corridor, but I’d never seen him look so happy.

  “Kristen Peterson and Joshua Copeland?”

  Our names being called shook us from our private moment. Josh got up and gave me his hand. Then, just before we went inside, he pulled me into him. “Are you ready?”

  God, I was so ready it wasn’t even funny.

  “Yes.” I drew my bottom lip into my mouth and smiled.

  He caressed my cheek. “You know you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, right?” His eyes blazed with emotion. “I love you, Kristen. You are the one great love of my life.”

  His words gripped my heart. “I love you too, Joshua. Forever.”

  * * *

  The ceremony was in an office. We stood in front of the desk as a gray-haired clerk confirmed our names and checked our IDs. Our witnesses stood against the back wall as the ceremony started. We were a few minutes into it and I was just about to read my vows when the door burst open and Sloan spilled inside.

  My jaw dropped.

  She looked like a zombie bridesmaid. Her braid was frizzy, and her red lipstick was crooked. She wore the pink bridesmaid’s dress from her mom’s wedding three years ago, and she’d buttoned the dress wrong. Her hands clutched the half-dead flowers from her kitchen that I’d been picking through earlier. She must have taken them out of the trash. She had deep, dark circles under her eyes, and she looked pale, even with the blush.

  But she was here.

  I threw my arms around her.

  “I couldn’t not be here,” she whispered.

  I couldn’t even imagine the strength it must have taken for her to pull herself out of the house to be here for me. The emotional anguish she would feel, watching me have the wedding she never got.

  But she came.

  Josh hugged her, and for the first time, I saw Brandon’s absence etched on his face. He’d been doing a good job trying not to dwell on it, I think. But with Sloan here, Brandon was a void.

  This wasn’t the way any of this was supposed to go. Sloan and Brandon would have been long done with their honeymoon by today, at home and settled in. I don’t know where Josh and I would be, but I realized now there was no world in which the two of us didn’t end up together. And Brandon and Sloan would have been in our wedding, supporting us.

  Instead, it was just her. And she wasn’t really her anymore. I didn’t know if she ever would be again.

  But at least she was here.

  Sloan stood next to me and I sniffled, picking up the Taco Bell receipt I’d jotted my vows down on.

  I looked up at Josh. His chest rose and fell a little too fast. He had this look on his handsome face—a touch of anxiety, worry, and anticipation around his brow, like he was afraid at any minute all this would be taken from him, like I might suddenly change my mind.

  I deserved that.

  This was a shotgun wedding. Josh was the one holding the shotgun.

  This whole thing was some flash-bang-chaos campaign to hustle me into marriage before I got my bearings. He wanted to lock me down before I freaked out on him and ran. That’s why he’d rushed this. Only, the joke was on him—I wanted to be locked down, and I’d never change my mind. I’d never leave him again. If he wanted this rust bucket of a body so badly, he could have it, and I’d just have to spend the rest of my life making sure he felt secure and loved.

  I looked at him, my eyes steady, and I took a deep breath. “Joshua, I vow to text you back.”

  Everyone in the room laughed, my fiancé included, and his face relaxed.

  I continued. “I will answer every call you make to me for the rest of my life. You’ll never chase me again.”

  His eyes filled with tears, and he seemed to let go of a breath he’d been holding.

  “I promise to always go to family day at the station so you know that you’re loved. I vow to support you and follow you anywhere until you’ve found the place that makes you happy. I’ll be your best friend and try and fill that hole in your heart. I’m going to take care of you and cherish you, always and no matter what.” I smiled at him. “I’ll orbit around you and be your universe, because you’ve always been my sun.”

  He wiped at his eyes, and he had to take a moment before he read his own vows.

  While I waited, I let his face anchor me. I soaked him in, let his love remind me again and again that I was worth it.

  He looked at his paper and then seemed to decide he didn’t need it, setting it down on the desk. He gathered up my hands. “Kristen, I vow that no matter what health issues lie ahead, I will love and take care of you. I will show you every day of your life that you’re worth everything. I will carry your worries. All I ask is that you carry your own dog purse.”

  The room chuckled again.

  “I promise to love Stuntman Mike and slay your spiders, and keep you from getting hangry.”

  Now I was laughing through tears.

  “I will always defend you. I’ll always be on your side.” Then he turned to Sloan. “And I vow to protect and care for you, Sloan, like you’re my sister, for the rest of my life.”

  This did it. The tears ran down my face, and I was in his arms and weeping before I knew I’d closed the distance.

  We were both crying. We were all crying, even the witnesses who had no idea how hard the journey had been to get here, the sacrifices that were made for this union.

  Or who we’d lost along the way.

  FORTY-ONE

  Kristen

  Doctors’ offices are never warm enough. You’d think they’d keep the heat up in a place where you’re expected to sit and wear nothing but a paper gown.

  Josh leaned next to me against the examining table where I sat with my bare legs dangling. He held my hand so I couldn’t fidget.

  “Does it always take this long?” he asked, checking his watch.

  His wedding ring was on his watch hand and I smiled at it, despite being cold and nervous. The inscription inside his ring said “okay.” I’d had my ring sized, and Josh had it inscribed with “my universe.” We were adorable.

  We were also hungry.

  It had been almost a half an hour since the ultrasound tech finished taking images. Nobody had been back since, and I’d had to fast for a glucose test. Josh hadn’t eaten in solidarity, so we were both starving.

  I sighed. “I don’t know how long this takes. I’ve never had a pre-op for a hysterectomy before.”

  We’d been married four weeks. It had been a hectic month.

  Josh had moved in with me, but we realized almost on day one that we needed a place closer to Sloan. Both of us were there more than we were at home.

  We asked her to move in with us and she’d flatly refused. We asked to move in with her and she refused that too. So we’d been house hunting in addition to merging our lives, launching our new line of doghouses, and taking care of my best friend.

  Josh had taken on all the home repairs that Brandon hadn’t gotten to. He cooked most of our meals, and I spent almost every day still getting her out of bed, cleaning her house, trying to cheer her up.

  She wasn’t getting any better.

  The only time I could get her to leave the house was to visit Brandon’s grave or for the occasional visit to Starbucks. She refused to go to the doctor for counseling or antidepressants to help get her through. I didn’t know what else to do.

  Josh nuzzled me and I closed my eyes, leaning into him. “What should we bring to Sloan’s for lunch?” he asked.

  “Um, she likes tacos. We can stop at the taco truck on the way over.”

  He cupped my cheek with his hand. “Sounds good. Remind me to fix her bedroom door. The lock has been sticking.”

  I tilted my head and he kissed me. He was always kissing me. Touching me, hugging me, holding my hand. We didn’t get a honeymoon, but it didn’t matter.

  Every day was our honeymoon.

  Last week Sloan’s mom came and spent a few days with her so Josh and I could fly to
South Dakota for me to meet his family.

  He was not kidding. His sisters were crazy.

  I loved those bitches.

  It was like running with a pack of female alpha wolves fighting for the pack leader position. It was so much fun.

  When we were there, we decided his sister Carmen was in the best place to be our first surrogate. She was a stay-at-home mom with her toddler and her seven-year-old, and she’d had the easiest pregnancies.

  I’d have to do daily injections before they could harvest my eggs, and my fibroids never responded pleasantly to hormones, so even though we were busy with Sloan and my recovery was going to be a long one, we decided to schedule my hysterectomy.

  It was time. My cramps had been horrible, and I was still spotting almost daily. The fibroids had started pushing against my bladder, and I couldn’t sleep on my stomach anymore because it was too uncomfortable. And no matter how many times Josh told me I was sexy, I didn’t feel like it with my potbelly.

  I was ready to be done.

  Josh was kissing me when the knock came on the door, and we jumped away from each other like teenagers who just got caught making out.

  Dr. Angelo let himself in, looking at my chart. “Well, we have all your tests back. Mr. Copeland, you were definitely right to be concerned.” He flipped a page, scanned it for a moment, and then turned to me. “You’ve got a few things going on that unfortunately are going to make the hysterectomy out of the question.”

  His face was grave.

  I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. Something was wrong with me.

  I knew it.

  They say you’re only as old as you feel. I was beginning to think I might be some kind of ancient relic or something.

  For the last few weeks, I’d been getting headaches and I was really run-down. And I’d been losing weight like crazy. I kept having dizziness that I didn’t dare tell Josh about because he would have dragged me straight to urgent care. He’d already been riding me relentlessly to get my glucose levels tested. I didn’t have time to be hauled off to the hospital. I had shit to do.