Accidentally My Hero

by Jaymes, Holly

  He seemed at a loss for what to say. “I’ll show you out.”

  He walked her to the door, and I was insecure enough to peek around the corner of the kitchen to see how their goodbye went. Would he tell her he’d meet her secretly? That she needed to wait until my immigration issue was over, or I was deported?

  She stepped through the door and turned to him. He stayed back inside the apartment.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you.”

  She laughed. “She made you forget me.”

  I liked the sound of that, even if it wasn’t true.

  “That means you love her,” Karen said.

  “I wouldn’t have married her if I didn’t.” That wasn’t true either.

  “I hope you’re happy. If you ever … well …”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, but you and I … all that is over.”

  She sighed. “Such a pity. For me, anyway.” She turned away and Will shut the door.

  I rushed back to grab my pot and fill it with water so he wouldn’t know I was eavesdropping.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said as he stood in the entry to the kitchen.

  “Sorry you fucked her, or sorry that I caught you?” Inwardly I cringed, partly at my language, but mostly because I didn’t want him to know that I was pissed and jealous.

  “I didn’t fuck her.”

  I poured some olive oil in the water. “You were washing my essence off in the shower so you could fuck her later?”

  “I wasn’t going to fuck her at all.” His voice rose. “I’m not an idiot. Do you really think I’d cheat on you when I knew you were going to be home from work?”

  “So, you’d cheat if I wasn’t going to be home?”

  “What the fuck, Adalyn? I wouldn’t cheat at all. Do you really think that’s the type of man I am?”

  I turned to him, as clarity came to me. “I don’t know what kind of man you are at all. I walked in here and found a woman who clearly expected to have sex with you. She had no clue who I was. You were in the shower … naked. What was I supposed to think?”

  “The benefit of the doubt might have been nice. I know you think I’m a bore and a dullard, but you can’t possibly think I was a virgin until the other night in Vegas. I’ve slept with other women.”

  What I found really odd was that this woman didn’t seem to care that much that he was married. She was disappointed, surprised, but not angry that her boyfriend took a trip and came home married.

  A new thought zapped in my head. “You cheated on her with me.” Cripes, I was the other woman. Sort of.

  “No! Karen and I have — had — an arrangement. Now that arrangement is done.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, until I’m deported or we’re sent to jail. If you’re lucky, she’ll come see you for conjugal visits.”

  He stared at me like he didn’t know me. He didn’t. Just as I didn’t know him. What the hell was I doing? I turned the burner off and walked out of the kitchen, heading to the guest room.

  “What are you doing?” he asked following me up the hall.

  “I’m packing. I’m going to my apartment. On Monday, I’m going to resign, file for a divorce, and then let Mr. Bigalow know that once my divorce is final, I’ll return to Canada.”

  The Honeymoon Is Over

  Will — Friday

  I couldn’t figure out what feeling was the most predominant: anger, or panic. Did she really think I’d cheat on her? And what the fuck was Karen doing here? I told her I couldn’t see her. Shit, I forgot to get her key.

  As Adalyn packed her bag, a desperation to make her stay filled me. That feeling pissed me off, too. I didn’t want to feel that. I didn’t want her to be so important to me. This was a fake marriage, after all. Why was she so pissed?

  Because I couldn’t figure out what emotion to respond to her with, I didn’t say anything.

  “You just going to stand there?” she snapped.

  “What can I do? You’ve made your decision. I told you who she is and what she was to me, and you’re choosing to chuck your career. Anyone willing to give that up isn’t going to be swayed by the man who is risking his business — one that feeds the families of hundreds of employees — to help you stay in the country.”

  She stopped and glared at me. “Don’t you try to guilt trip me or make me look unreasonable. That woman fully expected to get naked with you. I’m surprised she didn’t join you in the shower.”

  “You’re jealous.” I said it because I wanted to push her back on her heel as she had me.

  She scoffed. “You’re delirious.”

  “Then what do you care if I’m fucking someone else or not?”

  “You made a big stink about making this marriage look real. Is this your idea of saying all husbands cheat?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Did you not use a condom with her either? Maybe I should be concerned that you didn’t with me.”

  My jaw ticked. The truth was, I always used a condom. Always. Until Vegas. Until Adalyn. “Make up your mind. I’m a bore and a square or I’m a reckless cheater. I’m getting whiplash trying to keep up.”

  “That slogan about what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas isn’t a marketing tool, it’s a warning. I should have never let you talk me into staying married.”

  “And I shouldn’t have ever let you talk me into living a little. Right now, I could go for a little boring.” Jesus, I should have just walked away. This was getting us nowhere. She didn’t want to stay, and as much as I didn’t want her to go, I wasn’t going to beg. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I shouldn’t be treated like I had.

  “I’m sure Karen would be pleased that you think she’s boring.”

  “Wow.” I shook my head.

  She went into the adjoining bathroom and came back out with a makeup bag. “If you called her, she’d probably come back. You can have your boring sex.”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “You win, Adalyn. You want to believe I’m a heel, go ahead.”

  “Good. Thank you.” She shoved her makeup bag into her suitcase, and closed it up. “Is that how your father raised you, Will? Did he cheat on your mother?”

  Red hot rage blasted through me. I felt it crackle on my skin. “Don’t.” My voice was low, but the way her eyes widened indicated my tone was menacing. “I know I’ll never be the man my father was, but you’re not half the woman my mother is. Don’t you ever talk about my father. Or my mother. You’re not worthy to have any opinion about them.”

  I turned and left her room, not sure where I’d go, but knowing I couldn’t stand to look at her. I considered getting a drink, but instead went out on the terrace to take in heaving breaths. I gripped the railing like it was the only thing keeping me from going completely ballistic.

  I’d sacrificed my honor and integrity to help this woman, and this was how she repaid me. It was bad enough that my business would be at risk, my father would be disappointed in me too if he were alive to witness this. He was the most decent, honorable person I ever knew. I strove to be like him, even knowing I’d fall short.

  But because I lusted for a woman, I’d risked it all. For what? To be insulted in my own home?

  A few minutes later, her scent filled my nostrils. I cursed that she’d still tantalize me even though I was so angry, and hurt.

  “I’m sorry, Will. That was out of line.”

  I shrugged, not trusting myself to keep my words civil.

  “I know your father was important to you, and what I said was cruel.”

  I turned and leaned back on the rail. “Was that why you said it? You wanted to hurt me? Is that type of person you are?”

  At first, she looked like she was going to snap back, but then she took a breath. “No. At least, I don’t want to be that type of person.”

  “You want me to believe that?”

  She nodded.

  “And yet, what I saw tol
d me otherwise. Sort of like you’ve decided I’m a cheater even though I’m telling you I’m not.”

  She sighed. “This was a mistake. I’m getting in the way of your life.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Have I complained? Did I tell you that?”

  “You didn’t have to. The proof of it was here, planning to get naked with you.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe instead of making assumptions, you could ask me.”

  She stared at me.

  “Go ahead. Ask me if you’re cramping my life. Ask me if I feel one bit of disappointment that Karen won’t be in my bed tonight, because the answer is no, Adalyn. The only woman I want in my bed is you.” Fuck, I thought as I shared too much information. I ground my teeth. Time to move on. She wanted to go. Her bag was sitting just inside the door. “Do you need help with your bag?”

  “You said we couldn’t blur the lines. That’s why I’m in the guest room.”

  “What do you want? Are you staying or are you going?” I didn’t want to talk about how badly I wanted to blur the lines with her despite the fact that we were in the middle of a fight.

  “If you want me, why have you pushed me away?”

  “Right now, it’s clear that you and I don’t know a lot about each other. Jumping into bed, no matter how appealing that sounds, isn’t a good idea.”

  She nodded.

  “So, what are you doing?” I asked again.

  She went back inside and picked up the bag she’d dropped there. I watched as she walked away, wanting to ask her to stay, but feeling too raw to do so. When she reached the hallway, she turned, and headed down towards the guest room.

  I turned to the railing as my breath released in a huge gust of relief. She was staying.

  Despite the drop in temperature, I stayed out on the terrace, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Did I go on like nothing had happened? Was I supposed to talk some more with her about this situation? Maybe she was right and we should just give it up. It had only been two days and already our marriage was wracked with accusations of infidelity. That didn’t bode well for us. Except this wasn’t real, dammit.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out on the terrace, when the door opened.

  “Dinner is ready.”

  I turned to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she didn’t sound friendly either. Distant was the best way to describe it. Her eyes held that same aloofness.

  I nodded. “Thank you.” I followed her in. The table was set, the plates were full of pasta, and two wine glasses were filled to the brim with wine. I guess she needed the soothing effect of alcohol too. I’d rather have something stronger, but I’d take this.

  “It smells delicious,” I said sitting at the table.

  “Thank you. Do you want extra parmesan?” She handed me a bowl with the grated cheese.

  I didn’t need more, but I took it anyway.

  The meal was awkward. We were civil, but cool and aloof. There wasn’t the usual banter and joking. After dinner, I told her I’d do the dishes. I was relieved when she let me do them alone, saying she was going to take a bath, if that was okay with me.

  With a sigh, I reminded her that this was her home now, too. She didn’t need to ask permission to use or do anything.

  When the dishes were done, I thought about watching TV or reading, but ultimately, I went to my office. Only work had a chance of distracting me from thoughts of Adalyn. Even that didn’t work very well, especially when I thought about her naked, warm and soft in the tub. God, I wanted to see that. To join her.

  Unable to get work done, I went to bed. Not that I fared much better there. I tossed and turned as my brain refused to turn off. What the fuck were we doing?

  No, what I needed to ask was, what the fuck were we going to do to make sure we pulled this off? She’d sent in the green card application. We’d both talked to her immigration agent. We were knee-deep in it now.

  I considered getting up and going to her room to hash out a plan, but ultimately decided we both needed to a good night's sleep. We were tired and stressed right now. Tomorrow we’d be refreshed and could think straight, without being bogged down by emotion. Since it was Saturday, we’d have the whole day to figure things out. And on Sunday … fuck … I didn’t know what to do about my family. Of course, I had to continue the ruse, but the guilt in my gut suggested I’d have an ulcer by the time this was all over and done with.

  “You made your bed, Sloane,” I said as I rolled over and willed sleep to come. We’d made the bed together, though. Perhaps it was time to rethink the idea that we had to sleep in it alone.

  Preparing to Pass the Marriage Test

  Adalyn — Saturday

  I woke up feeling hungover. Not nauseous, but like I had cotton in my head. It was a sure sign that I’d been emotionally wrung out.

  I was out of line with Will. That was my final assessment as I lay in the tub the night before and replayed the evening. I’d let my jealousy get away from me. He didn’t want to blur lines with me, but had no problem keeping the lines clear with Karen. I hated that. But what I had with him wasn’t a real marriage. I didn’t really have any claim to him.

  I’d hurt him, and the guilt about that had me staying in bed, too ashamed to face him. I’d known he loved and honored his father, and I’d accused him of cheating too. It was a wonder I hadn’t accused his mother as well. I knew first hand that they could cheat. My mother had cheated on my father every time he had to travel, and sometimes even when he wasn’t away. I was sure he stayed with her as long as he had because of me and my brother. She was the one who decided she not only didn’t want to be married, but also that she didn’t want to be a mom. That fight had happened when my father came home early from a trip and found my mother with her lover-du-jour. My brother and I got from home from school and witnessed it. We all watched as my mother packed and walked out the door. It wasn’t that different from what I’d nearly done yesterday, except I hadn’t been the one to cheat.

  The truth was, even if Will fucked Karen, it wasn’t really cheating. Our marriage was fake. He kept insisting on that. I had no rights to him.

  With that said, if we were going to pull of this charade, it wouldn’t look good if he was cheating. And second, I didn’t want to be the type of wife that was cheated on. I had some dignity and self respect.

  I dragged myself out of bed, showered, and then went to the kitchen. Will was at the stove making eggs.

  “Would you like an omelet?” he asked.

  Knowing his cooking from the other night, I wasn’t sure I did.

  “I can’t grill, but I can make an egg,” he said as if he read my mind.

  “Yes. That would be wonderful.” I poured a cup of coffee and went to look out over the view. The sun was out. It looked like it was going to be one of those crisp, cool days.

  “I was thinking we could go do something today,” he said as he brought two plates to the dining table.

  “Like what?” I asked, going to join him.

  “I don’t know. What do newly married people do?”

  Have sex a lot came to mind, but I kept it to myself.

  “What we really need to do is to get to know each other well enough that we will fool the immigration people.”

  Sex seemed like a good answer to that too. “Like what? Whether you squeeze the toothpaste from the middle of the tube, or put on the toilet paper flap on top or under?”

  He frowned. “Is that a thing a couples would know?”

  I laughed, feeling the first hint of tension release away. “So I’ve heard.”

  “Huh?” He took a sip of his coffee. “What do you do?”

  “Squeeze toothpaste from the bottom. Hang toilet paper with the end over the top.”

  “Does how the toilet paper hang really matter?”

  I shrugged. “Apparently, it does.”

  He pulled out his phone. “I’m asking Google.”

  I took a tentative bite of my eggs as he poked his phone. T
he eggs were surprisingly good.

  “This says it limits the spread of germs if the end is on the top. I guess people touch less of the roll that way.”

  “Makes sense.”

  He put his phone down. “You learn something new every day.”

  “I’ve learned you make good eggs.”

  He smirked. “I told you.”

  We sat and ate for a few minutes. The silence wasn’t tense, like it had been last night during dinner, but I still felt guilt at what I’d said to him hanging over me.

  “Will, I really am sorry I said those things about your parents. That was wrong. It was about my own family, not yours.”

  He didn’t respond at first, but then he nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t let Karen know we were off. To be honest, I hadn’t seen her in a long time. When she texted, I told her I was busy, so I don’t know why she showed up.”

  “I know why.” I waggled my brows. “And I suppose I can’t blame her.”

  The corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

  Deciding to put the past behind us, I asked, “So, what should we do? Is there a mob museum out here? Because politics can be a racquet.”

  “No, but there is a spy museum.”

  I quirked a brow. “Really? A museum that shares how people get secrets? That doesn’t seem smart.”

  He laughed. “It has the history of espionage, including the use of the hot air balloon to spy during the civil war. I think there’s a Bond exhibit there too.”

  “Oh, I like Bond.”

  “So you’ve mentioned,” he quipped.

  “Does it have firearms training?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s been awhile since I’ve been there.”

  “Sounds like fun.” I finished my breakfast and thirty minutes later, we were in a car that Will had called, riding over the 14th Street Bridge into Washington, D.C. toward L’Enfant Plaza.

  “You know, they have gambling at the MGM at the National Harbor,” he said.

  “We’re not very good at it,” I said.

  “We might be if we were sober.”

  I laughed, glad that he had a sense of humor over this crazy situation. But then I sobered from that. “What do you think they’ll ask us in the interview?”