Safe Harbor?

by Wardell, Heather

  “Celia, seriously. No honeymoon, no bachelorette?” Linda shook her head, then laughed. “Owen must be incredible in bed for you to put up with a wedding without all the good stuff.”

  Owen and I had slept together several times now, and I definitely had no complaints, but I would never describe his skills to his mother.

  When I didn’t speak, to my shock she started to turn to Melissa. Tam and I burst out talking at once, both offering other people food, to cut her off before she could ask for Melissa’s opinion on Owen’s bedroom abilities. I so didn’t want to know what she thought.

  Melissa clearly didn’t want to tell any more than I wanted to hear. She looked even sicker and sadder than she had before, and I found myself both feeling sorry for her and a little frustrated. Was she regretting leaving Owen for Nicholas? I couldn’t tell for sure from the misery I felt coming from her, but the mere idea annoyed me. She could have had him and chose not to. I didn’t want to deal with her issues.

  I managed to avoid her through the present opening, which we began right then at Tam’s joking-but-not-really insistence with Linda. Everyone was so generous, even though I knew they all doubted my sanity in marrying Owen so quickly, and I appreciated the sentiment behind their gifts even more than the gifts themselves, although I did love the new pots and pans and other kitchen things and the incredible mixer Linda gave me.

  “You’ll have to make me some cookies or something.” Linda smiled at me as I tried to adequately thank her for the over-the-top gift. “And quit being so grateful. I’m not used to it.”

  She nudged Melissa again, but again got no response but a weak smile.

  “You okay, Mel? You’re awfully quiet.”

  Melissa gave her head a little shake. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just a bit of an upset stomach.”

  Linda reached over and patted her there. “Not pregnant already, are you?”

  “No,” Melissa said, for once today showing a little energy. “No, I’m not.”

  Linda pulled her hand back. “No worries, darling, just kidding. Okay, so. Game time?”

  I’d said I didn’t want games but Dawn had warned me that Linda had been insistent. “Just let me visit the washroom first,” I said, trying to push back the inevitable.

  When I stepped out of the washroom, I found Melissa in the hall. “All yours,” I said in as cheerful a voice as I could manage.

  “I... no, I just wanted to...”

  I stopped and looked at her more closely. She was pale, her hands were shaking, and she couldn’t stand still. Plus, I was feeling all sorts of horrible emotions and she was the only person near me. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head quickly. “I don’t know if I should do this, but I have to.” She gave an almost hysterical laugh. “I guess it’s tradition.”

  I frowned and took a step back, both because she was scaring me with her words and because her fear and tension were boring their way into me.

  “Sorry. I...” She gasped in a quick breath and blurted out, “Are you sure you want to marry Owen? He’s emotionless. Cold. I’m scared you’ll regret it and I don’t want you to--”

  “I won’t,” I said quietly but with force. How dare she? “I won’t. I know who Owen is and I want to marry him.”

  Her turn to take a step back. “Okay. Okay, of course. I’m sorry. I just had to.”

  “Well, now you have,” I said, unable to be as angry as I wanted to be because I could feel how heartfelt her statement was. It wasn’t any of her business, but she meant well. “Shall we head back?”

  “I think I’ll just...” She turned and headed toward the washroom, moving fast.

  I shut my eyes and took a few long deep breaths, not wanting the others to see I was upset, then when I felt calmer made my way back to the living room.

  “Only two?” Linda was saying when I arrived. “Wow, Owen’s lucky. I can’t even tell you how many bad breakups I’ve had. To get to his age with only two is pretty good.”

  Tam looked at me, her eyes wide, then cleared her throat and pushed her glass of champagne, which I’d noticed she’d refilled several times, away. “I don’t know how many... I mean, I assume everyone’s had more than one relationship go wrong, right?”

  My friends nodded and Linda said, “I can beat anyone in this contest, with the losers I’ve dated.”

  She launched into the tale of the guy who dumped her on Valentine’s Day by phone while she lay naked on his bed covered with rose petals, and I listened and laughed with the others and wondered what story Tam had been telling. Owen and I, during our engagement-day dinner, had delved deeper into our past relationships than before he agreed to marry me, and I knew that other than the nightmare Melissa had put him through he’d had a few relationships that didn’t much matter and that had petered out without incident.

  Why was Tam suggesting he’d been badly hurt twice?

  I sucked back half my champagne and pushed it out of my head. The only emotion coming from Tam was embarrassment, so maybe she’d misspoken and hadn’t wanted to correct herself in front of Linda. Not a surprise, given how the woman tore people apart for innocent comments.

  Owen had told me the truth about his past relationships, I knew it. What benefit would he gain from lying?

  Chapter Twelve

  I stood, taking deep breaths, in the hallway outside the room where Owen and I would be married. He was already inside, and the last of our guests were just getting settled into their seats, so when the music started I’d walk in and join him at the podium that served as an altar and our officiant would do what she needed to do and in mere minutes I would be Owen’s wife.

  I’d decided not to have anyone stand up with me since Owen didn’t seem to want a wedding party, although Dawn had been devastated she couldn’t be my maid of honor, and now I was so glad about that. This time was entirely my own, and I loved having a moment to myself before I went into the room.

  In that room was nervousness and confusion and surprise and amusement, the last of which had an Austin feel to it, all swirling out under the frosted glass door and twining themselves around me, drowning out my own emotions.

  But I knew my thoughts, and they were as clear as the diamond in my engagement ring.

  I was doing the right thing.

  Melissa’s attempt to warn me away from Owen had given me a few sleepless moments in the last week, but I had no doubts now. I needed Owen to protect me from the emotional turmoil I didn’t know how to handle, and he needed me to get the career he deserved, and I was about to make both those things happen.

  The first strains of Pachelbel’s Canon drifted out of the room and a flicker of excitement hit me. My song. Owen had given me a “really? that old chestnut?” look when I’d said what I’d wanted, but I’d once watched a movie in which the bride walked down the aisle to that piece and I hadn’t been able to consider anything else for my processional.

  I listened for a second, loving the sound of the recording I’d found and loaded on my phone to be played through the room’s sound system, then took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Every face turned toward me but two, since Owen and the officiant were already facing in my direction, and the guests scrambled to their feet as I began walking down the short aisle. I smiled, amused and touched by this traditional way of honoring the bride, and kept moving forward with my eyes on my soon-to-be-husband.

  The only thing he’d done on his own for the wedding planning had been picking out his suit, and I’d assumed he wear one of the many he already owned for work but instead I felt sure his black suit was new. The pale green tie definitely was, since all of his were more classic colors. I’d shown him a tiny bit of my dress, not wanting him to see the whole thing before today, and he must have remembered and bought himself a tie to match.

  He gave me a smile, and I smiled back and ignored the sudden thought that if he weren’t so emotionless I might be able to tell whether he was actually happy to be marrying me. He couldn’t be unhapp
y to be doing it, since he’d done it voluntarily, and that was good enough.

  Tam blew me a kiss and Leonard nodded and smiled when I reached their row. I smiled back then looked the other way to see our work people. Lawrence said, “Congrats,” as I passed him, and I smiled at him and his wife Winter too though she didn’t smile back then almost laughed out loud at how delighted Nadine looked standing next to an obviously frustrated Troy. He must have hoped I’d bail out at the last second and humiliate Owen.

  Not remotely sorry to disappoint him, I carried on down the aisle. Dawn looked delighted too, and dreamy-eyed like she was hoping she’d be next, and Erin smiled at me, but I knew they both doubted my sanity in marrying Owen like this. Well, too bad. This was the only way I’d be able to keep my sanity.

  At the front row, Linda leaned out and said, too loud as always, “Looking good, darling,” and I turned to her and mouthed, “Thanks.” Melissa, standing next to her, and I locked eyes as I did, but she looked away immediately and cuddled in closer to Nicholas. Clearly we wouldn’t be the kind of sisters-in-law who were as close as real sisters.

  Fortunately, that wasn’t why I was marrying Owen. I hadn’t seen my own sister in years and I didn’t need her drama in my life, or Melissa’s either. I needed Owen and I was claiming him now.

  When I’d come to see the wedding chamber I’d walked slowly up its aisle, not down since that felt wrong, to see how long it took me and had then made a version of the Canon that faded out so we wouldn’t have the awkward moment of having to turn off the music, and to my delight I timed it perfectly, arriving at Owen’s side as the last notes died away.

  He smiled at me again, and we both turned to face the officiant. She smiled and began reading the words I’d found online for her to use, and I saw a squirrel wandering by the door beside her and wondered why they’d placed such a convenient escape route at the front of the room. Had any brides or grooms bailed out through that door in the past, like Melissa had run from Owen at their wedding?

  Nobody bailed out this time. The officiant finished her reading then asked Owen to take my hands and repeat after her, and his voice was calm and strong as he said, “I, Owen, take you, Celia, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.” I didn’t know if he knew vows often included something about “to love and to cherish”, but I’d taken that out because I didn’t love him and I knew he didn’t love me and I didn’t want to start our marriage with a lie.

  Another lie.

  Not that I’d really lied about why I wanted to marry him. I’d just kept a reason to myself.

  His vow finished, Owen reached into his pocket. We’d had both my rings resized at the same time, though I’d hated having my engagement ring off my hand because without it none of this seemed quite real, and we gave each other a little smile when he slipped the gold wedding band onto my finger and it fit me just right.

  My turn to repeat the vows, and with Owen holding my hands I didn’t feel anyone’s emotions but my own happiness at securing for myself the safe harbor I needed, although I couldn’t help wondering how Melissa felt watching her former fiancé marry me. But I couldn’t feel how she felt, and that was wonderful.

  When I’d finished my vows I pulled Owen’s ring off my thumb and eased it onto his finger. We’d gone together to pick it out, because I’d insisted he should have something he liked, and its simpleness and heaviness and solidity reminded me of Owen himself.

  “By the power vested in me by the City of Toronto,” the officiant said, smiling at us, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may share a kiss.”

  Everyone clapped, and Owen drew me closer by our joined hands. As we kissed, I made another vow, in my head. I vowed to protect him from his emotions and keep him peaceful and safe. The little flickers of pain I’d seen in him so far? I’d do everything I could to prevent him from experiencing those.

  I knew he’d be happier that way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As we left work on Monday, Owen seemed quiet and distant. I thought maybe he had found the day annoying like I had, with people offering congratulations while exuding feelings of amusement and doubt and confusion about why and how we’d already decided to marry, and so I didn’t push him.

  But once we were sitting in his living room, our living room now since I’d moved in with him on Sunday, with glasses of red wine in front of us as we waited for our frozen lasagna to cook, he sighed and said, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

  Melissa’s attempted warning flashed through my mind. Should I have listened? Well, I hadn’t, so now there was nothing to say but, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  He sighed again. “Troy, the jackass, apparently spent half a meeting today getting Lawrence all worked up. Kelly let me know afterwards. She’s a good one.”

  She did seem to be one, since she’d been friendly to me from my first day at work and still was even though our engagement announcement had bothered her, but that didn’t help me understand. “Worked up about what?”

  Owen stared into his wine as if the answer floated there. “Whether this is a real marriage. Because if it’s not...”

  Then Owen wouldn’t get the promotion, and his only reason for marrying me would be gone.

  “But it is real. We signed the marriage license and had the party after and everything.”

  In lieu of a fancy reception I’d felt sure Owen would hate, I’d booked a private room at Steel for us and our guests. We’d had a lovely dinner, relaxed despite the tension between me and Melissa because Austin kept everyone talking and laughing and flirted outrageously with my friends, and whenever my eyes met my husband’s he smiled or winked at me and I’d known I’d made the right choices for us.

  I’d known even more when we went to the hotel room I’d booked for our first night together and he’d kissed me so long and with so much of what almost felt like tenderness that I’d nearly decided to have sex with him naked instead of putting on the gorgeous silk nightgown I’d bought. I did change clothes, though, because I didn’t want to risk anything going wrong, and we consummated our marriage with much pleasure before finally falling asleep lying close together.

  For the first time ever, I’d been able to drift off to sleep with a man without feeling tense or nervous. As always, when I was with Owen I felt nothing but calm.

  Not that Troy would care about any of that. He was simply trying to sabotage Owen with whatever weapons he could find.

  “It’s legal, yeah,” Owen said, still watching his wine. “But Troy’s got Lawrence worried it’s not real. That you and I aren’t... you know...”

  In love. A true couple.

  Which we weren’t.

  I considered this for a moment. “How do we convince him it’s real?”

  Owen looked up, a smile growing on his face for the first time since we’d met up after work. “You’re okay to do that?”

  “Of course. I want you to get that promotion as much as you do. You deserve it.” He did, too; he worked way harder than Troy and for far less reward.

  Owen reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “Great. So what should we do?”

  We discussed it over our wine and then over our lasagna with more wine, and by the end of the meal we’d decided that the best bet would be for me to call Winter and explain that we’d love to take them out to dinner to thank them for their generous wedding gift.

  It had been generous, although Owen told me that Lawrence always gave a thousand dollars whenever one of his employees married, so I had no issues with thanking them, but the idea of calling that woman terrified me. At our wedding dinner she’d looked at me and Owen like we were fire ants at her picnic, and I couldn’t imagine how I’d manage to sound relaxed and friendly on the phone with her.

  But Owen thought it’d be better for me to do it, since then it wouldn’t be an employee inviting out his boss but two wives arranging a get-together,
and though I hated it I had to agree with him.

  “So you’ll do it?”

  I nodded, and the motion dizzied me. “When I’m a little less full of wine.”

  He laughed, then leaned across the table with a sharp jerk and kissed me hard, sliding his hand into my hair and holding me against him.

  “Wow,” I breathed when he pulled back. We’d never had that sort of fierce passion, and I liked it.

  He laughed again. “Sorry, that was the wine, I guess. But I am grateful. It’s great having you on my side. We’re going to make a good team.”

  “We are,” I said, pushing away my sudden and alcohol-fueled wish that we’d make a good couple instead.

  *****

  “I wouldn’t have wanted to do that.”

  I shook my head. “Me neither, but I had to. Owen needed it.”

  “And she agreed?”

  “Yup.” I shivered without meaning to, remembering the thinly veiled contempt in Winter’s voice when I called. I’d gone over to the park across the road from the condo, wanting to stand next to the calming little pond there so my surroundings would relax me, but a thousand ponds wouldn’t have been able to manage that. No need to be able to pick up emotions; her tone had said it all. She knew why we really wanted to have dinner with them and she thought it was pathetic. “We’re going out next Friday. Can’t wait,” I added, rolling my eyes.

  Dawn laughed, but Erin said, “Then why do it? Why do you have to go through this farce?”

  I frowned at her. “Because Owen deserves the promotion, and if this is what it takes to get it for him it’s not that big a deal. I’m sure I won’t have fun but I’ll survive for an evening.”

  “Of course you will,” Dawn said. “It’s romantic, putting yourself out there to take care of your husband.” She sighed. “Wish I had a husband to take care of.”

  I picked up a hint of sudden determination from Erin, and when I glanced in her direction I knew she was about to push me on whether Owen was truly my husband in the real sense. I didn’t want to let her, so I chose the lesser evil and said to Dawn, “What about Graham? Maybe he could be--”