But everything about this feels wrong.
I’ve been fighting my whole adult life against marriages like this. Transactional marriages that treat relationships like a commodity. Marriages based on what other people want and expect. Based on ulterior motives beyond love. Just because I didn’t want to get married doesn’t mean I‘ve never pictured it in my head. Just like every other little girl, I had a fantasy of what this day would be like. Putting on a dress just as beautiful as this one. I imagined a husband waiting for me at the end of the aisle with a look in his eyes making me feel as though I’m the most important person in the world. I pictured him shedding a few small tears as I made my way down the aisle toward him. Having to remind myself to slow down and not run toward him.
None of those things will happen tomorrow. Yes, I’ll be wearing the dress, and I’ll be heading toward a man who cares about me. But tomorrow has nothing to do with me at all. The day has been planned around Jordan making his father’s last days on Earth peaceful and keeping my ass out of lock up. Call me dumb, but a wedding should be about the love between the two people getting married. Not the forces pushing them into it.
I feel a small splash on my hand, then another and another. I look down to see the tears pooling there. I glance back to the strange woman in the mirror and see the streams of tears running down her face. I see a woman who is not happy at all. A woman who knows no matter how unhappy she is, she can’t back down from the promise.
Claustrophobia sets in, and I have to fight back the desire to rip the dress from my body. It takes me a few minutes before I’m able to get the buttons undone without destroying it. Jumping out of the dress the moment it pools around my feet, I grab my robe and climb into my bed letting the sobs rip from my chest.
I lie there staring at the pictures still hanging on the wall. Photos of a girl I used to be. A girl who has been missing. A girl who after tomorrow will probably be lost forever. My sobs turn to wails and my last thought as I fade into a very fitful sleep is, what have I done?
Alex
The blaring sound of my cell phone startles me from the restless sleep I’m in. Instinctively, I sit up and stare at the clock, thinking I must’ve overslept for work. The sound coming from my phone is not my alarm. But the clock reads nine am. When I get my bearings, I realize it's Saturday, and I’m not due to work for a few more hours.
Before I can even get my feet over the side of the bed, the ringing ensues again. I scoop my phone from the nightstand and see Ashley’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hello?” I groan into the phone, trying to shake the gravel from my voice. Having all those beers last night wasn’t the best idea. But how else was I to drown my sorrows? The woman I love is marrying someone else today. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since I stormed out of her apartment after I laid it all out there, and she did nothing. It’s not an easy pill to swallow. If this was the off-season, I would’ve drunk myself into a coma last night, so I didn’t have to deal with today at all.
“You haven’t by chance spoken to Quinn last night or this morning, have you?” she asks, her voice filled with emotion I can’t pinpoint until my brain starts to fully function.
“No, why?” I reply trying to shake the slight hangover I have out of my head so I can think clearly.
“She was supposed to meet me at the house half an hour ago so we could head to the hotel together, but she’s not here and she’s not answering her phone. I’m worried about her.” I can hear the concern in her voice, and it’s all I need to shake me out of this haze.
“I haven’t heard from her since I went to her house two weeks ago. How would I know where she is? Have you tried Jordan?” I ask.
“No. I don’t want to worry him just yet. That’s the last thing this wedding needs,” she sighs.
“Where did she spend the night last night? Her place?”
“Yes,” Ashley confirms. “She said she wanted to be alone in her own bedroom for the last time.”
That doesn’t sound like something a bride-to-be should be saying the night before her wedding. I can see a guy saying that, but aren’t women supposed to be happy and looking toward the future the night before the big day? Especially one who keeps telling everyone to trust her and she knows what she’s doing.
“Do you think you can do me a favor and go over there and check on her? It will only take you ten minutes opposed to my forty-five.”
I think to myself a moment before answering. “I don’t know, Ash. I’m already dealing with the fact she’s marrying someone else. I don’t know if I can handle seeing her or being the one who pushes her in the car to do it.”
I’d love to help Ashley, I would, but this is a lot for me. I’ve been preparing myself for this day for the last few weeks. I’ve planned the day all out to keep myself busy. I’m heading to the stadium in a little bit to go over some injury updates for tomorrow’s game. I have some players’ charts to update and go over. Tiffany then decided we need to spend the night with take-out and beer while watching action flicks with no romantic notions about them whatsoever. The last thing I need is to actually see her hours before she marries this guy.
I’ve spent the last week wondering if there ever was anything real between Quinn and me. I haven’t been able to get the look on her face when I confronted her out of my head. She didn’t bat an eyelash when she waved her ring in my face claiming she isn’t afraid of commitment.
Maybe she isn’t. Maybe it was just me she was never interested in committing to. I’m starting to think that I took the thing between us wrong. It’s possible she’s right, and I’ve built the thing up so high in my mind that I was always destined to break when I fell. I let her go on thinking I was good with whatever she wanted. That was my angle. I was always too afraid to push her for more, that I never did. How was she supposed to know I wanted more?
Jordan must’ve pushed her for more, and I guess that’s what she needed. That’s where I went wrong. It let us become complacent.
What else was she supposed to think?
I think I’ve managed to fare pretty well thus far. Today’s going to be hard for me, but at least I got some kind of closure. I know why she left me. I’ll be able to pull myself up and out of this. Time will help. I still love her, regardless. I think a part of me always will, but I need to move on. Going to Quinn’s the day she’s supposed to marry someone else will be counterproductive to the acceptance I’ve been working on.
“I think she’s having second thoughts. I don’t know for sure, but this isn’t like Quinn. Something is wrong. I can feel it. She’ll be more open with you than she will with me,” she pleads into the phone. I can hear the worry in her voice, but I just don’t know if I can do it.
“If she’s having second thoughts, it should be you who speaks to her not me. I’m in love with the woman. If I go there, my instinct is going to be to talk her out of this, and then I’ll be the guy who pushed her to walk out on her fiancé the day of their wedding. I don’t want to be that guy, Ashley. I don’t want to be the one she resents when the dust settles. I don’t think I can handle it on top of every other bad thing she thinks about me.” I’m already the person who defends cheaters to her. I’m already the guy whose heart she wrecked. What happens if I go there, and she’s just running late? It would be like pouring salt into my wounds.
“Alex, if she’s having second thoughts, the only person who can help her through it is you. You’ve always been the one to get through her walls. She’ll talk to you,” Ashley counters.
Lying back down in my bed, I rub my temples. “I never got through her walls. I never broke them down, or I would be the one she’s marrying. I’m the guy who handed her the reason to run, and she never looked back. Jordan broke through her walls. If anyone can talk to her, it’s him. Not me.” Why does everyone think I can stop her from doing this? How can they not see this is tearing me apart?
“This is the last chance you may have to get your girl back. I know how scared you are rig
ht now. I’ve been in your shoes. Sometimes you have to take a risk. You have to fight,” she lectures me. Her voice more stern and driven. She’s not going to let this go.
“We all have to do hard things for the people we love, Alex. The question you need to ask yourself is if you can live with not trying one last time. Will you be okay with looking in the mirror knowing you may have had one last chance to get your girl back but didn’t take it?”
Fuck, she went with the low blow. But she has a point. Can I look at myself day in and day out wondering if I may have had the ability to change the way this plays out?
Quinn
I find myself sitting in much the same state I was in last night. Staring at my wedding dress. Except now it’s in the puddle on the floor where I left it after getting out of it as fast as I could.
I didn’t sleep well at all last night. I remember falling asleep looking at the photos on my bedroom wall. Ashley and I on her wedding day. Michaela in my arms the day she was born. Tanner, Ashley, and I the day Alex declared her one hundred percent from the injuries of the accident. That wall used to contain a lot more pictures. Pictures I couldn’t bear to look at when Alex left.
It hurt to see him. I left him and then he was gone. He followed his dream and went to Arizona. It just goes to show we were both holding each other back. If I didn’t end things that night, he could’ve missed his opportunity. There’s a chance he may not have taken it, and I’m glad I wasn’t a factor in him taking the job. And now I’m going to be taking over the company soon. It was better for both of us.
It still fucking hurt, even though I knew he had the potential to ruin me if he was the person I thought he was. I know I told him I didn’t love him, but deep down I did. Regardless, there was no way I could handle the fallout if things went south. I don’t know what I believe anymore when it comes to him. I saw his reaction when I told him the truth about leaving. I don’t think any man would fight that hard if he didn’t really care or wasn’t faithful. But nothing I can do about it now.
It dawned on me around four am while I was tossing and turning that I don’t have any pictures of Jordan and me on the wall. What does it say when I don’t have any pictures up of the man I’m marrying today? What does it mean when the only pictures we have together are the ones we had taken for the engagement announcement in the paper? The realization of just how fake this whole thing is hit me like a fucking Mack truck. I barely made it to the bathroom before I puked my guts up. I’ve become the woman I’ve always promised myself I wouldn’t be and it makes me sick.
There’s this fog hanging over me I can’t see my way through. I don’t know which way to turn. I’m terrified that no matter which way I turn, I’ll walk off the edge of a cliff.
A loud bang startles me. I look at the clock and realize it's almost ten. It’s probably Ashley since I was supposed to be at her house over an hour ago. We’re expected to be on our way to the hotel, but I haven’t been able to force myself from this bed.
Having no choice, I drag myself from the spot on my bed I’ve been glued to for hours and trudge my way to the front door.
The door opens before I even get to it and I gasp at the sight of Alex standing before me. “How’d you get in here?” I ask.
“The door was unlocked,” he answers softly. A look of concern written on his face.
“Oh,” I whisper, glad nothing crazy happened last night since apparently anyone could’ve walked right into my house. I guess my mind’s more scattered than I thought. I’m always very vigilant about things such as locked doors. I’m a good-looking woman who lives alone. Anything can happen.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, remembering I was expecting Ashley and not Alex.
“Ashley called me when you didn’t show at her house. She’s worried about you, and since I was closer to you than her, she asked me to come,” he explains as he closes the door slowly and cautiously. I know he can sense the inner turmoil festering inside me. He’s always been able to read the things I wasn’t able to say.
But I don’t understand one thing about him being here. “Why would you come? Why do you even care if I make it to the wedding?” I know how he feels about today. He made it very clear to me the last time I saw him.
“Quinn,” he sighs. I can see the sadness in his eyes. There’s no gold glow in them. I loved that gold glow. “Regardless of how things have played out between us, all I want is for you to be happy. If you’re happy, then that’s all that matters to me. I wish I was the guy who was able to make you happy, but I’m not. So tell me, what’s going on?”
Gawking at him, frozen by the compassion this amazing man holds for me. “I don’t know what’s going on,” I finally say when I find my voice.
Alex takes a few tentative steps toward me and gestures to the couch before he walks around me to sit down. “Come on, sit. Talk to me. Start from the beginning.”
I take a deep breath and begin explaining most of the events leading up to today. “So now I’m sitting here not sure if this is really the best move for me, but I don’t have a choice in the matter. I never have. But there’s some good coming out of this whole mess too. I’m not the only person who needs today to happen. If I don’t marry Jordan today, I’ll be letting him down. I don’t want to let him down, but I also don’t want to let myself down.”
“Angel…” he sighs, but I have to interrupt.
“Please,” I beg. “Please don’t call me that, not today.”
“Okay,” he says with a tiny flicker of sadness in his eyes. “You love Jordan. That much is obvious. But what you need to ask yourself is if you love him more than you love yourself. Do you love him enough to live this lie? You have been terrified of letting someone change the person you are. You have changed. And that’s okay if you like the person you’ve become. Do you like the person you are today, Quinn?”
“I do love Jordan. But I love him like I love Tanner. I love him the way I imagine I would love a brother if I had one. I love him enough not to want to hurt him,” I confess while avoiding the topic of liking myself right now. I don’t like myself. My father has made me his puppet. He pulls the strings. My life isn’t my own anymore unless I want my life to be confined to a six by nine cell. Even if my father decides not to fuck me over, he’s still fucking me over. If I don’t do this today, I’ll always be waiting for that phone call asking me to come in for questioning. The day may come or it might not, but the threat will always be there. It’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. But it doesn’t necessarily have to explode to wreak havoc on my life. It already is.
I’m so fucking tired of keeping all this inside. I wish I could tell Alex the truth, but I can’t. Telling anyone about what my father plans to do if I don’t do what he wants increases the chances everything will blow up in my face. There’s just too much at stake.
“But look at you,” he comments, running his finger down my cheek. “Your eyes are red and swollen. You’ve obviously been crying. I’m sure you didn’t get much sleep last night. Do you love him enough to live the rest of your life accepting the decision you make today? I’m not talking about staying in the marriage. Divorces are always possible. I’m talking about the possibility of meeting someone someday that you actually want to marry. Can you live with that person not being the only person you’ve made this promise to?
“I know you’ve probably covered all the financial aspects of everything but what about all the other real life things like sickness and accidents? As your husband, he would make important decisions for you and vice versa. What happens if you were in an accident like Ashley’s? Would you trust Jordan to stay by your side? What if you got sick? Would Jordan stay and care for you? Could you make a life or death decision for him? Would you be able to stay if something life changing happened to him? What happens if the company goes bankrupt? Can you work through that? Can you stand by each other under the pressure of something bad? These are important things you need to think about.”
I don’t say
anything. I sit there and try to picture my life if I take this step today and marry Jordan knowing I have no romantic feeling for him. Is this fair to me? Is this fair to Jordan? What happens to me if he meets someone he wants to marry? Am I going to be okay with him coming home smelling like another woman? Can I do all of the things that Alex just mentioned? I’d like to think yes, but the truth is I think Jordan and I have taken this thing way too lightly. He could get hit by a bus tomorrow and be paralyzed. Cancer runs in his family. What if Jordan gets sick while we’re together? I love him, but I love him in a platonic way. I stuck by Ashley no problem, but I wasn’t married to her.
I love him. I do. We get along well, and we have a lot in common. He seems to understand me as a person, which I know isn’t an easy feat. But how do I find out if I'm making the right—or wrong—decision? Either way, either decision has repercussions of its own.
I wish all the things Alex just brought up were the only things I had to consider. It would be so much easier. No, I wouldn’t marry him. But it's not that easy. If I marry him, I’ll have everything I’ve been waiting for. My company and my father gone. But what will be left of me after? And if I don’t do this, there’s the very real possibility my father screws me over, and again, what will be left of me after? There’s no way to know for sure, but I know he’s capable of it. It’s a big fucking risk.
Alex’s voice breaks me from my haze. “Can you see yourself with him in forty years? Is he going to be there to tell you you’re beautiful even with age? Is he going to treasure you like you deserve to be treasured? It’s not a prom date, Quinn. It’s marriage. Answer this one question … Do you love him enough to go to his house and tell him if he truly loves someone else, he should marry her? Do you love him enough to beg him to not marry that person if he doesn’t?”
Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1) Page 26