The Closer: A Marriage of Convenience Romantic Comedy

by Kristy Marie

  “No—”

  She holds up her hand. “I can’t fly this far along.”

  Oh. Fuck. “Is that a thing?” How did I not know that?

  Mac laughs. “Yes, it’s a thing.”

  My face must show my stress since Mac comes around the bed and puts her arms around me. “I’ll be fine. Besides, someone has to eat all this food you cooked.”

  “Maybe we could rent a car?” I suggest.

  “Cooper, no. Your bother needs his family as soon as you can get there. I refuse to delay you getting to him and Ainsley.”

  My chest tightens at the thought of Mav driving himself crazy with worry alone in a waiting room.

  “Got the tickets, Coop! Let’s go!” Pops appears in the doorway.

  “Where’s your bag?”

  Pops looks at me weirdly. “I told you I would get the tickets. What have you been doing in here this whole time?” He looks at my open suitcase. “Packing a month’s worth of clothes?”

  Mac laughs. “Come on, old man. I’ll get you a bag.” She plants a kiss on my cheek, and if I’d known it would be the last one I’d receive from her, I would have made it last.

  Pops and I arrived at the hospital just in time to see my brother emerge from the nursery in blue scrubs. “Mom and baby are doing great,” he tells us, his forehead damp with sweat.

  We don’t even congratulate him. “How are you?” Pops asks, examining his oldest grandson with a scrutinizing gaze.

  Mav shrugs. “I kept it together.” He doesn’t deny he had an episode.

  My brother suffers from a heart condition known as supraventricular tachycardia which, more often than not, is brought on by stress.

  Pops grabs Maverick’s arm, putting two fingers on his wrist.

  “Pops,” Mav argues, just as a big body barrels out of the nursery, pointing at Mav.

  “You,” the guy demands, pointing at an empty chair in the waiting room, “come here.”

  Maverick groans. “I already told you I’m fine, Boss. Besides, the old man already crawled up my ass, I don’t have room for two.”

  Pops grunts and I realize, “Boss,” is Maverick’s father-in-law. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. “He looks a lot bigger than I remember,” I tell Mav as Pops drops his wrist, seemingly accepting Mav’s pulse rate.

  “Lexington, you must have thought I fucking asked you.”

  I smother a laugh when my scary older brother’s head drops and his shoulders slump as he drags himself over to his father-in-law and sits like the good little boy he is. “Don’t laugh at him,” Pops scolds, pulling us over as Maverick fills us in on what happened with Ainsley and the baby.

  “The doctor said it was a placental abruption. She started bleeding and—”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Boss interrupts, as Mav begins to break out into a cold sweat. “You hear me? Everything is okay. Ainsley and the baby are fine.”

  I don’t know what happened in the delivery room or what my brother went through, but I do know whatever it was, has Boss keeping a protective hold on my brother—a hold that makes me and Pops feel like terrible family members.

  “Look who wanted to check on her daddy?” Ainsley’s mom emerges from down the hall, a pink bundle wrapped in her arms.

  I look at Pops. “You’re a great-grandfather now. Does that make you feel ancient?”

  Pops’s eyes never leave the little girl who is sucking on a pacifier that takes up the majority of her face. “It makes me feel like smacking my grandchild with the big mouth.”

  Chuckling, I lead Pops to the chair next to Maverick as Ainsley’s mom lowers the baby into my brother’s arms. “Congratulations, Mav, she’s beautiful.”

  Maverick nods, his eyes taking on a glassy appearance.

  “I’m going to check on Ains. Make sure he breathes,” Boss says, clapping me on my shoulder as he passes.

  “Will do.”

  When Ainsley’s parents have disappeared, I take the chair on the other side of Maverick, both me and Pops hovering over the little girl.

  “You gonna tell us her name, son?”

  After a moment, my brother raises his head, tears welling in his eyes as he says, “Her name is Vienna.”

  Pops sucks in a breath. “You named her after your mother.”

  After Pops and I checked on Ainsley, who was more worried about Maverick than herself, we headed to Maverick’s house and commandeered the guest rooms with Pops immediately opting for a nap and me a phone call to my wife.

  “I’m sorry our first Thanksgiving was a shitshow.”

  McKinley sounds tired. “It’s fine. I haven’t had a Thanksgiving in two years, so I didn’t miss it.”

  Her nonchalant tone stuns me. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Obviously, we parted on less than ideal circumstances with talks of relocating back to Georgia. And after being with Maverick, feeling like the shittiest brother in the universe, I’m even more inclined to take Atlanta’s deal. But I can’t do that if Mac won’t come with me.

  “I’m fine, just tired. How’s Pops? Was he excited about seeing his first great-grandchild?” Her voice breaks on the last word.

  “He’s happy to see Mav and boss him around,” I tell her honestly. At least she knows where I get the bossiness. “But he’s probably more excited that Mav named his daughter after our mother—Pops’s daughter.”

  “Oh, wow. What an honor. I’m guessing you guys are going to stay for a while, huh? Help with the baby and all that?”

  My chest tightens, and for some reason, a bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. “I suppose Pops will want to, but I had planned on coming home. I need to start painting before the nursery furniture is delivered.”

  It took nearly the entire pregnancy to convince Mac to let me buy furniture for the nursery. She was insistent she had the money and only needed a few things since the baby will only, “eat, sleep, and poop,” for a while.

  “Oh. Well, I don’t think we need to worry about painting. The tan color already in the guest room is fine.”

  “I don’t mind painting the room, Mac. It’s not like I have a lot going on right now.” Being the off-season, I don’t have daily practices with the team.

  “I know, but…” she pauses, dragging in a breath, “I don’t want to move to Atlanta, Cooper. My home is here in Nevada with… well, it’s just here. I want to raise my baby here.”

  Her baby, not ours.

  “Okay, no big deal. I have other offers—none in Nevada though.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. Look, I’m tired, and I’m sure you are too. Let’s both get some rest and talk about it tomorrow,” she suggests.

  I rake my hands through my hair. No way will I be getting any sleep tonight. “Sure. Sleep well.”

  She mumbles out a quiet, “You too,” before hanging up, leaving me feeling like life just took a shit on the past six months of my marriage.

  Unlike home, Maverick’s kitchen feels empty.

  “What do you need?”

  I whip around from the cabinet and face my brother. “Why aren’t you at the hospital?” Maverick groans, and I notice the shadows under his eyes. “My wife says I’m too stressed being at the hospital, so she and my mother-in-law sent me home for some ‘rest.’” He rolls his eyes, pulling out a container of coffee grounds. “I’m forbidden to come back until morning.” Scoffing, he measures out a few scoops. “Like I’m going to sleep here when my wife and daughter nearly died not even twenty-four hours ago.”

  I take a seat at the kitchen table. Clearly, he’s making enough coffee for both of us. “Where’s your watch?”

  His eyebrow’s arch. “Are you trying to mom me, baby brother?”

  “No.” I chuckle. “I’m just asking a question.” My brother never goes without his watch.

  “It’s in my bag. I had to take it off. Ainsley keeps checking the data.”

  Which means the “data,” aka his heart rhythm, is not good. And the last thing he wants is his wife kn
owing that tidbit of information and stressing even more. “Wives can be a little…” I search for the word.

  “Bit of a pain in the ass?” Maverick supplies with a grin.

  “Well, I was going to say nosy, but I think your term fits better tonight.”

  Maverick hits a button on the coffee pot and pulls out a chair. “What’s going on, Cooper? Why are you up and not asleep? You’ve had a long day. Everything okay at home?” He arches a brow like he already knows things are not okay at home, which is crazy, because for all Maverick knows, my shotgun wedding to Mac was an act of wild love. Apart from a congratulations and an ‘I hope you know what you’re doing’ conversation after the nuptials, Mav and I haven’t discussed anything else about my marriage with McKinley—which I appreciated.

  “Yes.” I sigh, rubbing at the tense muscles in the back of my neck. “No? I don’t know, man. Sometimes I think I understand women, and other times, I feel like I’m trying to remember a password I didn’t create.”

  Maverick chuckles. “Are you saying you’re now locked out for trying too many times?”

  I shake my head. Trying too many times is not the problem. “Atlanta offered me a contract,” I tell him. “But I don’t think McKinley wants to move.”

  Thoughtful, Maverick nods a few times as he gathers his thoughts. “As your older brother, I would love to see you and Pops more often, but I’ll understand if you don’t take the deal. You’re a married man now and have to do what’s best for your family.”

  It’s a sweet sentiment. But what my brother doesn’t know is that said marriage is set to end in three short weeks.

  McKinley

  A week has passed since Pops and Cooper left for Atlanta, which should have left me with a lot of quiet time, but that hasn’t been the case. Instead of taking time to digest the whole moving and contract thing, Cooper has kept my phone and mind busy with tons of pictures of him and baby Vienna. He even sent some of Pops with a big silly grin on his face as he awkwardly cradled the newborn to his chest.

  I miss them terribly. So much that I haven’t been able to sleep without watching the news for hours on end after stuffing pillows under the covers, so it feels like I’m not alone in the bed.

  When did I become a person who didn’t enjoy a whole bed to herself?

  Apparently, when I got used to sleeping next to Cooper and his delicious body heat.

  Why did he have to be a free agent this year? Why not next year? We’ll have been together longer and things won’t be so complicated. I won’t need him as much then. Is it unreasonable that I’m scared Cooper will only stick around until his hero complex wears off?

  Taking a look around the packed living room, I note all the boxes that Cooper just had to order. I told him we only needed a bassinet for the baby, but he insisted on a full nursery. He also insisted he put it together instead of paying extra—which I’ll admit, my cheap heart loved.

  But now when I look at the boxes, all I feel is guilt.

  Guilt that Cooper has called dozens of times to check on me, and has gone above and beyond what’s sane and had dinner delivered to me every evening.

  I don’t deserve him.

  Not like Maverick and Ainsley deserve each other. They deserve to have Pops and Cooper cooing and cuddling their baby until they throw them out for overstaying their welcome. They don’t deserve Cooper’s attention divided between me and them.

  My phone dings, and it’s the second time in the past five minutes.

  All the flights are delayed due to the ice storm. I might rent a car.

  It’s Cooper—again—talking nonsense. No matter how much I tell this stubborn ass that there is no reason for him to come home now, he doesn’t listen, always giving me ridiculous excuses like he’s scared I’ll trip or Pops thinks he left on the iron. Just bullshit for him to have an excuse to come home and corner me alone, so we have to talk about the future and the possibility of moving.

  My fingers fly over the keyboard as I insist, once again, that he wait out the storm and come later in the week, but before I can hit send, a knock comes at the door. With my belly being downright enormous, it takes me a few tries to get up.

  “I’m coming! You don’t have to keep banging. I hear you!”

  If Cooper called in a welfare check, I’m going to beat his ass like it’s never been beaten before. He’s crossing the line now.

  I wrench open the door. “Tell him I’m fin—”

  My mouth snaps closed as I narrow my eyes at the asshole in front of me. “How did you find me?”

  Chris, Griffin’s real brother, and my foster brother, flashes me a smile that is more like a sneer. “Believe it or not, my wife was reading some trashy tabloid and recognized you.” He huffs. “I should have known you’d move on and find another sucker to take care of you.”

  If I wasn’t scared I’d lose my balance, I’d kick him straight in the balls. Instead, I step back and start to shut the door. “Goodbye—”

  He slaps his palm against the door. “As much as I’d like to say I came to see you, I didn’t.”

  Always the sweetheart. “So what do you want?”

  I should have known Chris seeking me out would not be good, especially when he grins, the lines around his mouth looking very Grinch-like. “I came to give you this.” He hands me an envelope that has unused postage still on the front. “I found it while I was cleaning out Griffin’s house—we close next week—thought you should read it.”

  The envelope looks simple enough, but it’s the address that has me asking, “Who’s Sarah?”

  “No one now—thanks to you.” With that, Chris steps back, offering me a glare that translates how much he hates me. “I hope your new husband realizes what a monster he married.”

  “I’m not a monster.” My voice cracks as I fight back the tears welling in my eyes.

  Chris arches his brow. “Oh yeah? Let’s ask Griffin what he thinks? Oh, wait—we can’t because you killed him. You destroy, Mac. You always have. Griffin and I were close until you came to live with Brenda. You tore our family apart—you took everything from me.”

  “I… I’m so—”

  “You’re not sorry. You always get what you want—no matter who’s in your way. You don’t deserve this life.” He steps back and gives the front of the house a once-over. “You don’t deserve a new life when you ended his.”

  I can’t even wait until he pulls out of the driveway before sliding down the doorframe and pulling out the letter, tears streaming down my face, hot and angry.

  Dear Sarah,

  You finally got tired of waiting for me and disconnected your phone. I don’t blame you—I deserve to lose you. After all, I promised when I got Mac settled, I’d come back for you, and I didn’t. Just know I wanted to do it all with you—the sleeping under the stars, bathing in the rivers, living off the land with nothing but each other to fill the time. I wanted it all with you.

  But things at home have changed.

  I made a mistake.

  I have no other excuse than that I missed you so bad it killed me each day when I was away, and I fucked up, Sarah. Really bad. McKinley is pregnant, and no matter how much I regret allowing it to happen, I have to do the right thing. I have to be the father mine never was.

  I’m so sorry, Sarah. If I could go back in time… well, I still would have come home. McKinley needed me, but I should have let you come along and meet her. I should have put you first, and I’m sorry.

  Maybe in another life, we’ll find each other again.

  All my love,

  Griffin

  The letter is dated the night he died. He was going to be a father and give up his love all because I acted irresponsibly and sought his comfort when I should have just handled things on my own.

  If I would have known Griffin was in love, and had his own family, I would have never asked him to come home. I didn’t need Griffin to help me with Brenda. I could have done it. Eventually, I would have gotten better—found a job and a place t
o live. I didn’t have to call him to come home.

  Big, fat tears drip down my cheeks as the guilt of Griffin’s death rises up to choke me. Chris is right; I destroyed our family. Instead of just handling my problems, I let them bleed out and become my entire family’s problems.

  Griffin was happy. He had a life. A girlfriend that he loved. And I made him give it all up because I needed a what? A hug? Someone to hold me through the tears? Someone to tell me it was going to be okay?

  But it wasn’t okay.

  Griffin wasn’t okay.

  Chris wasn’t okay.

  They had escaped their past, and I dragged them back and ruined all of their progress.

  I am a monster.

  But I don’t have to be. I can stop the bleeding. I can protect the ones I love. Pops and Cooper don’t have to go down with my sinking ship.

  With tears in my eyes, I unlock my phone and see several texts from Cooper.

  Pops wants to stay with Maverick a little longer. I’m going to rent a car and come home.

  He’s coming home to make sure I’m okay—which clearly, I’m not. Cooper can’t see me like this. He’ll stay for me just like Griffin did.

  I made this mess, and whether or not it crushes my entire soul, I’m going to fix it.

  Because Cooper deserves a wife who isn’t selfish. One whose belly is stretched with his child. He deserves someone to save him.

  I didn’t save Griffin.

  But I can save Cooper.

  He asked for a sign, and while my fingers tremble across the screen, I stay strong and give him one, texting him the greatest gift I can offer—a way out.

  I want a divorce.

  McKinley

  I moved out of Cooper’s house and back into my old apartment that smells like feet and stale crackers.

  It’s not like I wanted to, but Cooper left me no choice when the neighbor from across the street came over and handed me a napkin with a look of pity in his eyes. “Do you need anything?” he had asked me. I shook my head and took the napkin.