Wren isn’t a bad cook, but she does get distracted. I’m rather fond of my apartment, and I don’t fancy watching her burn it to the ground.
While I make cherry pancakes—one of my favourite breakfasts in Vegas—I steal glances at Wren as she concentrates extra hard on making coffee. She obviously has no issues with making drinks; what she’s doing is overthinking. Perhaps about being here. We’ve arranged appointments to get the divorce sorted; that’s all we had to do. She’s stressing over staying here.
Should she stay? Does it mean anything that we’re having breakfast?
No. I’m hungry, she’s hungry, and that’s it.
But I get it because I’ve never cooked for her before; not alone, anyway. It’s weird but familiar, having her here while I cook for us. It’s like she belongs.
“I can see the cogs turning,” I say as she stirs the living shit out of the coffee.
“Huh?” When she looks up with a frown, her shoulders sag. “Oh.”
“It’s just breakfast.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
She puts the spoon in the dishwasher and sighs. “I’m struggling with knowing how to behave.”
“Like normal.”
“But this isn’t normal. Taking the marriage and divorce out of the picture, we’ve never cooked together, alone, in your apartment.”
Okay, I’ll give her that.
“We haven’t. Not that you’re going to do any cooking.”
“I can barely look my parents in the eye,” she admits. “Every time they mention Vegas, I think they’re going to guess.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “I can guarantee you, they won’t guess.”
“No, they obviously won’t. No one thinks you will settle down.”
I flip a pancake as thin as a crepe and raise my eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because you’ve never been interested in a relationship.”
“Not yet,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I want to be single forever.”
“I assumed you’d get a bunch of snakes or bearded dragons.”
“Well, thanks for that.”
“You still could. Soon, you’ll be single in the eyes of the law.”
“I’ll get down to the pet shop,” I mutter dryly.
“That’s the spirit.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, no one thinks I’m going to die alone. Someone will find my body the day I pass.”
I toss the pancake on a plate and add more mixture to the pan. “So, not only am I dying alone, but I’m also not going to be found until a neighbour notices the smell? Why do you, Luke, and my siblings never check up on me and the reptiles?”
“We have our own lives, Brody.”
“Okay, this conversation is strange.” But her smile is easy, and her eyes are light.
We eat pancakes around the kitchen table like civilised people. I normally eat on the sofa in front of the TV.
“When do you go back to work?” she asks, cutting a chunk of pancake.
“Monday. I have a couple days left.” I need it. Jet lag and a marriage are exhausting. “How about you? Found anything yet?”
She scrunches her nose. “Nope. I’m volunteering all week at the dog shelter, though.”
After her A-levels, Wren decided not to go on to university. But it’s proving more difficult to get a job, so she does some admin for her dad’s maintenance company and volunteers at the local dog rescue centre while she applies for every suitable position.
“You just want to play with puppies all week.”
Her smile widens. “Yeah, I do! We had a pregnant bitch left with us two weeks ago, and I’m desperate for her to have those puppies.” She frowns. “Though we’re not sure if the puppies will be crossed or thoroughbred. The owner left no details about what dog got her pregnant, but she seems healthy—an adorable golden lab.”
“You know your dad isn’t going to let you have one, right?”
Frowning, she slides her eyes to mine. “Will my husband let me have one at his apartment?”
My heart pumps harder. “Nice one, Wren.”
“Is that a no?”
“Even if I wanted a dog, I’m not allowed one in the building.”
“You own the apartment.”
“It was in the contract.”
There are all sorts of conditions because the building is owned by some super-fucking rich dude who is determined to rule the upmarket apartment developments. I knew about it early because the company I work for was involved.
She shakes her head. “How can you live here knowing you’ll never be allowed a pet?”
“This isn’t permanent. I don’t plan on settling down here.”
“Good, because I’m sure reptiles fall in the animal category.”
I narrow my eyes.
Twenty-Four
Wren
I leave Brody’s an hour and twenty minutes after we sorted appointments.
That was unnecessary… but kind of nice. I like that we’re not blaming each other. I want to be around him still, and I want to continue being friends. It feels good to have a relationship with him.
I dare say, we’re closer than before. The Brody I’ve seen over the last week, I’ve really liked. Not that I’m glad we got married or anything, but at least something good has come out of it.
I wonder if he feels the same or if he’s just being polite because we need to fix our fuckup.
Yeah, let’s not obsess over that one.
I twist the key in the front door, and Emma turns her whole body towards me.
Great.
“How was it?” she asks.
“Shh!”
“No one is here. Mum and Dad are shopping, much to his disgust. It’s just you and me. I’ll put the kettle on and you can fill me in.”
“Sounds fun,” I mutter. I can’t wait for her to move out next month.
“There is no need for sarcasm, Wren,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks into the kitchen.
I’m supposed to follow. I could easily run upstairs and lock myself in my room. She’d only join me.
Emma fills the kettle.
“Are we doing coffee? I could go for a beer.”
Her body stills, but her head twists in my direction. “Did it go badly?”
“No. Brody was great. I mean, it was kind of weird, but he made it super easy. We have appointments next week with different lawyers. It’s not something I ever thought I would be doing—certainly not at eighteen.”
I sit at the kitchen table while she makes our drinks, continuing with coffee—so I guess we’re really not day-drinking. Though I did just tell Brody that’s not cool now.
“It’s not something I would have thought my little sister would be dealing with either. I didn’t even know you and Brody were close enough to be drinking alone together.”
“We’re not. That’s the thing. He only stayed with me that night because he was worried I would get myself into trouble.” I roll my eyes at the irony. “He didn’t like the guy I’d met.”
“You didn’t go off with this guy, did you?”
The spoon clinks against the mug as she stirs the coffee, milk, and boiling water together. Emma makes coffee properly just like I do.
“No, I met him in the pool and the bar. Not once were we alone, but Brody was being overprotective.” Much like Mason and Luke would have been if they’d found out I’d met a guy. “I just wish I’d never suggested going out. We spent a fortune on tequila.”
“I don’t think that’s the most expensive thing from that night.”
“Probably not.” Though a Vegas wedding doesn’t cost that much at all. “Thanks,” I say, taking the mug from her.
“How are you feeling about it?”
Emma is all into talking it out. She thoroughly believes that you can solve half of your problem if you open up and tell someone.
“It’s hard to know. I feel dumb mostly. I can’t believe we thought it would
be a good idea. Our only option is divorce, which leaves a big mark on your name forever. That’s the part I’m struggling with most. Brody seems to be taking it in stride, as if this sort of thing happens all the time.”
“You don’t think he’s panicking?”
Brody can overreact and get angry but in serious situations, he’s calm and in control. During my nan’s illness and death, the Harris family was so supportive. Brody especially.
“He probably is, he’s just not showing it to me. Honestly, Emma, he’s been amazing.”
“Despite his behaviour sometimes, he is a good guy, and he looks after the people he cares about. Knowing this is stressing you out must be difficult for him.”
I wince and take a sip of my coffee. “I don’t think I’ve been very fair to him. It’s all been about me and how I’m handling it. Do you think he’s having a hard time and just not saying? We’re in this together. I want to be there for him.”
“Who knows, Wren? If he is struggling, he’s not going to tell you.”
“Well, great.”
“Have you thought any more about telling Mum and Dad? I know you both want to keep it a secret forever, but I don’t think that’s realistic.”
“I didn’t say forever. I’m fine if they know when I’m a lot older.”
“Wren…”
“Do you think I could tell them and it not change the dynamic between us and the Harrises?”
She chews on her lip for a second. “Maybe. We’ve come through a few storms before.”
“Yes, but the Harris son has never married and divorced the Clark daughter before. If our parents are able to deal with it and keep their friendship separate, there is no guarantee Luke will. He and Brody have been friends forever, Emma. How do I risk screwing with that over one mistake?”
“I understand what you’re saying—I really do—but if they find out on their own, they will be a lot angrier. Luke and Brody’s friendship is strong, but a lie will have a much bigger impact.”
Groaning, I put my mug down and my head in my hands. “Why is this so hard? I don’t know what’s best.” I peek up at her. “I want to do whatever will hurt people the least.”
“Wren, if you want to do that, be honest.”
I sit up. “That’s not a decision I can make on my own. I already told you and Felicity after I agreed with Brody to keep it quiet.”
“When are you next seeing Brody?”
“At the weekend for the barbecue, I suppose.”
“Do you think you should have a conversation before that?”
“Even if Brody was open to telling our parents, I wouldn’t do it at a family barbecue and ruin a birthday. I’ll have a think about it and speak to him later if I want to. I see where you’re coming from, but there is no guarantee anyone will find out. If we can avoid a war, that would be great.”
Emma tilts her head to the side, her blue eyes glossing. It’s the look she gets when she thinks someone is making a mistake by not listening to her.
Maybe I am, but it’s my mistake. Mine and Brody’s. We have to handle this the way that we feel is best.
“How are you feeling about the other thing?” she asks.
“What other thing?” Is there another thing? I don’t think I can handle it if there is.
“About sleeping with him. No awkwardness? No one wants a repeat?”
If I said I didn’t want to go there again, I would be a big, fat liar. However, not a good idea.
Brody has expressed the desire for a repeat.
I shrug. “I don’t know where his head’s at, but I know it wouldn’t be smart.”
“It definitely wouldn’t be smart, but do you want to?”
“You’re such a gossip.”
Laughing, she lifts her mug to her lips. “It’s my guilty pleasure, and I’m not going to apologise. You haven’t answered my question.”
“Okay… look, it was good with Brody. Like, insanely good. But I think everyone can agree that it shouldn’t happen again.” Every time I think about it, my legs weaken.
“Do you have feelings for him?”
“No, not like that.” Which sounds incredibly weird since I married the guy. “We’re new friends who accidentally got married and had sex.”
Emma shakes her head. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I was merely giving you a recap.”
“You sound so casual about it.”
“I have to be, Em. As of right now, there is nothing we can do. We’ve taken the first step. Since the horrible witch said no annulment.”
Scoffing, Emma straightens her back. “I wish you’d let me come with you to get that.”
“Why? She couldn’t process it, and we couldn’t admit that we were drunk and unable to make an informed decision. Brody had been drinking with me for a few hours. I was a minor over there.”
Perhaps nothing would have happened if we’d come clean and I’d admitted to underage drinking, but the risk was too great. I was scared for him and for myself.
“It’s just so unfair. I bet if you were rich or a celebrity, they would have let you.”
“Brody said the same. I’m neither, so there is no point in agonising over it.”
To be honest, I try not to think of the annulment option at all. Knowing there was something that could erase this mistake but we can’t have it drives me insane. Instead, we have to settle for that white correction liquid—you know, so you can’t see what has been erased, but the evidence of a fuckup remains.
“Please think about telling Mum and Dad.”
I give her a half-smile. “I will think about it.”
Emma will push this because she wholeheartedly thinks it’s the right thing to do. I can’t say that I disagree with her completely, but she’s not the one about to unleash a tornado on our harmonious family life.
Twenty-Five
Brody
It’s Dad’s fifty-fifth birthday, and all he wanted was to have a barbecue with his family and closest friends.
I’m starting to think that’s the way to do a birthday. I got a little more than planned when I went all out to Vegas.
I stare at their front door with a bottle of his favourite whiskey in one hand, and a card and voucher for a helicopter experience day in the other. He’s always wanted to fly one, and that’s what he’s going to do. Felicity thinks I’m going to get him killed, but it’s not like they send him up alone. He only takes over the controls for a little while. She’s dramatic.
That’s not the only thing my sister is dramatic about. She’s been texting me multiple times a day, wanting updates on my divorce from Wren. There is nothing to report. I have my first appointment with the lawyer next week. Until then, all I can do is wait and pretend.
Felicity isn’t known for her patience. She would lose her head if she were in my position.
I want this over as much as everyone else, but I’m not going to stress over something I have no control over. It will only go as fast as agreements being drawn up and papers being signed and filed. At least I’m trying to keep my cool.
I walk through the open-plan kitchen and make my way outside where I hear many different voices echoing into the house.
Mum goes all out for parties. She decorates as if she were getting paid per fairy light. Although, that’s not what I notice first.
Wren is in her little white sundress. The one I married her in.
My muscles lock into place.
Why would she wear that?
Why wouldn’t she? It’s not like it’s a wedding dress or that she actually wanted to marry me. No, this is just a dress she likes.
It’s a dress I like, too.
Clearing my throat, I sidestep, dodging her walking my way, and shove my gifts at my dad. “Happy birthday, old man.”
“Less of the old man!” He raises the presents. “Thank you. Help yourself to beer. You are staying the night, aren’t you?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m here to c
elebrate with you properly.”
“In that case, let’s crack open the whiskey.”
With Wren wearing that dress, I’ll definitely need something stronger than beer.
“I’ll grab some glasses,” I tell him.
I turn around, and Wren is gone. Emma and Felicity watch me from the patio table where Mum is pouring some cocktail from a punch bowl into martini glasses with a ladle.
With a quick, “Hey,” to Luke, I duck back into the kitchen.
I feel like shit every time I look at him. We have a rule, an unwritten rule—you don’t go for a mate’s sister. Can’t say I would be jumping for joy if he slept with Felicity.
Not that Fliss is dumb enough to shag him.
Inside is not my salvation.
Wren turns around, her soft blonde hair falling against her back.
She smiles. “Hey.”
I swallow a mouthful of fucking sand. “Hey,” I rasp. “You okay?”
We have texted every day, except yesterday. Maybe she didn’t have anything to tell me. I couldn’t think of anything to tell her.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“You’re wearing the dress,” I say. Oh God. Cringing, I grab two whiskey glasses and shake my head. “Forget I said that.”
“The dress?” She looks down. “This dress?”
Come on, Wren.
Crystal-blue eyes widen. “Ah! I didn’t think. Oh crap, this is so embarrassing. I should have burned the dress or something.”
“No need to overreact. I just wasn’t expecting you to wear it.”
“I put it on without thinking. To be honest, I wasn’t all that focused on what I was wearing that night.”
“It’s fine.”
“Should I go home and change?”
I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t think that would be weird?”
“I could spill something on it.” She picks up raspberry syrup. Probably what’s in the cocktail outside.
With an ache in my heart, I lurch forward and grab the bottle from her. “No, don’t do that. It’s an item of clothing, Wren, nothing more.”
Truth is, I don’t want the dress ruined. I’m a fan of it—of the way she looks in it. Of the way it slides off her body.
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