Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Yes, Cassie asked my brother to play her boyfriend, to win a coveted deal and to make her ex jealous. At the time, she acted as if the latter was a fringe benefit, but I knew it was a primary motive. I nod.
"I think she's the one who's jealous, though. She thinks he still holds a candle for her." Cassie looks to me. "But we should really stick with your news. How's married life?"
"Confusing," I say.
"You seem happier than you did this morning. Or maybe that's the honeymoon sex. No details, please. But no need to deny it either," she says.
"Probably the honeymoon sex, yeah." I motion to the makeup should we?
Cassie nods, sure, and picks a concealer for under my eyes. "Close please."
I close my eyes.
She talks as she applies cream. "Do you want to talk about it?" She dabs cream under my left eye. "Not the sex. The rest of it… anything. I won't judge or freak out, I promise."
I keep my eyes closed. It's easier not looking at her, even though she is close. Too close. There are so many things I haven't said. So many things I need to say. "We talked about it and we're on the same page." I think.
"What page is that?" She finishes with my left eye, then she moves on to shadow.
"We're going to play house for a few weeks. For long enough for him to impress his boss."
"And then?"
My eyes open right as her jaw drops.
"Oh. Of course. Then you start your residency." She presses her palm into her forehead in a duh gesture, then she shakes her head at herself. "It's coming up so fast." She stares into my eyes with equal parts nostalgia and pride. "I'm going to miss you so much. I know you're only in Irvine, but… it's too far. And you'll be working all the time. Shit. I'm a bad friend. I haven't asked enough. Did you find a place near school yet?"
"Not yet." That's true. I haven't found a place in New York yet. I really need to find a place in New York. Because I start in three weeks. And, yes, one of Dad's work friends offered a spare bedroom, but I don't want to live with one of Dad's work friends.
"Do you need any help?" she asks. "We can drive down next weekend. Or anytime next week, really. After we turn in this song on Tuesday, I don't have any deadlines, so I'm flexible."
We can't. Because there's nowhere for me in Orange County. That's not where I'm doing my residency. "I think we're spending the weekend with Jackson's boss."
"And you want a week of wedded bliss. Say no more. Really. No details." She smiles. "Okay. The week after next, I'm yours."
Sure. The week after next, she can help me look online. The week after next, I tell her. I nod. "Perfect."
"So, three weeks of married life, huh?" she asks. "What do you have planned."
"Mostly details you don't want."
She mimes covering her ears. "Damon had the idea to bake and decorate a cake for you."
"He can't bake," I say.
"Or decorate." She nods. "He said you two did it for your parents once. For an anniversary. It was your idea."
"And I did most of it." Not that I can bake. We made a very messy, very imperfect cake, and we left the kitchen a disaster zone. But our parents still loved the gesture. We could do that again. Only the funfetti we used to celebrate Mom and Dad doesn't suit Jackson and me. What would? "Mocha with chocolate frosting. No. Wait. Jackson doesn't really like coffee. What flavors does he like?"
"He likes rich boy flavors. Lemon. Lavender. Orange spice. That kind of thing."
"You know my husband's taste better than I do," I say.
"He's been my brother for my entire life. You'll catch up." She motions for me to close my eyes. When I do, she swipes shadow over them. "Do you really need to remember that? For your three weeks?"
"I guess not."
"It doesn't have to end in three weeks, you know. And I'm not just saying that because I want you to be stuck as my sister, officially."
My eyes blink open.
She meets my gaze. "You both seem happy. Sure, that might be the sex talking, but it wouldn't be so bad if you were happy together. It's not like either of you are going anywhere."
"I have school." I have school three thousand miles away.
"It's not that far," she says. "He could spend weekends with you. Wouldn't it be nice, to have someone to come home to? Someone who can cook and clean and satisfy other needs we don't need to discuss."
It would if things were different. But they're not. There's no sense in wishing they were.
As she finishes, I let myself imagine it. This world where we really are a married couple. Where we support and love each other.