Shay
Students will be able to observe customs and traditions.
On my secondwedding day of the year, I skipped the gown that cost more than most compact cars and required three people to cinch me into it, and went with a hot pink romper.
An adult onesie, as Gennie would say.
It had a cute little cut-out at the small of my back that made it a touch too risqué for teaching yet a-okay for writing names on desk placards, cubby stickers, and take-home folders.
The beaded crab earrings, just kitsch enough to avoid being creepy, brushed the sides of my neck every time I moved. Those earrings screamed louder than anything I owned and they saidnot perfect, not bridal, not a problem.
I put a lot of energy into viewing this as a business arrangement rather than a marriage. I needed that insulation. It was the only way to save myself from spiraling down on memories of my first nuptial attempt. And it wasn’t just the memories. It was the worst-case scenario thoughts too.Had the ex been cheating? Had he always cheated? Was he with that person now? What did they offer that I lacked? What had I done wrong?
Add in the trauma of my life ripping down the middle with an audience of friends and family to gasp in horror, and it was no surprise I’d spelledAidenwrong five times. All the tattoos and dye jobs and binge-drinking in the world couldn’t lift that mess from my memory.
But sitting in that mess wasn’t going to erase it either. The ex was out there living his life. He wasn’t wandering around a tulip farm, cutting his fingers while he tried to put the broken pieces of himself back in an order that made sense for this fresh, new version of his life. I knew that with more certainty than I knew anything else about him.
That was another reason for the crabby earrings. He hated those things. The lobster ones and the koi fish. The octopus too. He hated all my weird and wonderful things, and for a time he’d convinced me I didn’t want them either. Shouldn’t want them.
It left me wondering what else I’d lost along the way. What I’d given up. And why I’d let it happen.
Jaime’s response to this business arrangement was short and direct. “This isn’t a Hallmark movie,” she’d said last night. “You are not allowed to forget about city life because one very fuckable farmer brings you freshly baked bread and offers to save your granny’s land. You will come back to me, doll. They don’t get to keep you.”
“This is temporary.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Trust me,” I said. “I’m coming back.”
She snorted. “Just wait until Daddy Bread Baker gives you his baguette.”
“You did not say that. I refuse to believe you said those words.”
“Was it my finest moment? No. Am I a dinging toaster of anxiety because I have five big-time IEPs and three behavioral 504s in need of hands-on help? Yes. If this week doesn’t end with another teaching assistant being hired, I’m gonna burn something.”
“What do you mean, five IEPs? I had three and you knew each of those kiddos.”
“Those three aren’t on my roster. Julius’s family moved, Gray’s got him into a program for sensory kids, and Madgalily’s decided to homeschool. So, I have five new friends.”
“Oh, wow. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before I dumped my drama on you.”
“As if I wouldn’t have called a time-out and told you I needed us to prioritizemydrama? No, doll, I’m good. I haven’t been to therapy in three weeks and I’m out of laundry detergent so I’m just wearing bike shorts under dresses which isn’t a problem but I feel like I’m crossing into questionable new territory of not wearing underwear here. It’s possible I’m never going back. And I’m just ranty. It’s fine.” She heaved out a sigh. “It’s fine. You’re getting married! Sort of. That’s fun, right?”
“It’s a lot of fun,” I replied. Part of me wanted to get in the car and deliver detergent to her apartment and promise everything would be all right with her class. Better than all right. Awesome, like it always was. The other part knew I had to stay here. I had to do this thing, this giant crazy thing where I grabbed the ripped fabric of my life and knotted it into some new creation that I wouldn’t recognize until it was done. “And the odds are high my groom will show up this time. He wants me for my land, after all.”
“More than your land.”
I shook my head. “Not much more.”
I couldn’t nail Noah down. His thoughts hid behind a stone wall and I had yet to find the drawbridge. For every shoulder caress and every glance at my mouth, there was prolonged silence and stomping away from me with a grumble. If he wanted anything more than another business to add to his Friendship empire—and the occasional fake girlfriend—he did an excellent job of hiding it.
“Hey, so, do you want to hear about some real drama? Because there was a whole big thing at this poly meetup munch I went to the other night instead of going to therapy, like I should have.”
“Definitely, yes, but I have to move first. My ass falls asleep whenever I sit on the floor too long.”
“Get comfortable. It’s an involved story. And maybe your new husband will buy you some furniture so you don’t have to sit on the floor all the time.”
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