As we approached the table, I tried to ground myself in the reality of the situation, reminding myself why we were here. But every glance from Austin, every brush of his fingers against mine, felt like it was blurring the lines of what was pretend and what was real.
20
charlie
Austin hauled his bags inside, his face still flushed from the laughter and the food we’d all shared. We’d eaten so much I felt like I was going to burst.
“So,” he said, a playful grin on his face, “are you gonna tell me which room in this giant house is mine, or do I get to choose?”
I laughed, shrugging as I started toward the staircase. “You can choose.”
He followed me up the steps, glancing around at the hallway lined with doors. “Alright, then,” he said, pointing toward the far end, as distant from my room as possible. “I’m taking that one.”
“Cool,” I replied, trying to sound casual, but deep down, I felt a small pang of disappointment. Part of me had hoped he’d choose the room next to mine.
He dropped his bags, and I noticed there weren’t many—just a couple of duffels filled with work clothes and his hockey gear. “My stuff’s being delivered next week from my apartment, so for now, this is all I’ve got.”
I nodded, trying to push aside the disappointment. “Make yourself at home.”
He smiled, his eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I thought something flickered in them. “Thanks, roomie.”
“The bathroom is in the hall, but I have my own in the primary.”
“Great. I’ll pay rent on the first?”
I nodded.
Austin had insisted on paying rent, even though I’d told him the house was already paid off. He said I could use it to cover maintenance or any other costs, and I hadn’t felt like arguing during the ride here, so I’d agreed. It felt practical, but somehow the gesture also felt distant—like he was determined to keep things strictly business, which hurt after his vows and the kiss earlier.
“Okay, well . . . I’m going to shower and head to bed, then . . .”
I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but a hollow feeling settled in my chest. This was technically my wedding night, and yet, the reality of it felt so far from anything romantic.
“Same. I’m exhausted.”
“Oh . . . yeah.”
He headed off to the bathroom, and I stood there for a moment, listening to his footsteps echo down the hall. As I walked toward my own room, the loneliness was louder than I’d expected.
“If you need anything, I’ll be in here.”
Stupid. What a fucking stupid thing to say.
I ran inside my room, shut the door behind me, and dropped to the floor. This was going to be so fucking awkward for the next however long it would be until we figured all this shit out.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, trying to push away the ache settling in my chest. Shifting, I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed out a quick thank-you to Jennie for derailing her Saturday plans to stand up in my wedding for me. I hit send and stared at the screen.
Even though Austin was just down the hall, it felt like there were miles between us. I pushed off the wall and stoodup, deciding that maybe a bath would help. A bath would fix everything—or at least, I hoped it would.
A bath did not fix anything. I sat in bed, staring at the ceiling until the clock read past midnight and it was the wee hours of the morning.
I hadn’t heard a sound since Austin’s door closed a few hours ago, so I figured he was probably fast asleep by now. If I went downstairs and made myself a cup of my sleepy-time tea, I’d have a better chance of calming my restless thoughts and actually getting some sleep.
I quietly slipped out of my room and made my way toward the kitchen. I tiptoed down the hallway, moonlight filtering in through the windows. As I reached the kitchen, I pushed open the door, only to scream as I saw a figure standing by the counter, their hood up, face obscured in shadows.
“Who the fuck are you?” I hollered and looked around to see if I could find the closest pointy object.
The figure spun around, and I caught my breath when I realized it was Austin.
