“You wouldn’t?—”
“I want to, Aston. If that means you need me to live here a while longer or have regular hangouts with her, then I’ll do it. I want to be a stable entity in Zoey’s life. The marriage part of this is more for me, and you know it.”
I shift my weight and put my hands on my hips. She’s right about the marriage being more for her than for me. But if it doesn’t work out with the baby, she’s offering to be part of Zoey’s life regardless, and I need to honor my part of this too.
“I’m going to tell people that I moved back here for you,” I say, thinking this through more. “At work, I mean. That we’d had a thing a couple of years ago that rekindled after you left Josh and we fell in love. That’s why I moved into this house with Zoey, and that’s why we’re married.”
“Will this impact your job?”
“No. How can it? It won’t impact either of ours. Yes, we work together, but that’s hardly a new thing, and I don’t supervise or evaluate your work. At the hospital, we’ll be professional.” My lips bounce. “But you can’t be antagonistic toward me anymore. In fact, you can’t hate me. At least not in public.”
“But in private I still can, right?” She laughs, her head falling to the top of the cushion, and she stares up at the ceiling. “Holy shit. This is so crazy. Remind me why you’re doing this again?”
It’s a serious question. Yes, I want her in Zoey’s life, and yes, that’s what I get out of this, but I don’t have to be married to Skylar to push that piece of our arrangement.
“Because telling Josh you and I are dating or even engaged wouldn’t be enough, and you know it. Not for men like him. As you said, marriage is legal and binding.”
Her chin falls, and she meets my steady gaze. “You’re willing to do this for me? Tomarryme? To become my lawfully wedded husband, even if it’s fake?”
Am I? Fuck. But despite the fierce pounding of my heart and the unease churning in my gut, something else, something stronger than my physical reaction, is having me say a resounding “Yes” like no decision I’ve ever made before has been more right.
I’m not going to analyze that. I’m helping her and she needs it, and so does Zoey, and I’m positive that’s the source of why I’m suddenly trembling, but not from nerves or second thoughts. It’s almost as if… I’m excited. But that can’t be.
“Thank you. That’s… I don’t even have words for what that is.”
“Mutually beneficial,” I offer because that’s what this is. A contract. An agreement.
“Yes. You’re right. Um.” She licks her lips and brushes her hair back from her face. “I’m going to go to bed and think more about everything. I think you should do the same, and in the morning, we’ll make the final call and work out more of the logistics if we decide to move forward.”
I nod because I don’t have words. I already know if she tells me she needs this, I’ll do it. I won’t hesitate. After all, I offered it, but more than that, we’re talking about her safety and the safety of an unborn child, and I won’t risk either.
Instead, I leave her here and go upstairs to Micha’s bedroomand shut the door behind me. I blow out the breath I was holding and go straight for the bathroom, my hands planting onto the counter and my head slowly rolling up to find my reflection.
I just asked Skylar Davenport to marry me. And she said yes.
I’m going to marry her. So why am I not freaking out the way I should be?
I can’t sleep.I imagine that’s no surprise to anyone. I hardly even spend time in my bed. I pace my room and walk the hall outside her bedroom, debating if I should go in and tell her I was crazy. Because something gruesome dawned on me last night.
Not only will I be married to Skylar, but she’ll technically become Zoey’s stepmother. When this thing ends, what will happen to that relationship? Am I setting Zoey up for more heartache and pain in order to bring her happiness and stability now? Plus, Skylar will have her own child. Her own family. She’ll move on from us and leave Zoey behind. Not because she’s cruel or uncaring, but because Zoey won’t be her priority. Her new baby will be, which I get. I won’t even be able to fault her for that.
That’s how it should be for her.
I’d been worried about how I’d react to living with Skylar. How the marriage would impact me and my life. But what about Zoey?
I can’t lie to her. She’ll see the band on my finger. There will be times when I’ll have to call Skylar my wife, not just my special friend. And then there’s the baby. How will I explain to Zoey that the baby isn’t mine? It isn’t ours. What happens when Zoey falls in love with both of them?
There are too many variables with this. Too many uncertainties and things that could not just go wrong but blow up in our faces.
But how do I pull back?
I should, right?
I stare at Skylar’s door, closed and quiet, and heave out a breath. I’m so fucked. I asked her to marry me. What have I gotten myself involved in?
With determined strides, I head back into my room, shut my door, and climb into my bed, sitting up against the headboard with my legs under my covers. My phone is resting on my nightstand, fully charged, and I unplug it and set it on my lap, looking at the picture of me and Zoey I have as my wallpaper.
It was supposed to be just us against the world, but the world doesn’t care about our best intentions. I need advice. I need to talk to someone.
