Even if my marriage to Sarah won’t be traditional, she’ll still be my wife. Living in my house. Sharing my space. I already know she’s easy to talk to, and we will be spending a lot of time together. By default, that probably means I’ll talk to Theo less.
“So, when are you going to tell Mom?” Theo asks.
“The truth?” I ask. “Never.”
“Obviously,” he says. “I mean when are you going to tell her you’re getting married? You know she follows your Instagram. You can’t let her find out on the internet.”
I breathe out a sigh. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“At least you already set her up for it,” Theo says. “Even if it wasn’t intentional.”
I move to the edge of the pool and lower myself onto a deck chair. “I’m hoping she wants us to be married badly enough that she’ll roll with the timeline as long as I promise I’m happy.”
“Or she’ll just think Sarah’s pregnant.”
My brain makes fast work of conjuring what it might be like to have that kind of a relationship with Sarah, and a sudden flush makes my cheeks warm. I clear my throat, forcing the thought away, hoping the low light might keep Theo from noticing, but based on his current smirk, he knows exactly where his words sent my thoughts.
He’s annoying, but he’s not wrong. Mom absolutelywillthink Sarah’s pregnant. But then, when the marriage happens so quickly, a lot of people will.
“You’re probably right about that. But it’s not like I can tell Mom the truth.”
Theo chuckles. “No, you definitely can’t. She’d tell half her neighborhood.” He sits down across from me on a neighboring chair. “Are you going to make an offer?”
“I think so. Shelby says once the interior is open to showings, it’ll sell quickly, so I don’t want to lose it to someone else. We’ve got the first available appointment once the floors are finished.”
“Will you let Sarah see it first?”
“She’ll be in New York,” I say. “She leaves this week for a two-week residency. If Shelby is right, it would be risky to wait for her to come back. I think she’ll like it. There’s a room above the garage that would make a perfect studio. Huge windows, tons of natural light. Hardwood floors.”
Theo only stares.
“What?” I finally ask.
“Carter, are you buying a house because it has a good studio space for yournot-realwife?”
“Of course not. I don’t even know if it’ll work. I just saw the picture and thought it might.”
“Let me try this again,” Theo says. “Have you been filtering properties based on whether they havegood studio space for your not-real wife?”
“That’s not—she also has to live in it,” I say. “Paint in it. It’s a very practical consideration.”
Theo starts to laugh. “Oh, man, you are in so much trouble.”
“I’m not,” I say. “It’s not like that.”
“It is too like that. That’s why you said yes—somethingyou can’t deny because I was there when you decided. And so was Holly.”
I can’t argue with him. After we left the food drive, the three of us went out for a beer and outlined the three things I should ask for in exchange for saying yes to the marriage. At the time, fueled by their enthusiasm and one too many beers, it seemed like a perfectly decent list.
In retrospect, and especially after the game tonight when she wasn’t there, I realize just how much of that enthusiasm is tied directly to my hope that eventually, I might have a relationship with Sarah for real.
“Okay, you’re right,” I concede. “But I’m trying really hard not to get ahead of myself.”
“Smart,” Theo says. “But I still think you should let Sarah see the house before you make an offer. Do a video call, send her the listing. Something.”
“All right. I hear you. I’ll call her. I’ll give her a video tour before I make any decisions.”
“Good,” Theo says. He stands and offers me a hand. “See? You do need me.”
