“This is unfortunate.”
“Look, I know you’re going to have opinions, but here’s the truth.” Well, a version of the truth. “We met through my teammate West.” That’s true. “There was a connection immediately.” Just not a romantic one. “Between who her father is and the playoffs, we made the impulsive decision to elope. And yes, we signed a prenuptial. Both of our assets are protected.” That’s also true. “That’s it. We didn’t want to go through a whole production to get married. So, between the short timeline, her father’s busy schedule, and the playoffs, I met her father for about thirty minutes and her mother not at all.” Also the truth.
“And she worries they won’t like you.”
“Oh, we’re sure they don’t like me.”
“Because you’re Russian?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I think he believes I’m after a visa or something, even though that’s obviously not the case.”
He nods and is quiet for a while. “You understand that I know exactly what you did.”
“I just told you what I did,” I grunt, unsure where he’s going with this.
“You met a nice girl. A beautiful one. And one who isn’t after your money. Once she agreed to sign a prenuptial, you married her so that your mother could no longer manipulate your personal life. If it doesn’t work out, you lose very little except maybe some time.”
Jesus.
My father is a quiet man, but he doesn’t miss much.
I don’t say anything for a minute because I need to phrase my response carefully. If I flat out deny everything, he’ll know I’m lying. If I tell him he’s partly right, I can spin this exactly the way I need to.
“I’m crazy about her,” I say finally. “She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Yes, everything happened quickly, and maybe you’re right, that in the back of my mind this was a way to get Mama off my back, but the connection between us is…intense.”
“No one says you have to date for years before getting married. Your mother and I certainly didn’t. We spent the first year of our marriage getting to know each other. And I assume that’s what you will do as well. Personally, I think she’s lovely. Your mother, well, it will take her longer to come around. She worries that you will never come home if you’re married to an American.”
“Unless there’s a career-ending injury, I have a long career ahead of me. At least five more years, hopefully ten. I’m not thinking about retirement.”
“What happens when there are babies? Are you going to teach her Russian? Do you plan to bring her home in the summer?”
“We’re taking our honeymoon in the off-season,” I say. “We’re going to Egypt.”
He nods. “And from there, Moscow isn’t so far.”
He has a point.
“We’ll see,” I say quietly. “I want her to be comfortable. And if Mama is going to continue to be cold to her, why would she want to spend any time being subjected to that?”
“Your mother will do everything in her power to make her want to stay. To show her how good life can be in Russia. To sweeten the deal, so to speak.”
“Mama already questioned whether we’re married.”
“You’ll show her the papers, and that will be the end of it. Your mother is stubborn but she’s not stupid. Once it sinks in that you and Holly are married in every sense of the word, she’ll know she has no choice but to come around. She also will assume there will be babies in a year or two and she wants grandbabies more than she wants a Russian daughter-in-law.”
That’s also true. I’d forgotten that part.
Even though Holly and I won’t be together long enough for babies.
Will we?
The connection between us gets stronger every single day. It makes me a little uneasy, but it’s been impossible to resist. I like falling asleep beside her. I like waking up next to her. I love seeing her texts during the day, when she updates me on what she’s doing.
We haven’t had sex again—my schedule has been chaotic and we seem to be dancing around what we did the other night. But it’s going to happen. We both know it. It’s just a matter of deciding on what boundaries we decide to set.
“What is it?” my father asks. “You’re still hiding something.”
This part is easy. I can admit this to my father because I think he’s a lot like me in this regard. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been in love,” I blurt. “Like, I’m not sure what I’m feeling for Holly is that. Because I have never felt it as an adult. What I feel for her is different, but how do I know if it’s love? I don’t get emotional. I don’t understand romance beyond the obvious.”
