Marriage For One
: Chapter 10

For two strangers who had met and gotten married roughly a month and a half ago, we had fallen into a routine faster than I’d expected. Day after day, I found myself helping Rose at her coffee shop. Even when I didn’t intend to drop by, or let’s say even when I knew I shouldn’t drop by, I still found myself on her doorstep. I’d lost count of how many times I’d lied and said I had a meeting nearby or found other convenient lies. I don’t think she believed them anymore. Maybe I needed the lies for my own sake.

By the time her place was ready to open, it had felt like she had destroyed the small barrier I’d tried my best to put up between us. Something had shifted. It was there in the way she looked at me, or sometimes the way she wasn’t looking at me. I wasn’t sure just yet if it was a good change or what it exactly meant, but it was a change nonetheless.

I woke up earlier than I was used to. After having received another text from Joshua Landon after Rose went to bed, I had some issues sleeping. I sighed and got up, going straight to the gym in the next room. I couldn’t think of any other way to work out my frustrations with myself and the situation. This business deal, Rose, this marriage was the worst decision I’d made in my life because I was losing control and losing it fast. I was doing everything I’d thought I wouldn’t do. Yet it was too late to back out. It’d been too late to back out ever since I’d met her at city hall.

I hated running, but I ran on that damn treadmill for over an hour, watching the night sky slowly change color as the sun replaced the moon. When I jumped off, I was still angry and frustrated to the point that I was ready to risk everything and come clean, even though I knew it wasn’t the right time, that it might never be the right time.

I stopped and listened. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I’d been doing that ever since I woke up, but so far I hadn’t heard a single noise coming from Rose’s side of the second floor or downstairs. I kept telling myself I wasn’t her chauffeur; if she wanted to walk to work when it was almost dark outside, she damn well could. I had to mind my own damn business. She had gone places without me just fine before we had made this goddamn deal and gotten married.

Yet my ears were still searching for the telltale signs of her stepping out of her room and rushing down the stairs as she did every morning.

Taking my shirt off, I walked to the small fridge in the corner and took out a water bottle. Draining it in one go, I threw it on the floor.

Guilt was a very strong opponent to go to war with, and I couldn’t seem to shake myself out of the funk I was in. When you added ex-fiancés into the mix…

I started on the weights until I was dripping with sweat.

What was it with her? Why couldn’t I stay away? What the hell was I going to do?

When I was done, I went back to my room to take a quick shower. Maybe it’d been a good thing that I hadn’t been able to sleep. If by the time I was dressed, Rose hadn’t gotten up, I was going to have to wake her myself. With a towel wrapped around my hips, I checked the time as soon as I was out. She was late. I got dressed as quickly as I could and headed to her room, cursing myself for worrying the entire time. I was in this marriage for the property. I was in this marriage for the sake of looking like a family man. All I had to do was keep repeating it to myself.

Still a little worried, I wasn’t exactly quiet as I knocked on her door.

“Rose? I’m not your goddamn alarm.”

Provoking her and watching her reactions was probably one of my favorite things in life at the moment.

No sound. After hesitating for a second or two, I pushed open the door only to see her bed was made and she was already gone. Had she left while I was working out or when I was in the shower? I grabbed my phone from my room and went downstairs. I was tempted to call and ask her if she had made it to work okay, but I thought better of it. I left my phone in the living room and went into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. What I brewed at home tasted just fine. I didn’t need to go to her coffee shop every day just because she was my wife or because I enjoyed looking at her. I made a good enough coffee myself.

While I was still waiting for my coffee to be ready that I was sure wouldn’t taste anywhere near as good as hers, I heard my phone going off in the living room. By the time I picked it up, it had stopped ringing. It wasn’t a number I recognized so I let it be. Leaving the phone where it was, I headed back to the kitchen, only to turn back midway when the phone started ringing again.

“Yes?”

“Jack?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Jack, it’s me, Rose. I…I’m calling you from…a…someone else’s phone.”

Not knowing what was going on, I tensed when I heard how her voice trembled.

“I was just wondering if—Jack, are you there?”

When she started talking to someone else, I lost my patience.

“Rose, tell me what’s going on. Where are you?”

“Oh, you’re there. Okay. Right. I…I just took a little tumble, and—”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Well, I wasn’t, but I’m now…Henry?” I heard her address someone else. “Your name is Henry, right? Yes, I—” She let out a long breath. “Henry was out running, and he saw me trip and fall. He was kind enough to help me. My phone flew out of my hand and took a tumble of its own so it’s not working at the moment. I was wondering if you could come and help me to work. Henry offered to wait with me until then. I’d go on my own, but I think—”

Somewhere in the middle of her ramblings, I had already opened the door and was standing in front of the elevators.

“Where are you? Tell me your exact location.”

When she couldn’t even tell me where she was, she asked Henry and related his exact words to me. I hung up on her. Then I put the damn phone back to my ear as if she could still hear me and I could apologize after realizing I’d been rude.

Out on the street, I considered grabbing a cab, but from what they were telling me, they weren’t anywhere near the road. Before I could waste more time thinking of the best way to get there, I found myself running across the street, ignoring the blaring car horns as I avoided getting hit by oncoming traffic. I entered the park somewhere around 79th and ran as fast as I could in a suit. If Henry had described the place correctly, she was somewhere in between the Ramble and the Boathouse.

I slowed down to a brisk walk when there was almost fifty feet separating us and watched as Rose lifted her head and looked straight at me. She gingerly got to her feet with the help of the man standing next to her. My eyes ran over her, but I couldn’t see any visible injuries. My heart was pounding from the run, or maybe it was just worry, or what the hell maybe it was just seeing her, but thankfully my brain was still working enough to remember that we were supposed to be husband and wife and we could and should act like a couple around other people.

“Rose.”

I went straight for her and before I could try to think of what I could do or what would be appropriate, I found myself rocking back a step when her body hit mine. She was fine, and she was already in my arms. A little out of breath, I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her, squeezing gently since I wasn’t sure where her injuries were. I closed my eyes for a second and let out a long breath. She was fine.

“What happened?” I asked, addressing the guy next to her, but Rose answered before he could speak, thinking I was talking to her.

“I probably shouldn’t have called you. I was being stupid, I’m sorry,” she whispered to my shoulder and pulled back. My brows snapped together as I studied her face. If she didn’t think she should have called me, what was she doing jumping into my arms? Reluctantly, I let her go. Her gaze dropped to her hands, so I looked down as well to see her staring at her shattered phone screen. “It works enough that I could replace you in my contacts, but it’s not calling. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

“It’s broken to pieces, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Henry thought I should call someone to pick me up.”

I finally turned to Henry. He was maybe forty or forty-five with white streaks in his hair, wearing black sweatpants and a black zip-up sweatshirt. I extended my hand. “Thank you for helping my wife. Is there anything we can do for you?”

We shook hands as he gave Rose a once-over. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad I was there to help.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to go, but she took a bad fall so you might want to have someone look—”

My jaw clenched. “I’ll take care of her. Thank you again.”

Rose shuffled closer to me. “I have a coffee shop on Madison Avenue, Around the Corner. If you’re ever around, please drop by—I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee as a thank you.”

“Sure. It’s not safe for you to walk around the park this early in the morning, so be careful in the future.”

“I will. Again, thank you.”

Giving us a nod and a quick wave, Henry jogged away toward the west side.

Rose took a deep breath and sighed. I looked her over from head to toe once again, trying to assess the situation. “I feel fine now, and when Henry insisted I should call someone, I couldn’t protest. I mean, I was going to call Owen, but he probably already started on the baking and I didn’t want to take him from—”

“Rose, stop talking.” I picked up her hand, the one she was holding her phone with, and she winced. I frowned down at her, gently picking up the phone so I could hold her hand and look at the damage. The heel of her palm was scraped and there was some blood.

“Give me your other hand.”

“It’s fine.”

My mouth tightened and I kept my hand open, waiting for her. Reluctantly she held up her palm—the same scrapes, more blood.

“The ring is fine.”

“Do I look like I care about a fucking ring?” I snapped, too busy turning her hand over and gently pressing on her wrists to see if she was hurting.

“Nope, you don’t. How did you get here so fast anyway?”

“I ran.”

She was quiet for a few seconds as I examined her skin.

“You ran?”

I gave her a long look that made her lips twitch which broke my concentration.

“It’s just a bunch of surface scrapes. It’ll be fine once I wash and clean them, Jack. I’m fine. Really. No need to worry.”

“I’m not worrying.”

I ran my thumb across her palm, dislodging a few small stones that were sticking to her skin. She was right—they weren’t so bad that I would consider taking her to the hospital, but I had considered it. There was more dirt on her jeans so I assumed there were more scrapes at unseen places.

I let go of her hands, my eyes scanning her body again.

I watched as she held her hands up to her chest, rubbed the center of one, and winced.

“How did you managed to fall?”

Shifting her feet, she looked up at me under her lashes. “I was feeling a little dizzy and I fricking tripped on something. I don’t even know what it was, I wasn’t paying attention and then my ankle turned and I fell hard on my knees and hands. Henry helped me up, and I was a little shaky so he made me call someone. I couldn’t think of anyone but you. It’s nothing, I just need a little help walking, that’s all.”

I couldn’t think of anyone but you.

That shut me up for a second or two as I stared at her.

“You’re fine?” I asked with my brows raised. I reached for her hands and gently held them between us. Her palms weren’t dripping with blood, but the scrapes weren’t nothing either. “This isn’t nothing. Who knows what your knees look like.”

“I’m sure they look fine. It does hurt a little when I bend them, but only because I landed pretty hard on them, not because they’re scraped.”

Kneeling down, I looked at the foot she was trying her best not to put weight on. I rolled up her jeans once and gently wrapped my hand around her ankle. Even this. Even an innocent touch like this was starting to affect me.

“Jack?” Rose whispered and snapped me back from my thoughts.

When I pressed on a spot that was slightly red, she jerked it back.

“Yes,” I said dryly as I stood up. “You’re completely fine. Can you walk?

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let’s see how you walk.” Slipping her bag off her shoulder, I turned left, but she turned right. I stopped. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To work, of course,” she replied with a small frown forming between her brows.

“I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rose, I need to take a look at what else is hurt. We’re going home.”

“I don’t think so. I’m already late so if you’re not gonna help, I’m completely fine walking on my own.”

She turned, getting ready to walk away.

“Because that turned out so well for you the last time, right?” I asked, stopping her in her tracks before she could take a step.

Her eyes were narrowed when she faced me again. “Yes, actually, it’s worked out just fine these last few weeks. So, I’m thinking it’s gonna be just fine now too.”

I gritted my teeth and kept my mouth shut. She didn’t give me a chance to say anything anyway before she turned around to leave again. Her first step looked normal, but the second didn’t look smooth enough. She was favoring her left leg. What was I gonna do with her? Without even realizing it, she had just crumpled another wall I’d tried my best to put up.

Still just a few steps separating us, I called out after her. “Your bag.”

She stopped and looked at me over her shoulder, her features tight. “What?”

Staying silent, I raised my eyebrow and showed her the bag in my hand. She limped back the few steps she had taken and held her hand up, eyes boring into mine.

She was something else.

I studied her face, thinking maybe I could intimidate her, but she wasn’t giving an inch. I’d gotten to know her pretty well, and I knew she wouldn’t give in, no matter what I said or did. Shaking my head, I threw her bag on my left shoulder and tucked her arm around my right.

She stiffened next to me and tried to pull away. I covered the back of her hand with my right hand to keep her still.

“I’m not going back to your apartment, Jack,” she said through gritted teeth as a group of runners and their two dogs forced us to move to the edge of the road.

“It’s not my apartment anymore, is it?” I asked distractedly. “It’s supposed to be ours. Get used to it so you don’t let something like that slip around your cousins or other people.”

“Are you taking me to work or—”

“We’re going to your precious coffee shop, goddammit,” I burst out, and then I tried my best to gentle my voice. “You called me for help and I’m helping. Stop arguing with me and try to walk instead.”

That shut her up. She gave me another look and bit down on her lip as she grabbed my arm with her left hand too. After a few slow steps, she rested a bit more of her weight on me.

She was as stubborn as a mule. Another thing that made me like her more.

“How are your knees?” I asked, completely aware of how surly I sounded.

Another fleeting look at me. “They feel a little tight. I’m sure it’ll go back to normal in a few hours. We’re closer to the coffee shop than our apartment anyway.”

I gritted my teeth, glaring at the people walking past us. “Right.” After a few minutes of shuffling and resting and wincing, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Put your arm around my neck,” I ordered. When she hesitated, I sighed and did it myself.

“I’m shorter than you, so we can’t walk like that—Jack!”

“What?” I asked, grunting softly when I had her up in my arms.

“Have you lost your mind?”

I started walking at a normal pace, holding her tightly against my chest as she slid her other hand around my neck.

“Jack, you don’t have to carry me, I can walk. Put me down.”

“No. You can’t put weight on your left leg. You’re gonna make it worse.”

“I can. I’ve been walking with your help. Jack, I can.”

“With the speed we were going, you’d reach your coffee shop at noon. What’s the problem? I’m doing all the work here, and I thought you were in a hurry to get there.”

“Jack,” she growled, her eyes shooting daggers at me. I kept my eyes forward and continued walking. “Jack, I’m warning you, you’re not going to carry me all the way to the coffee shop.”

“I’m not? If you say so, I’m sure it must be true.”

“Everyone is staring at us,” she whispered.

“We’ve only passed two people.”

“And both of them were looking at us like we were crazy. I’m not gonna be in your arms while we’re crossing 5th Avenue with all those people around. Everyone will look at us. The traffic! And Madison Avenue!”

“You will.”

“I’m really regretting calling you right now.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

I was enjoying it too much.

When trying to push off of me so she could get down didn’t work, she gently slapped my shoulder with her injured hand and then winced.

I clenched my jaw so I wouldn’t smile. “Stop squirming. You’re not the only one who likes to get to work on time.”

“Fine, have it your way. You’ll put me down once we exit the park.” Since we were almost out of it anyway, a lot more people started to pass us, some of them snickering, some of them giving us disapproving looks. I ignored them, but Rose wasn’t exactly good at that.

“Hi,” she shouted to a stranger walking by and staring at her. “I just hurt my leg, that’s why he’s carrying me. He’s my husband. Everything is good.” The woman just shook her head and quickened her steps. “Jack,” she groaned, her voice muffled by her face being buried in my neck. “They think we’re crazy. I’ll never be able to walk through here again.”

I hiked her up and, with a surprisingly satisfying squeak, she held tighter on my neck. That was fun.

“If you don’t want them to think you’re crazy, I’d suggest stop shouting at them. And you aren’t going to walk through here again anyway, so stop complaining.”

She lifted her head off my chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ll talk to Raymond. He’ll come earlier and take you across then he’ll come back and take me to work. It was stupid of you to walk through the park while it was barely light out. You’re lucky you didn’t break your leg or get mugged.”

I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t look at her.

“I have pepper spray in my bag. And I don’t need a driver. I’m not the kind of person who has a driver. No offense to Raymond—I like him, and he’s a nice guy—but I’m not like you.”

Finally, we made it out onto 5th, where there were a lot more people. “Thanks for pointing that out. I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself all my life, Jack,” she said softly.

“I know and you’ve done an amazing job. Just because you can take care of yourself, you’re not supposed to let anyone else help you? I’m sorry for committing this atrocity against you.”

“You’re insane.”

“I think we covered that the first day we met. No need to rehash it all over again.”

“You’re also unbelievable, do you know that?” she asked softer.

“I can imagine,” I murmured, a little distracted. Standing next to a group of people, I waited for the light to change.

“He is my husband,” Rose announced to the group. “I fell.”

There were some snickers from the school girls on our left when I hiked her up again and Rose squeaked.

As we made it across, she started up again, and I sighed.

“We’re almost there—”

“You can hold on for a few more minutes then.”

“Jack.”

“Rose. You know some women would replace this romantic.”

“I’m not some women.”

“You’re telling me,” I grunted.

Luckily, there was silence after that until we reached the front door of her beautiful coffee shop. I gently put her down under the roses and handed her bag to her. Keeping her gaze averted, she searched for a key and opened the door. I could see the light in the kitchen from where we were standing, meaning the guy, the part-time worker, was already there. With jerky movements, she unlocked the door and walked in.

“Let’s take a look at your knees while I—”

Before I could finish my sentence and follow her in, she slammed the door in my face and reset the alarm. As I stared after her, she didn’t even look back. Still limping, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Shocked and absurdly amused, I stood there looking into the empty coffee shop for another ten seconds. Then, turning around, my hands in my pockets, I walked for a block or two. I eventually hailed a cab and headed home so I could get to work myself. I wasn’t sure what to feel about the smile that stayed on my face the entire morning.

Later, I walked into my office and greeted Cynthia.

“Good morning, Jack.”

I leaned against the edge of my desk. “Good morning. Any changes in my schedule for today?”

Her forehead creased, and she looked down at her tablet. “No, no changes.”

“Then I need you to clear everything between…” I checked my watch, trying to decide what time would be better. “Eleven-thirty and two-thirty. A few hours would be enough, I think.”

“Enough for what?”

“I have something I need to take care of.”

“Jack, I can’t clear those time slots.”

“Why not?”

“Did you forget? You have the negotiations with Morrison and Gadd.”

“The documents with the necessary changes are ready?”

“An associate is on it, and it’ll be done in time for the meeting.”

“Get them from him.”

“But—”

“I’ll get it done quicker. Get it for me.”

“Done.”

“Good, and push the negotiations to two. The other side, Gadd, didn’t want to meet up that early anyway, so let them know first.” I got up and moved to sit behind my desk.

“And Morrison? What am I supposed to tell him?” she asked.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Did you read his email? The one he sent this morning?”

She nodded.

“Well, tell him we need to do more research on the new company he wants to invest twenty million in. I want to get both the negotiations and the new investment deal taken care of today. He won’t mind the delay if we have everything ready.”

“Okay. What about the rest of your schedule? We’ll need to push everything back. You have a five PM call with Gilbert—you can’t miss that today.”

“Fine. I’ll leave the office at eleven. I can get through my ten-thirty call by then, and I’ll come back around one-thirty for the meeting so push it to then instead. That way I’ll be done with Morrison and Gadd by the time I need to be on the phone with Gilbert. If everything goes as planned, we’ll have Gadd sign the final papers at the end of the meeting and I’ll be ready for the call with Gilbert. I’ll stay late and catch up, don’t worry.”

“Okay, I can work with that. Where did you say you were going again?”

“I didn’t say. Close the door, please, and don’t forget to bring me those documents.”

When I lifted my head up from my laptop, Cynthia was already gone.

An hour later, when I was going through the documents, making sure everything was ready for the meeting, Samantha appeared at my door. I glanced at Cynthia’s desk, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Wanting to get it over with, I was the one who engaged her. “What do you want, Samantha? I need to go over these before I leave.”

She shrugged and took my question as an invitation to walk in and sit across from me. “Something is not right with you—or maybe I should say something has changed.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’ve been leaving early.”

“And that’s your business because…?”

“You’re the last one to leave here, every day.”

“And now I’m not.” I put down the papers in my hands. “What do you want?”

She lifted her hands in surrender, her red lips curving up. “Nothing. I’m just making conversation and sharing my observations.”

“What gave you the impression that I would be interested in your observations? I’m not going to explain myself to you. Do you need something from me?”

“Not really. I had a little free time so I’m just chatting with you. How is your lovely wife?”

If it had been someone else sitting across from me, they would’ve tucked their tail between their legs and left already, but Samantha wasn’t like other people. She had never been scared of me, and I thought maybe it was time to change that.

“If you pull the same shit you pulled at dinner again, we’ll have problems.”

“Excuse me?”

“What you did at dinner—I’m letting you know if it happens again, we’ll have problems.”

“It’s going to be like that, huh?”

“Cut the crap and don’t act like you care about my life or my wife. We know each other pretty well by now, I’d think. You know I don’t like having people in my business, so stay out of it.”

Cynthia stuck her head in, interrupting before Samantha could give a response. “Did you call me, Jack?”

I hadn’t, but Cynthia knew the trick. If there was someone in my office she was sure I wouldn’t want there, she always ran interference. “Yes, I need you to get me the—”

Samantha rose to her high-heeled feet and I paused midsentence. “I’ll leave you to your work. I didn’t mean any harm, Jack, truly—not that night, and not just now. I’m simply pointing out that you’ve changed, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. Plus, I was curious, obviously.”

When she realized I wasn’t going to answer, she released a long sigh, turned around, and gave Cynthia a smile before walking out of my office.

“You need anything?” Cynthia asked, and I shook my head. She left without another word. She was the best assistant in the entire firm.

Done with the papers, I got on with my ten-thirty call, and we wrapped up at a quarter past eleven. Rising, I put on my suit jacket and called Raymond so he could bring the car around front.

Leaving the office, I stopped in front of Cynthia’s desk and dropped off the documents. “Can you have the copies ready by the time I get back?”

“Of course.”

“Also, do you remember the charity thing you mentioned a few weeks ago? Something for kids?” I tried to remember where it was going to be held, but I couldn’t come up with the name. “It was on the tenth, I think. I’m not sure.”

“Yes, I remember. What about it?”

“I want to donate, so I’m going to attend with my wife. Can you take care of everything?”

“You’re going to attend a charity dinner?” Her voice got thinner with each word as her brows rose higher.

“Try not to look so surprised. Can you handle it?”

She shook herself out of her disbelief. “Of course I can. I’ll give you the info you need when you get back.”

“Okay. Thank you, Cynthia. I’ll see you later.”

I managed to take a few steps away from her desk before her voice stopped me.

“Jack?”

I turned back and waited. She played with her glasses and looked away from me.

“I’m going to be late. What do you want?”

“Jack…it’s not my place, and I know that, so don’t bite my head off for saying this, but…” I knew nothing that started with those words could be something I’d want to hear.

“I don’t bite your head off.”

She smiled, relaxing in her seat. “Only every day.”

“Surely not every day,” I said seriously, but her smile grew, and then she slowly went back to being serious.

“You have to tell her, Jack.”

“I have to tell who what? Samantha?”

She pinned me with her stare. “No. Not Samantha. I’ve known you for years now—don’t try to act stupid with me. You have to tell her. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

I opened my mouth, but she lifted her finger and stopped me. “You have to tell her.”

It finally dawned on me what the hell she was talking about. Of course she was talking about Rose. If there was one person whose crap I’d tolerate, it was Cynthia, and even with her, I had a limit, yet I didn’t respond the way I would’ve responded if it was anyone but her. “It’s not the right time,” I forced out through my gritted teeth.

“It’s never going to be the right time, Jack.”

As if I didn’t already know that. As if I didn’t know I was doomed.

I left before she could say anything else.

Not exactly sure what I would face—because it always seemed to be a surprise when it came to Rose—I walked through the door. The day before, it had smelled like vanilla; it now smelled of cinnamon and fragrant coffee. With the bell’s noise, Rose glanced my way while still attending to a customer. Her smile faltered, but she didn’t lose it completely. Instead of heading over to her, I picked the table next to her little library and got comfortable. My seat was facing her, so I looked around and noticed, out of the twelve tables, nine were occupied. For her second day, she was doing amazingly well. Even the bar seats had a couple customers deep in conversation as they looked out on the street, drinking their coffees. Two new customers walked in and I settled down to wait. Taking out my phone, I started to catch up on emails.

The few times I glanced up to see if she was avoiding me or was simply busy, my eyes lingered on her, causing me to lose my train of thought. She always looked so lively, so vivacious and confident. In between customers, her eyes slid my way. I held her gaze to see what she’d do, but she managed to act as if I wasn’t even there.

Holding back a smile, I waited. A few minutes turned into ten, and then finally she stood over me, waiting. I raised an eyebrow and lowered my phone.

“I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here. Can I get you anything?”

“Why are you always so surprised to see me?” I asked, genuinely curious to hear her answer. Her expression didn’t change, which told me she was still annoyed with me—not that I could understand her reasoning. Her leg had been hurt, so I’d helped her, end of story. Why did it matter what other people she’d probably never see again in her life or even remember if she saw them thought? I’d always been under the impression that women found it romantic when guys carried them. Apparently not this one.

“I’m not surprised anymore.” She looked over her shoulder when one of the customers let out a loud laugh then turned back to me. “Can I—”

“Were you expecting to see me tonight?” I asked, again, just out of curiosity. I leaned forward and put my phone on the table.

She licked her lips, looking toward the kitchen. I followed her gaze and saw the girl she had introduced me to before—Sally, I believed—leaning against the doorframe and talking to someone in the kitchen, most likely the other employee, the guy. My eyes back on Rose, I waited to hear her reply.

“I was. You always come,” she said, shrugging as if it was a given that I’d be there. I supposed it was now.

“Will you join me, please?”

She eyed the seat across from me but didn’t sit down. “Can I get you anything before I do that? Coffee? Tea?”

“I wouldn’t say no to coffee if you’re the one preparing it.”

She looked a little surprised then nodded and walked away, slowly. She wasn’t limping exactly, so she was probably right that it hadn’t been a serious injury, but she wasn’t walking smoothly either. Point being, her ankle was hurting. I still didn’t understand the fuss when I had only tried to help her.

Instead of getting back on my phone and finishing the response I had started, I watched her prepare coffee for both of us, discreetly glancing my way every now and then. A few minutes later, she came back with a small tray and put it on the table before sitting down across from me. Reaching forward, she put one of the mugs in front of me and held on to the other one. Between us sat a plate full of lemon bars.

I gave her a questioning look, but she was busy drinking from her mug, her eyes cast downward.

“No work today?” she asked into her coffee mug.

“I need to get back soon.”

She nodded and we fell silent.

“So, we’re not talking then,” I concluded. “I’m not planning on apologizing for trying to help you, if that’s what you’re waiting for me to do.”

“No, you’re not the kind of person who apologizes, are you?” she asked, lifting her big brown eyes up to mine. “Do you ever apologize? For anything?”

“I try not to do anything I’ll end up having to apologize for,” I answered honestly. Try was the operative word here.

She sighed and took another long sip of her coffee. “I’m not angry at you for helping me. I would’ve preferred to walk on my own, but I’m not gonna stay angry at you for carrying me. I was a little annoyed by your last comment, that’s all. Still, I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

A little amused, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Excuse me? I couldn’t hear what you said to your coffee.”

“I said—” she looked up and met my eyes. “You heard that.”

Why did I enjoy provoking her?

Why did I enjoy when she snapped back at me?

“For what?” I asked, reaching for my own coffee.

Another long sigh. “For slamming the door in your face and leaving you out there. It was immature, but in my defense you know exactly which buttons to push.”

I couldn’t exactly argue with that. “Okay. Now will you tell me which of my comments made you annoyed with me?”

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me.”

We looked at each other for a while.

“I said I’m not some women and you said, you’re telling me.”

Hiding my smile behind the mug, I kept my eyes on her, and she chose to look anywhere but me. She appeared to be both annoyed and surly at the same time, and defiant, of course—definitely not someone who was regretting slamming the door in my face.

“I meant that as a compliment, Rose.”

Her eyes came back to me.

“I…Good. That’s great then. Thank you?”

“How’s your ankle?” I asked, letting her off the hook.

“It’s better. It didn’t swell up, but I’m still taking it easy.”

At least the stiffness in her shoulders had softened a bit.

“How are we? Are we good as well?”

Her smile was as sweet as it could get.

“Yes, Jack.”

“You made lemon bars again,” I commented in the hopes of changing the conversation to safer ground when I felt myself drawn to her even more.

She shifted in her seat. “Actually, that was why I was coming in early. I promised you I’d make more of them yesterday, bring a batch back to the apartment maybe, because I like them too. I thought I’d get them done before opening up.”

“You made them for me?”

“I promised.” She shrugged and pushed her hands under her legs. “And I thought it would be a good apology for slamming the door in your face.”

I raised an eyebrow and took another sip of my coffee before reaching for one of the bars. Taking a bite, I watched her watching me.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked over Rose’s shoulder, saw Sally keeping an eye on us from her spot with interest, and missed the end of Rose’s sentence. I doubted we looked like a real couple from where she was standing, let alone a married one.

Maybe we should do something to fix that.

My focus shifted back to Rose.

“So we had our first married fight, huh? How do you feel about that?”

“The honeymoon stage is over for us, I’m afraid,” I agreed offhandedly.

She nodded. “We made quick work of that. I don’t see good things for the future of our marriage.”

“You never know. Maybe we’re one of those married couples who fight at the drop of a hat but never get a divorce. You might be stuck with me.”

“Oh, that sounds exhausting, and annoying for other people. Let’s not be like them. Let’s replace better examples and try to imitate them.”

“Like who?”

Her gaze slid up to the ceiling as she tried to come up with an example. “Actually, I don’t think I know that many married couples. You?”

“I’m afraid the ones I know aren’t people I’d like to imitate,” I answered.

“Evelyn and Fred?”

“They are more like partners than anything else.”

“Oh, from the way Fred talked about her that night, I assumed they were in love.”

“They do love each other, but I think if they didn’t have a kid, they wouldn’t have much in common other than work.”

“Your parents? How about them? Are they still married? Do they have a happy marriage?”

After drinking almost half of the coffee, I put it down and leaned back. “The last people you’d like to imitate, trust me. Just look at how I turned out.”

“I don’t know. I think they did a pretty good job with you. Then how about we don’t imitate anyone and just make our own rules?”

“What kind of a couple do you want to be then?”

She thought about it some, taking sips of her coffee every now and then. “I don’t want to be one of those couples who are in everyone’s face, being all extra touchy. We could be more subtle, you know what I mean?”

I nodded and she kept going.

“Let me give you a small example, just in case. Let’s say we’re standing and talking to someone—you can hold my hand or have your arm around my waist, just keep it simple and…maybe a small, intimate kiss. I don’t know, just…simple.”

“Any other tips you have for me?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It wasn’t a tip, exactly. You asked what kind of couple I wanted us to be, so I’m just saying. I like that kind of couple.”

“What else?”

“I want to be the kind of couple that has traditions. Like…maybe Mondays are pizza nights. Thursday is pasta day. That type of thing.”

“That’s it?”

“Okay, give me a minute. I’m going to Google this and see what we’re working with. Let me get my phone.”

Before I could stop her, she got up and ran to the kitchen. Her movements were a little wobbly and she tried to tiptoe on her left foot, but in essence it would be called running. She waved Sally off when she looked alarmed, and her return was calmer, no running this time.

Puffing out a breath, she took her seat again and focused on the screen of her phone. “Okay, let me see…okay, there are more formal types like traditional, disengaged, cohesive, pursuer, distant—we won’t be that. I hate those types. Operatic…heated fighting followed by passionate lovemaking.” Her head snapped up and she stole a glance at me then quickly focused back on her phone. “Nope. Romantic couple—that doesn’t sound too bad, does it? Okay, let me try to replace something more informal…”

I drained the rest of my coffee.

“Okay. Showoffs…basically PDA—this is what I meant. I don’t like being all extra. Also, I don’t see you as a PDA person,” she mumbled. “Space-giving couple—I guess we’re like that? Why are they married couple…we can’t be this. That is not me. Even if this is fake, I don’t want to be like that. If we’re playing a part, let’s do it right.”

“That would be my parents.”

Her head lifted again. “Really?”

I nodded.

“Yikes. Okay, what else…what else…honeymoon couple. Dammit, we just fought, so that doesn’t work for us. Next, whining couple—nope. Always together couple…I mean…” She looked at me under her lashes, but neither one of us made a comment. “The rest is crap.” She put her phone down. “Anything specific you want to be?”

“Let’s stick with doing whatever needs to be done at the moment.”

“That’s leaving it very open to interpretation.”

I ran my hand over my face. “How about just being ourselves and acting natural?”

“You’re loads of fun. Being ourselves individually isn’t the problem. How to be ourselves as a couple—that’s the hard thing.”

“What? Do you want to practice playing pretend?” She looked at me weirdly but didn’t respond. I changed tactics, because playing pretend wouldn’t be a good idea at all. Not with how things were going. This was fake and temporary. Period. “Am I allowed to ask about your relationship with your ex-fiancé? What kind of a couple were you? Why did you break up?”

She looked taken back but at least responded. “Where did that come from?”

“I’m curious.”

“You’re never curious.”

“Today, it seems I am.”

Looking all kinds of uncomfortable, she sighed. “We weren’t a specific type of couple, I guess. We did our own thing. Sometimes he was into PDA even when I wasn’t and it would bug me off, but other than that it was an easy relationship. Looking back at it now maybe it was too easy. And we just… God, I hate this. I was shocked when he ended things. Came out of nowhere, he dumped me in a text. I couldn’t believe I was so wrong about him. Couldn’t believe he didn’t want to marry me anymore. Called him for days, trying to get in touch. Never heard back. Went to his apartment and his neighbor said he’d moved out. Just like that, he just disappeared.” She lifted a shoulder and then let it drop down.

“I lost it there for a few days. Then sadness gave way to anger. I gave myself permission to cry and curse him for a week, but anyone who breaks up with me via text is not worth crying for. I stopped crying on day four. I don’t have the luxury of pining after someone who doesn’t want me. He had this way of making me feel less than without me realizing he was doing it. It was weird. I definitely thought he was the one for me, up until he broke up with me, but when he wasn’t around anymore, the rose-colored glasses came off pretty quickly. He was really good at getting me to say yes to everything even when I didn’t want to. Everyone loved him, especially Gary.”

“I thought you didn’t see Gary much.”

“I didn’t, but Joshua really wanted to meet him so I kinda had to… He knew exactly what to say to get you to like him, and as for being my fiancé…he did ask me to marry him, but he didn’t give me a ring or anything like that, so now that I’m thinking about it, maybe he never meant to go through with it anyway? Who knows.”

“What about now? Do you feel something for him now?”

She frowned. “Of course not. Sometimes all you need is a little time away to look at things with a new perspective. Joshua and I seemed like a great idea on paper, but in reality I don’t think we would’ve worked in the long run. There wasn’t much of a spark to keep it going, I think. I’m not sad it’s over. Anyway…Jack, why did you say you came here again?”

I let the Joshua topic go.

This was fake. This was temporary.

“I wanted to see if you needed anything. And to see if you were okay.”

“That’s…really sweet of you, Jack.”

Before I could say something, the door behind me opened, cold air rushing inside as the bell rang, a soft welcoming chime for the new customers.

I looked over my shoulder to see four women still admiring the flowers as Rose got to her feet. The smile I was getting too familiar with was already plastered on her lips and it was not just for me anymore.

“I’ll be right back.” Her mind was obviously focused on the newcomers as they slowly walked forward, their curious eyes taking everything in.

She turned toward the group of customers.

“Welcome,” Rose said when the chatty women were finally near her. My eyes dropped to her lips as her smile widened when the women smiled back and said hello.

“If you have work to do, I should leave. I have a packed afternoon and evening,” I commented, distracted.

Her gaze flitted back to me. “You’re not coming tonight? You don’t have to, of course, but I—”

“I pushed back a meeting to be able to come here now, so I’m going to have to stay late to catch up with my calls after that ends. I’ll send Raymond. You think you’ll be able to make it back to the apartment in one piece?”

“Oh, that’s funny, Mr. Hawthorne. I—”

“Rose!” Sally called out, catching her attention.

Instead of going behind the counter to work next to Sally, Rose stayed next to the customers, chatting with them and pointing at the food under the glass domes. I waited for a few minutes, feeling impatient; waiting wasn’t my strong suit. Eventually, after a long discussion and several changed decisions, everyone had given their orders. I ate another of the lemon bars Rose had baked herself and rose from my seat. Reaching for my wallet in my back pocket, I took out some cash. She didn’t notice me until I was standing right next to her.

“Oh, Jack, I’ll be right—”

Everyone’s eyes were on us, especially Sally’s, so I tried to be careful. “I need to leave.” I held out a hundred-dollar bill to Sally and instead of being a good employee and taking it from me before Rose could see, her gaze jumped from me to Rose.

“Ummm…Rose,” she mumbled, causing Rose to take her eyes from me and glance at her and then at the money I was holding.

“What’s that for?” Rose asked, fully facing me.

I sighed and, after giving Sally a cold look, met Rose’s eyes.

“Let’s not do this again. Take it,” I ordered, holding it out to her.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Jack Hawthorne,” she said slowly, and my lips twitched involuntarily. I could imagine she fully meant what she said. I had no doubt she could hurt me.

“I need to leave,” I repeated. Then, thinking it would simply be a good distraction, a good show for her employee and even sort of a practice for the charity event we’d be attending, I slid my arm around her waist. Her eyes were slightly widened in alarm, her entire body stiff, but at least she wasn’t jumpy like she had been at our first outing. Slowly her body relaxed, and she arched her back so she could look up at me with those big eyes.

A simple and meaningless touch would have to be acted out more naturally at one point in our fake marriage, almost as if touching her or kissing her in front of other people would become second nature. Practice was good.

“Thank you for the coffee. It’s always the best,” I murmured, having trouble looking away. Then I leaned down and hesitated for a heartbeat before I pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead as she was still looking up at me in confusion. That spot felt like it was the most harmless one and I took my time, breathing in her sweet and fresh scent. When I pulled back, one of her hands was resting against my chest, the other one clutching my arm. Her chest rising and falling, she blinked up at me.

Taking her hand that had ended up on my chest, I opened her fingers, my fingertip catching on her wedding ring. Why did such a simple and, in our situation, meaningless thing give me so much pleasure to see? She wasn’t mine, but the idea of it…the possibility… I placed the money on her still red palm before gently closing her fingers around the bill. Surprisingly, she didn’t say a word, just kept staring up at me as if she was lost. Was she just as affected as I was by our pretending?

“Don’t take it off, okay? I like seeing it on your finger,” I whispered.

I had already forgotten about the people around us. This wasn’t so much for them but more for me, I thought, just so I could see that soft look on her face. I cupped her cheek and leaned down enough so I could whisper in her ear. “Was that the right amount of PDA for our fake marriage? A small intimate kiss, you said, right? Arm around the waist? Bodies close, but not touching?” I lifted my head up enough so I could meet her eyes and, in a louder voice, said, “Don’t stay on your feet for too long—you’re still limping.”

She didn’t look like she was going to say anything, so I pushed a little more.

“Can you at least say goodbye to your husband?”

“Uh…I should, shouldn’t I? Goodbye?”

After wishing a good day to everyone who didn’t have the decency to mind their own business, I left.

Yes, practice was good.