Page 30 of One Pucking Heart

“What do you mean, it’s a good thing? I was home a few weeks ago, and you couldn’t stand the guy, and now you’re marrying him? It doesn’t make any sense. This isn’t you. You’re not flippant or reckless when it comes to relationships. You would never jump into a marriage this quickly. Make it make sense, Ma.”

I swallow. “Well… um… well…” I struggle to come up with the right words, but I have no idea what to say because she’s right. It doesn’t make sense, and it’s not me. I just can’t tell her that.

Beckett takes my hand under the table and squeezes before addressing Ari. “We know it’s fast, and it seems strange, but it’s something we both really want.”

My daughter ignores Beckett and addresses me. “You literally just lectured me about not adopting a dog too hastily, and you’re promising yourself to someone for life? After what, a two-week courtship?” She holds the sides of her head and shakes it back and forth. “I don’t know how to respond. I want to support you, Ma. You know I love you and want you to be happy, but this doesn’t seem right. Are you in trouble?”

“Ari, no. I’m not in trouble. I’m safe and happy. I moved in with Beckett, and this is the next step. Things are good. This may seem rushed, but sometimes when you see the right path before you, you take it. This is my path.” Everything I’ve said is true, and I lean on the thin fabric of semantics to hold steadfast.

“It still doesn’t make sense to me, but if you’re happy, I’ll have the engagement to get used to it all before the wedding, I guess.” She pushes her uneaten bowl of fried ice cream away from her.

“We’re not really doing a big wedding. We’re going to the courthouse this week.” My muscles tense, waiting for more shrieks.

Ari does not disappoint. “This week!” she screams. “Ma, please blink twice if you need help.”

Beckett leaves his credit card with the bill and stands from the booth. “I’m going to give you two some privacy. Elena, please just grab my card when you leave. I’ll be in the car. Take as long as you need. Ari.” He looks at my daughter, who throws a serious glare his way. “I look forward to getting to know you more in the future. And… take care,” he says before making a beeline toward the exit.

“Take care?” Ari scoffs with disgust. “What a tool.”

“What do you expect him to say, Ari? You’re screaming at us in a restaurant. He’s probably a little uncomfortable.”

“He’s uncomfortable? You’ve got to be kidding me, Ma. You just dropped a major bomb on me. I don’t even have the words for you right now.” She points toward the restaurant exit door. “I get it. You’ve finally started your career, I’m out of the apartment, and you’re feeling free, but you don’t go and marry the first legal adult you work with.”

“Ari,” I warn.

She throws up her hands. “I know. I told you to go for it and have some fun. I didn’t mean you should marry the guy. He’s a child.”

“He’s twenty-seven… in a week. He’s not a child.”

“What’s the draw? Because he’s pretty? You can fool around with a guy without marrying him. This doesn’t make any sense.” She drops her face into her hands and groans.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know this is a lot to take. Please just trust me. Have I ever led you astray? I’ve always taken care of us, and I always will. Please trust me when I say this is something I need to do.”

“Do you love him?” Her voice cracks. “In two weeks’ time, have you fallen so in love with him that you want to spend the rest of your life with him?”

I swallow the emotion in my throat. “Yes, I love him.”

The flat-out lie rolls off my tongue, and I feel more shitty than ever.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BECKETT

I emerge from the kitchen with two wineglasses in hand just as Elena enters the living room. She’s wearing pajama pants and a baggy T-shirt, and her long, damp hair is up in a bun. Whatever soap or lotion she uses permeates the space, and I take a deep breath. She always smells completely intoxicating, a mixture of pineapple, honey, and Elena.

“You’re double-fisting it,” she asks. “After today, I don’t blame you.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, it’d be warranted for sure, but no. One of these is for you.”

She takes the glass of red wine from my outstretched hand and looks down at the table, her brows furrowing. “What’s all this?”

Motioning toward the poster board and markers, I say, “I thought—especially after the two very awful days we’ve had—it would be nice to remind us of why we’re doing this in the first place. Although, my reason didn’t take long.”

On top of the poster board, I wrote Elena. And it’s as simple as that for me. I’m doing this for her.

She stares at her name scrawled across the top of the board and holds her hand not occupied with wine to her chest. With a shake of her head, she blows out a breath. “I still don’t know why you’d do this for me.”

“We’re not going into that again.” I blow her off. We’ve discussed this at length. There is nothing else I can say to make her understand my reasons. But before we get married tomorrow, she needs to feel good about hers. “Take a seat. Pick a color. Let’s brainstorm all the good you’ll do with that money.”

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