Page 42 of The Run Option

I don’t tease her about calling me her husband, or for being nice to me. Tonight I simply want to soak up the joy she’s emanating and hold on to the hope that my future wife might be starting to like me.

Chapter nineteen

Willow Delmont

It’s my wedding day.

I stare at myself in the hotel bathroom mirror, looking different and yet the same as yesterday. My eyes are the same color, though made more prominent by the soft smokey eye makeup I did. My face is the same shape, lips the same too, except for the soft rose shade I painted on to them. There’s nothing inherently different about me, but I feel as though something has shifted.

My hand starts to shake with nerves, so I set down the makeup brush. The handle clinks against the marble countertop.

Jason booked us a suite in the Grand Bohemian Hotel for the weekend. Thankfully, it has two rooms, so we don’t have to worry about one of us sleeping on the couch or the floor. There’s no way I’m sharing abedwith him.

“You can do this,” I whisper to my reflection. “It’s just a few words in front of an officiant, then some photos. That’s all.”

I make a face and groan. No matter how I try to paint this, it still looks very much like marriage. The diamond on my fingeris real, the minister is ordained, and the marriage license we got from the courthouse yesterday is as authentic as it gets. So even though Jason and I aren’t in love, this marriage is as real as any other.

“You okay in there, Lo?” Jason’s voice comes through the door, slightly muffled.

My stomach swoops. “I’m fine, just putting on some finishing touches.”

“Take your time. I was just checking on you.”

Fading footsteps let me know he’s walked away. I take in a deep breath and blow it out. My gaze snags on the wedding dress hanging on the back of the tall bathroom door. It’s a beautiful dress. Strapless and satin, with a slit that shows off the heels I bought to wear with it.

When I tried it on a few days ago, Granny told me I had to buy it or else she’d pitch a fit in the middle of the boutique. I’d quickly told the saleswoman to ring it up, but not because of Granny’s threat. No, I’d purchased it to simply get it off my body as quickly as possible. The emotions I felt while looking in the mirror were overwhelming. Tears stung the backs of my eyes and my throat grew tight. My smile was shaky at best when Granny demanded a photo to send to my parents.

I’m afraid to put it on again now, afraid that I’ll feel…something. All I want is to be numb and indifferent toward this whole day. But ever since I woke up this morning, the same feelings I had in the bridal shop have come back in full force. I’m on edge, and I’ve avoided Jason not just all day, but all week.

After we got back from the Alamanda game, I told him I needed to focus on packing up my apartment and sorting out wedding details. He offered to help, but I refused. The only things we’ve discussed are what color tux he should wear–classic black–and what kind of cake he wants–red velvet. This morning he tried to talk to me, but I went and locked myself in thebathroom stating that I needed all day to get ready. Obviously, that’s not true. But I did my best to pretend it was. I soaked in the tub until my fingertips resembled raisins. Then I got a shower and washed my hair, and even did a hair mask. That didn’t kill very much time, so I sat in one of the chairs in front of the oversized vanity and scrolled on Pinterest until my eyes were fatigued from staring at my screen for so long.

The only time I opened the door was to grab the sandwich Jason had picked up for lunch for me. I mumbled a quiet 'thank you' and locked the gold doorknob behind me.

But now my time is up, in more ways than one. I need to put on that dress and walk out of here ready to become a married woman. I can’t look as terrified as I feel. Every moment for the rest of today will be caught on camera. Brock told us we needed wedding photos to make this thing look planned instead of last minute, so Jason gave me his credit card to hire the best photographer I could find on such short notice.

My phone buzzes on the vanity. I open up a group text thread the photographer has started with Jason and me.

Soleil: I’m on the staircase! Jason, if you could go ahead and meet me down here, that would be great. Willow, once you’re ready, just text me that you’re heading down so I can have my camera ready for your first look!

My heart starts to race as I read the message. I swallow, my throat sticking.

Jason: Sounds great, thanks, Soleil. I’ll be down in a minute.

A knock on the door startles me. My phone clatters to the floor.

“I’m heading down,” Jason says.

I walk to the door, tempted to open it. I hate how I’ve treated him today. He’s done so much for me, but I’m so anxious I don’teven know if I’ll be able to look him in the eye. I place my hand on the knob and hesitate.

“I don’t want to leave without knowing you’re okay.” His voice sounds closer, as if he’s leaning against the door.

“I’m scared,” I confess.

“It’s okay to be scared, but you should know you aren’t in this alone. I’ll take care of you, Lo, if you’ll let me.”

Tears spring to my eyes. His words feel like a vow, though we aren’t in front of the minister. I’m starting to see that Jason is a man of his word. He might have a reputation for flirting and forgetting, but that’s not who he’s been since we met for the second time.

My stomach turns as I recall what he said at the beach about not keeping secrets. Suddenly, I feel as though I’m in the wrong for not telling him what he doesn’t remember. I know it’s not my fault he forgot, but it feels like this big looming balloon of secrets is hanging right over my head, and eventually it’s going to burst.

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