Page 72 of Beyond the Stroke

I unwrap the breakfast burrito and hand it to him. Maintaining his grip on the fishing pole, he takes the burrito with his free hand.

“Bless you, Summer.”

I pull another burrito out of my bag and we eat in silence for a minute.

“Fish biting today?”

“Nah, but I like the ritual of it.”

I nod. I get that.

“Plans later?” Cal asks.

“Um, yeah. I’m getting married.”

Cal chokes on a bite of his burrito so I whack him on the back. It would figure that the news that I’m getting married would nearly kill him. Marriage is like a death sentence.

He eyes my unkempt hair and baggy t-shirt with utter confusion. He can’t even see the remnants of eye makeup from last night that’s hidden beneath my sunglasses.

“Like that?” he asks. “I’m not up on all the trends you kids are into but even I know that’s not wedding attire.”

“I don’t subscribe to the patriarchal belief that I need to look my best on this day. The man who wants to marry me should accept me for me, no matter what I look like.”

Or maybe it’s because after years of putting so much effort into everything I did only to be met with indifference, the desire to try where a man is concerned has vanished.

That’s why I’d laid out the rules for me and Rory’s marriage: no feelings, no intimacy, no complications.

It’s what I want, and Rory agreed without hesitation.

It should be a relief. Itisa relief.

Yet, there’s a flicker of something I didn’t expect. Something sharp and unwelcome curling in my chest.

At one particularly insightful moment, I’d even labeled it.

Disappointment.

Disappointment that Rory didn’t push back. That despite our constant reassurance that we’re just friends, it was the proof in that moment that he didn’t want me. The same way my ex hadn’t.

It might seem ridiculous for me to compare Rory and my ex, they’re not the same, but it was a reminder that I won’t put myself in that situation again. A situation that made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Constantly bending myself to fit into his version of who I should be to earn affection and prove my worth.

With Rory, I’m getting what I asked for, and I should be glad he didn’t try to negotiate our arrangement. It would only make things messy.

So, I push the niggling feeling away.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” he asks.

“Rory Shields.”

Under the shade of his brimmed hat, Cal’s smile spreads. “I had a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling? Did it involve heart palpitations and shallow breathing?”

Cal ignores my comment. “Seeing you two together made me miss Mildred.”

She passed away five years ago, and she was the light of Cal’s life.

No one’s ever been that important to me. Except Scarlett.

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