Page 71 of Six Month Wife
“Thanks,” I say finally. I lean in to kiss him. I'm not sure why, and I know no one is watching. But it seems right.
“Mmm. That was nice,” he says, squeezing my hand.”
I force another smile and do my best to quiet all of the noise in my head. “Ready to go?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he says, grabbing his keys.
We head to his car, the sound of our footsteps on the pavement filling the silence. I glance at him as he unlocks the doors, his calm confidence a sharp contrast to the storm brewing inside me.
As we drive to the Palm Beach Club, I stare out the window, watching the scenery blur past. The landscape is beautiful in the golden light of the setting sun, but I can’t bring myself to appreciate it.
Parker tries to make conversation, but I’m too preoccupied to contribute much. He doesn’t push, giving me space to gather my thoughts.
My nerves are coiled so tight I can barely breathe. Evelyn’s rejection is still rattling around in my chest, bruising everything it touches. And now I have to smile, act like nothing’s wrong, and convince some stranger that this entire marriage isn’t a lie.
Parker glances over, his hand brushing mine. “Hey,” he says gently. “We’re a team, remember?”
I nod with a tight throat.
“You’re right. We’ve got this.”
But as we walk toward the doors, my smile frozen in place, one thought won’t let go.
If I can’t sell this, it’s not Parker’s inheritance on the line.
It’s my dignity, my brand, and everything I’ve pretended isn’t already slipping through my fingers.
And the worst part is, I’m not even sure which loss would hurt more.
20
Parker
“So,”I say, breaking the momentary silence. “Let’s go over everything one more time. Just so we’re perfectly aligned.”
Her head turns slightly, but she doesn’t say anything at first. “You know my mantra, Parker. The best path is always straightforward. Stick to our real story, how we had one night of debauchery as strangers, then ran into each other again in the hospital. And we both saw floating hearts and forever love. Keep it clean and easy.”
“We’ll stick with the truth where we can,” I say, adjusting the cuff of my shirt. “Miami’s real. One night, one hell of a connection, then poof, we go our separate ways. Don’t you think we need some more lovey-dovey details? To nail it home?”
Adair shakes her head slowly. “I don’t. The universe does its thing, drops us both in Palm Beach like a cosmic matchmaking app, and wala. Easy peasy.”
“Hmm. Not sure that easy is the word I’d use, but okay,” I say. “We run into each other at the hospital. I recognize you immediately, because how could I not?”
She smirks. “That’s because I was yelling at you.”
“Details, details. Let’s say sparks flew and leave out the snarky ER determination.”
“They did,” she says, cocking her head, a little smirk tugging at her mouth. “Mostly from my eyeballs. Directed at your smug face.”
I grin and ignore her especially acidic humor. “And from there, we started seeing each other.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “So, when do we say we reconnected?”
I think for a beat. “Two weeks before Roger passed. That gives us enough time to be believable without needing a year of fake anniversaries and backlogged Instagram posts."
"Smart."
"I think in the world today, a whirlwind romance is possible. It's critical, though, to place it before his death, not afterwards. That would raise more questions about motive.”
