Page 38 of Axe-identally Married
But I was working on it, improving myself and figuring out my shit. This marriage was a wake-up call, and I was answering it.
So I dug out a suit, one of many from my hockey days that had gone unused for the past two years.
Putting it on was strange. It was a bit baggy, which was yet another reminder to step it up in the gym. With that reminder came a flood of negative thoughts about how I’d gone from robust pro athlete to pathetic schlub in record time.
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed the negative thoughts to recede. Not tonight. I could spiral later, after I’d met Willa’s parents.
In the living room, I sat on the couch, waiting for Willa, with the bouquet I’d picked up on the coffee table in front of me. The moment she had come home from work, she’d run into her room to change.
The pressure was on. She’d made no secret of how much she loved and admired her parents, and I wanted to impress them. It was unlikely, of course, but that didn’t change my desire to show them that I’d be a good husband to their daughter.
I was fighting the panic when her bedroom door creaked open. And when she stepped out, all the air escaped my lungs.
She was wearing a soft green sweater over a short black skirt with tights. The look was classy and beautiful while displaying every one of her curves. Her blond hair was down around her shoulders, and her lush lips were glossy.
“Are you wearing a suit?”
I forced air into my lungs so I could respond. “Yes.” I stood, brushing off my thighs. “We’re going to meet your parents, so I want to make a good impression.”
Her lips quirked up teasingly. “You know my parents.”
“Yeah, your dad tortured me with flu shots when I was a kid, but this is different.”
She sashayed to the coat closet by the door and shrugged on her coat, then tied the belt thingy. Even under the thick wool, the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts were prominent.
God, I shouldn’t be salivating over my wife like I was. We had a partnership, an arrangement.
She had been far kinder to me than I deserved, so I would do the same.
I’d be the best goddamn fake husband on this planet. But first, I had to stop staring at her.
The Savards metus at the doorway of their boxy grand colonial with a brick front and a tree-lined driveway.
“Dr. Savard,” I said, shaking the man’s hand.
He was smaller and more frail than I remembered. He had been a fixture in my life since birth. A strapping man with thick silver hair and a wide smile. He was much thinner now, and his shoulders were stooped as he leaned on a cane.
“And Dr. Lahey-Savard,” I said, bending to give Willa’s mother a kiss on the cheek. She was short and plump, with big green eyes and a neat blond bob. When I straightened, I handed her the bouquet.
“Please call me Susan,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “And come inside. It’s freezing out here.”
Willa had her arm around her father as we entered the house. “How are you feeling?” she asked as Susan led us into the living room.
“Been better,” he said with a wave of his right hand. “This one still isn’t back up to snuff, but we’ll get there.”
Willa gave him a warm smile. “Have you been doing the physical therapy exercises?”
“Yes,” he huffed. “Your mother makes me every day. And trust me, I’m not enjoying it.”
She patted his hand, her eyes dancing with mirth. “Good.”
The interior of the Savards’ home was spotless but homey. In the middle of the room stood an upright piano covered with framed photos of the three of them. As I got closer, I studied each image. There were several graduation photos of Willa, and in each one, she wore a different type of gown. Damn, how many degrees did she have?
The three of them on skis, playing tennis, and snorkeling.
They looked every bit the happy, loving family.
My chest ached with a jealousy I knew wasn’t fair. But my own family had been a shit show my entire life. My mother had taken off to Florida years ago, and aside from an occasional phone call, I had no contact with her. She hadn’t shown interest in my life when I was a kid, and it only diminished more after I’d grown up.
