Page 69 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“I feel good. It was a solid synopsis, even though it’s a cold case, and who knows? Maybe we’ll end up with some leads on the tip line that we can pass along and finally find out where Molly Gray has been all these years.”
“I meant about Wyatt,” she says. “It’s been weeks since you got back. You don’t sleep, you barely eat, the bags under your eyes have bags, you look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks. Nothing like a pep talk from my bestie.”
“Come on, you have to see him soon for the wedding. What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean, what am I going to do? I’m going to go to the wedding. Celebrate my brother’s happy day,” I say.
“Did Wyatt get the annulment papers yet?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I could ask the attorney, but I haven’t.”
“Is this really what you want?”
“An annulment? Yes.”
“Okay.” She sounds doubtful.
“What?” I ask.
“Whatwhat?”
“Why do you sound like that?”
“Like what?” she asks. She’s purposely evading me, and she knows it.
“Like you don’t think I really want an annulment.”
“Because I don’t think you do. Look at you, you’re a mess.”
“If I didn’t want one, I wouldn’t get one,” I say.
“Okay.” She sounds the same.
“Stop it!”
“Stop what?” She smirks. “One of us needs to be honest to you, and it’s obviously not going to be you.”
“God, you’re annoying sometimes.” I leave the office and head to my room, slamming the door after me. I’m notthatmad. And I’ll probably apologize to her soon. It’s just that everything involving Wyatt is complicated and frustrating, and I hate that.
My phone lies on my bed, with the message light blinking rapidly. I know there’s at least one message from the attorney and another from my brother. The attorney is leaving me an update on the paperwork, I’m sure, I just haven’t listened to it yet. But I don’t know what my brother is going to say. It’s the third time he’s called me since we’ve been back, but the first time he’s left a message.
I know my brother. I'm sure he didn’t leave a message the first two times because he’s calling about Wyatt. There’s no way Wyatt didn’t tell Blake everything that has happened to this point. I texted Blake early on asking him not to tell anyone about my wedding. Or annulment. Especially not our parents. They are the last people I need to know I did this. My mom will say I was trying to upstage Blake. And my dad will be upset that he didn’t get to walk his little girl down the aisle.
For their sake, when and if I ever get married (again,) there will need to be a ceremony not officiated by a comic-book villain and witnessed by a Wookie. And I’ll be expected to wear a dress and include lots of celebratory grandeur and tradition.
I haven’t heard from Wyatt at all since I got back. I’m disappointed and relieved. I probably would have gone running back to him if he’d called me that first day. Or even the first few days.
But as the days have gone by, I’ve continued to remind myself why I left in the first place. It’s not even really about the plan any longer. I was right in what I told him in my note. It won’t work. Wouldn’t have worked. Can’t work. Whatever.
It’s impossible that a marriage based on winning a scavenger hunt could be viable. Not only that, but we were also stoned, maybe a little drunk, andin full competition mode against Pete and Amy. Every reason not to do it was pretty much why we chose to do it.
Talk about a clusterfuck of poor decisions in epic proportions.
I dream about him every night. It was bad enough before Vegas, and it’s worse now. There’s no way I can go through my whole life longing for a man I don’t get to keep for my own, right? I mean, I’m barely twenty-three now. That’s not so long to have been in love with someone from afar. I’ve wanted him since I reached puberty. He annihilated my soul at eighteen. They say it takes the same amount of time to get over someone as it did to love them.
