Page 36 of Our Big White Lie
“How fast did you drive?” I asked as I let him in.
“As fast as I needed to after your SOS.” He studied me, concern written all over his face. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”
I sighed and shut the door behind us. “It’s about Ava and me. The wedding.”
His eyes went huge. “Okay. What about? You two aren’t canceling it, are you?”
“No, we’re…” I chewed my lip and avoided his gaze.
Marco touched my arm. “Wait, are you getting cold feet or something?”
“No. No, it’s not that. I…” I pushed out a breath. “Let’s sit on the couch. Do you want something to drink?”
His brow pinched. “I’ll answer that after I know if this is a Chardonnay conversation or a tequila conversation.”
I laughed halfheartedly. “I don’t even know, to be honest.”
“Well, let’s sit down then, because I am already worried.” He turned me by the shoulders and led me to the couch, where we both sat down.
Tucker, of course, hopped up immediately and flopped down in my lap. He purred and kneaded, and I couldn’t decide if he was oblivious to my emotional turmoil or if he was trying to help. It did help a little; a purring cat didn’t solve much, but it was hard not to feel atinybit better.
“So…” Marco twisted toward me, pulling his knee up on the cushion between us. “What’s going on?”
I sighed, watching myself scratch behind Tucker’s ear. The only way I was going to get any actual useful advice was if I told Marco the truth. Thewholetruth.
Swallowing hard, I met his gaze. “Promise me that nothing leaves this room. Nobody can know. I shouldn’t even be telling you.”
His eyes got wider and wider with every word. “Of—of course, hon.” He pressed his elbow onto the back of the couch and nodded solemnly. “I’m a steel trap—you know that.”
“I know you are. And I trust you. I just… This can’t get out to anyone. Ever.”
Marco could usually be trusted to liven up a moment like this with a little joke, and I would’ve been grateful for that. Like I fully expected him to put a hand to his chest and ask if I’d knocked Ava up or something, and then I could collapse into laughter that would help me breathe again.
But he didn’t make a joke this time. He was unusually serious, and that made this whole conversation feel evenheavier. He had no idea what I was about to say, but he already understood how significant it was, and that didn’t make it any easier to go on.
I took a deep breath and quietly confessed, “The wedding isn’t real.”
“The—I’m sorry,what?”
I swept my tongue across my lips as I looked at him through my lashes. “Me and Ava—we’re not getting married. Not really.”
He stared at me as if I’d just spoken in another language. As if none of the words that had tumbled out of my mouth made a bit of sense.
I didn’t imagine that was going to get much better, but I’d already started, so there was no point in stopping.
I ran my hand through my hair and told him the story. I explained everything, from the moment Ava had overheard her mom at the bridal shower, to my harebrained idea, to… well, I didn’t tell him about when we’d kissed. About how it had been just for practice, but my emotions had gone all haywire. I’d brought him here because I was freaking out over all these feelings I had for Ava, but now that I was spelling everything out, I kept those cards closer to my vest. I wasn’t even sure why.
The whole time I was talking, his expression morphed from puzzled to startled to staring at me like I’d grown another head. It was almost comical, especially since he was not an easy person to catch off guard. It also made me feel even shittier because Marco—one of my two best friends in the world—had truly bought this whole charade about me marrying myotherbest friend. I felt guilty for lying to him, and even guiltier for ever suggesting this idea in the first place.
By the time I’d made it through the whole story, I was crying. I wanted to tell him how conflicted I felt about all this and how real it all felt, but shame kept those words lodged in my throat. Or maybe it was fear, because I was terrified he’d make me lookthose feelings in the eye, give them a name, and—worse—tell Ava about them.
So I just left it at how conflicted I was over faking this wedding. And that was true to some extent; for all the altruistic reasons we were doing this, I did still feel weird about the lies and the secrecy. Maybe letting off some of that pressure by telling Marco would help? I didn’t even know anymore.
“Oh, honey.” Marco slid closer and hugged me, careful not to squish Tucker between us. “No wonder you’re so stressed about all of this.”
“Right? I don’t know what to do now.” I wiped my eyes. “But… that’s where we are. We’re neck-deep in planning this wedding, and…” I sighed as I petted Tucker. “Am I a terrible person?”
Marco blinked, apparently caught by surprise once again. “A terrible person? Why? Why would you even think that?”
