Page 5 of Our Big White Lie
She tried to defend it some more, but I wasn’t listening. I wasn’t interested. I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom. It was tempting to slam the door out of fury, but by the time I got there, my anger had died away to hurt.
I shut the door gently and leaned against it as I tried to hold back tears. What was wrong with her? She was my best friend in the world, and she thought… she thought we shouldlieto mymom?Put on a fake wedding and then—what? Tell everyone afterward, “Nah, we just made it all up to make Mom happy”?
What the hell kind of persondidthat?
I managed to avoid Tori for the rest of the night, and thank God I left for work before she even got out of bed. I was mad the whole way through my morning routine and my commute. It was a miracle I’d slept, but then again, I’d spent the evening crying off and on, and that had worn me out.
A few times, I’d thought I was overreacting. Like yeah I was going to say hell no to her suggestion, but maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as I was making it. And then I’d tell myself, no, I was probablyunderreacting and maybe it was time to live with someone else.
This morning, I didn’t know what to feel. I’d been on an emotional hair trigger ever since Mom was diagnosed threeyears ago, and that was only getting worse. So… overreacting was always a possibility. At the same time, I’d never known Tori to come up with something as bugfuck insane as pretending to get married so my mom could see me as a bride. I might as well go as a bride for Halloween and say,“Look, Mom! You got your wish!”
Eww. No. My mom deserved better than that crap.
I must’ve been wearing my pile of emotions on my sleeve, because as soon as I walked into the office, my cubemate, Molly, straightened.
“Whoa,” she said. “You had a rough weekend, didn’t you?”
I dropped into my desk chair. “Kind of, yeah?”
Her forehead creased. “Is your mom okay?”
I wondered if I’d ever get used to this normal—where if I was sad or upset, people immediately assumed Mom had taken a turn. Not because they were asking about her instead of me, but because in this timeline where I was living, most emotional roads led back to how slowly and cruelly cancer was taking away my mom.
Seriously… fuck cancer.
I sighed and put my coffee cup beside my keyboard. “She’s doing okay. But…” I hesitated. Everything wanted to come tumbling out, but I was at work, not with my friend.
Not with Tori. Who tirelessly listened whenever everything took its toll and I couldn’t handle it anymore. Was that why I was so mad? Because this stupid plan she’d suggested felt like she’d yanked that rug out from under me? Like I couldn’t go to her anymore because she’d respond with something like…that?
Molly took her own seat and looked right at me. “Tell me, hon. What’s going on?”
Well, it wasn’t like I’d be able to focus on work until I got it off my chest, so… fine. I’d owe her one.
I told her what I’d overheard Mom saying at the bridal shower, followed by Tori’s ridiculous suggestion last night.
I couldn’t help making a face. “I’m just so—I mean, what the hell is shethinking?”
“It’s not… Honestly, it’s not a terrible idea.”
I gaped at Molly. “What?”
She shrugged, her tone and expression sympathetic. “What if youdidmarry Tori? No one but the two of you have to know that it was just an act. It’ll make your mom happy.” She inclined her head. “It’ll make you feel less guilty.”
My spine straightened. “Less guilty? About what?”
Molly rolled her eyes, though her tone stayed soft. “Hon. I can read you like a book. You’re upset that cancer is taking away your mom and your mom’s dream, but you also feel guilty that you haven’t fulfilled that dream for her.”
“No, I don’t!” I insisted. “I don’t feel—I mean, I’m not going to just get married so she can…” I trailed off as my stomach knotted with, yep, guilt. Shoulders sagging, I leaned back against my chair. “Okay. Okay, fine. I do. But I’ll feel even guiltier if I’m lying!” I flailed a hand. “How is pretending to get married better than… Just—how?”
Molly shrugged again. “Well, let’s walk through it.” She started ticking the points off on her fingers. “She already adores Tori. Nobody on the planet would be even a little bit surprised if the two of you got engaged.”
My cheeks burned suddenly.
Molly wasn’t done. “Your mom would get to do all the things the mother of the bride gets to do. She’d get tobethe mother of the bride. And when she passes away, she’ll believe you’re happily married to the woman of your dreams.”
A lump rose in my throat. She wasn’t wrong. Mother-of-the-bride dreams notwithstanding, Mom would be over the moon if I ever told her I was marrying Tori. She’d told me time andtime again since I was little that I was better off alone than with the wrong person, and to never, ever rush into a committed relationship. At the same time, Molly was right—Mom would be thrilled to believe I had found the right person. That I was happily married.
Getting to see me as a bride would bring her joy. Knowing I was with someone I loved and wanted to be with forever—that would bring her peace.
