Page 30 of Married to Her Yeti
A whirlwind of emotion overwhelmed Nima, and he turned off the TV. It hadn’t been holding his attention tonight anyway, not when thoughts of Mari preoccupied his mind. Reconnecting with her filled him with immense gratitude and deep sorrow. They’d missed so much of each other’s lives. Heshould feel excited about their future and a fresh start. After all, she was back in his life now. So why wasn’t he happy? Why had dark clouds settled over him?
Nima stood and walked to the kitchen island, eyes locked on the water-stained manila envelope. He reached around his neck and unclipped the chain with their wedding bands. They clinked against one another as he closed the clasp and set them on the counter. Then, only two days after learning they’d been married, he began the solemn task of understanding their divorce paperwork.
Mari layin bed staring at her phone. After a medium-sized earthquake had woken her, her first thought had been of Nima. She’d immediately wanted to comfort him and ask if he was okay, only afterward realizing the vagueness of her question.
His response was equally vague. Did he mean he’d be okay when his heart stopped racing? After the aftershocks slowed? Or had he interpreted her question to be aboutthemand everything they’d recently learned about each other?
Mari felt the same aboutthem. One day shewould be okay, wouldn’t she? Even if she was positively heartsick right now. She’d insisted she only wanted his friendship, so why was she so upset? And why was she relieved he was nearby? Tseten’s place wasn’t far at all. When Nima had left her house earlier, she’d worried he’d started the long drive to Denali.
Mari winced at the ache in her ribs as she slung back her blanket and reached for her crutches. She’d slept for hours, her body demanding rest to heal and her heart needing an escape from the confusing emotions spiraling through her. But right now she’d focus on her growling stomach and throbbing ankle. She’d missed a meal and a dose of pain pills.
She hobbled to the bathroom and took care of business, emerging to realize the only lights on in the house were those on the small Christmas tree. They should have looked magical, but the sparkle dimmed without Nima. Would it take another ten years for her heart to recover from the last two days?
Kat lay fast asleep on the couch. After hours spent traveling back from Maui, her sister had to be exhausted. Too bad. Mari lightly poked her with the end of a crutch and smiled, her glum mood lifting a little with the opportunity to prod her little sister. “Move over,” she said. “Injured lady needs to sit.”
Kat blinked her eyes open, then quickly folded her legs under herself to make room. She reached over and turned on a lamp before picking up her phone. “Oh my god. It’s nine p.m. We practically slept through Christmas Eve.”
If Nima had been there, Mari would have been disappointed about that. As it was, she didn’t care much.Ba, humbug.
“Did we miss your meds?” Kat asked, rubbing her eyes.
“Yeah, I should have taken something by now. My ankle is throbbing. Could you heat dinner for me first? It’s better to take pain pills with food.” She didn’t tell her sister thathercaretaking wasn’t as good as Nima’s. He’d set alarms on his phone for Mari’s meds, arranged groceries, made her meals, helped her bathe, and fed her at regular intervals. He’d selflessly doted on her, despite that she’d cut off all communication with him ten years ago. Her throat dried at the thought.
“Of course,” Kat said. “Which pizza do you want?”
Pizza didn’t sound appetizing anymore. “I’d like leftover lentil soup, please.”
“You’re not going to have pizza?” Kat asked, frowning. “It’s your tradition.”
“Maybe later.” Kat glanced at her phone and gave Mari a skeptical look. Given the time, they both knew Mari wasn’t likely to eat any pizza after a hearty bowl of soup, especially considering she’d probably go back to bed afterward.
To her credit, Kat delivered the soup on a tray with warm bread, then helped Mari elevate her injured ankle. Once Kat was situated cross-legged on the other end of the couch with a plate full of pizza, she said, “Okay, dish. What happened? How the heck did Nima, of all people, end up here? And how are you, both physically,” she gestured at Mari’s leg with a slice, “and emotionally? If I had known the truck in your driveway was Nima’s, I might haveaccidentallysmashed one of his headlights.”
Mari dropped her spoon as Kat aggressively bit into her pizza. “Please don’t,” Mari begged. “Nima has been nothing but kind and helpful over the last two days. He doesn’t deserve your attitude—or threats.” She sometimes worried about her sister’s vindictiveness. Kat was so ready to protect those she loved at any cost.
“He destroyed you, Mari. You didn’t even visit Alaska for over a year after that.”
Mari let out a heavy sigh, her eyes welling with tears. “Yeah, well, turns out I destroyed him, too.”
Kat slowly swallowed, then set her plate on the side table and took Mari’s hand in both of hers. “What do you mean? What actually happened?”
A sob choked out of Mari, and Kat moved Mari’s food tray to the coffee table before wrapping her in a hug.
Mari winced in pain. “Too tight,” she breathed. “I’ve got bruised ribs.” She sniffled as Kat loosened her arms. “Hurts to cry, too.”
“Bruised ribs? Oh my god, Mari—there’s so much I need you to tell me.” Her sister sighed. “If you want to share.”
It was such a complex story. “Where do I start?”
“At the beginning? Why did you and Nima break up in the first place?”
Mari sucked in a shallow breath. “Quick version—Nima and I got married in Nevada.”
Kat blinked. Then blinked again. “Legally married?” When Mari nodded, Kat said, “I have so many questions. But Mari, this is not softening my anger toward Nima. He’s been your husband all this time?”
“He didn’t realize we were married until I asked for a divorce.”
“How could he not fucking know?”
