Page 92 of That Reilly Boy
Once I’ve gathered a decent amount of food that doesn’t come in a cereal box, I get in line and wait for my turn to load everything onto the squeaky conveyor belt.
“Well hello, Mrs. Reilly,” Shawna says as she scans my first item. “How’s married life?”
Lonely. “It’s wonderful. How are you doing?”
“Isn’t it hard with Hayden gone all the time?” I’m not surprised she totally ignored my attempt to turn the conversation to her. “Living in two different states can’t be easy.”
Curiosity wrapped in concern. There’s a reason Shawna always has the best gossip. I shrug. “By working in the city four days, he gets to spend a full three-day weekend here with me. If he commuted every day, we’d actually have less quality time together because he’d spend so much time in his car.”
“Will he keep doing that when you start a family?”
My breath catches, not only because the question isn’t even remotely subtle, but because a scene of what could be flashes through my mind. Hayden. Me. Babies. Dogs. The house restored to its glorious former self.
But none of that is going to happen. At some point in the future, I’m going to come in to buy more cereal and Shawna will be bemoaning my divorce and fishing for details on what went wrong.
“We just got married,” I remind her, and I can feel the tightness in my smile. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Of course,” she says, rallying as I shove my debit card into the reader. “I hope you enjoy your weekend.”
My weekend of separate bedrooms and Hayden making lists of what needs to be done around the house—which is pretty much everything. He hasn’t given me a timeline for when strangers will be showing up to start tearing the house apart. I’m not sure if it’s out of respect for the fact it’s currently my home, or because we haven’t put much of a dent in emptying it out yet. Probably a little bit of both.
I’m putting the groceries in my trunk when a familiar voice calls my name. “Cara!”
Emily, Mel’s mom, is heading my way and I brace myself for another round of pretending I’m doing great and sure, this is totally the way I saw my life playing out. My mom in a shiny new house. My fake husband and his dog in his shiny Boston apartment. And me, alone in the shabby house at the center of it all.
“I have no time,” Emily says, clearly in a hurry. “But I’m so glad I ran into you. It’s good to see you, honey.”
“It’s good to see you, too. I’ve been busy with the house and all. Trying to…sort stuff.”
“I heard you successfully pried Gin out of that house, and I want to hear all about it. You should come for dinner Saturday night. Mel and Lucas will be there, and we’ve barely seen you and Hayden since the wedding.”
I wince, guilt warming my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’ve been?—”
“Oh, honey!” Emily rests her hand on my forearm. “Of course you’ve been busy. You’re a newlywed and you’re supposed to disappear into your own bubble of bliss.”
I wouldn’t exactly call it a bliss bubble. I spend most of the time I’m not at Pampered Pets alone, sorting through stuff in the house and garage to give Gin a head start by pulling whatever is obviously junk. So far I’ve made two trips to the dump without her finding out.
“So Saturday, about four o’clock? We’ll visit a while and then throw some burgers and dogs on the grill. Nothing fancy.”
I should probably ask Hayden, but I’ve missed the Pearsons, and I nod. “Can I bring anything?”
“Just your handsome hubby! And his cute little dog, of course.” She kisses my cheek. “I have to run now because I still have to get to Shelly’s and get another damned cactus.”
“Is this Harry 8.0? Or 9.0?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve lost track. I swear, I never should have started this. But we’ll see you Saturday, okay?”
It isn’t until later, when I’m eating a grilled chicken salad for one alone at the kitchen table, that I admit to myself the real reason I’m looking forward to eating with Mel and her parents.
Come Saturday, we’ll have another situation during which we’ll masquerade as newlyweds. Hayden will smile at me, and hold my hand. He’ll rest his hand at the small of my back in that way he does. He might even kiss me.
I don’t care if he’s pretending. It won’t be long before we begin the process of looking as though our hasty marriage is crumbling, and I’ll take every minute in the bliss bubble I can get.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Hayden
I’m late getting back to Sumac Falls Thursday night. A meeting ran long. Taylor insisted I sign off on some reports before I could leave for the weekend, which meant reading them all. And an accident tied up traffic on the highway in a place there was no jumping off to take back roads.
