Page 89 of Starrily
“For the last time, I don’t know you, and we’re not married!” Simon looked at Callie. “Do you think I’d lie about something like this? Even better—do you think I’d be able to keep it under wraps? If this woman is my wife, how come nobody else knows, and no one has ever mentioned her?”
He did have a point; and Callie wanted to think that was a good point because it was logical, not because she desperately wanted to believe it.
“It was a quick wedding. Just the two of us.” The woman cocked her head to the side. “And Elvis. Real name Ricardo—lovely man—”
“What about Stan? Why didn’t he remember you at the park?” Callie said.
“It’s an effect I have on people.” She lowered her eyes, then started rummaging through her knitted, patchwork bag. She pulled out a paper roll. “A-ha!” She unrolled the paper and flashed it first to Simon, then to Callie.
It was a marriage certificate, and it looked legitimate, even with the tacky golden border. Two names were scribbled onto it: Shanna O’Connell … and Simon Montague.
Callie swallowed and leaned on the door for support. It couldn’t be true.
“Obviously fake,” Simon said.
Maybe shewasa crazed enough fan to do it.
“And this?” The woman—Shanna, if that was her—pulled out a photograph. It was taken in a room with cream-colored walls, with a flower arch in the background. In the front were an Elvis impersonator, Shanna … and Simon, sprayed with golden confetti. His hair was styled differently, but he was easily recognizable.
Callie’s knees buckled.
Simon tore the picture out of Shanna’s hands. “No. No, no.” He shook his head wildly.
“Remember now?” Shanna asked.
“Of course I don’t remember, it never—” Simon suddenly stopped as if struck by lightning. “How long ago was this?”
“A bit over three years.”
Simon raked his fingers through his hair, then leaned his forehead on the wall and punched it. “Shit. Shit,shit.”
Shanna looked at Callie questioningly.
“Don’t ask me,” Callie said. “I don’t know him that well.” She thought she did. She thought he could’ve been the one, the soulmate, the kindred spirit. He made her believe, and she was willing to let the fears go and open her heart.
What an idiot she’d been.
Simon rolled over, still leaning on the wall. “It’s not me.”
“Really? That’s the best you can come up with?” Callie said.
“It’s true. I just don’t know how to explain it in a way that would make sense, and you’d believe me.”
“Good luck on that,” Callie muttered.
“My accident. The car crash. It was three years ago.”
“I know,” Shanna said.
Simon and Callie both snapped their heads to her.
“You know?” Simon said.
“I found out. I … well, there’s no easy way to explain this, either.” Shanna wrung her hands.
“I don’t have the time for all of this,” Callie said. “So why don’t you two try, and I don’t care how convincing it is—as long as you’re done with it so I can leave.”
Simon waved his hand in the air. “Ladies first.”
