Page 67 of Honeyed

“No, it’s not … I’m fine. It’s just seeing you is kind of awkward.”

My chest constricts with the weirdness she just planted out in the air between us. “Um, okay?”

Rebecca blanches. “Oh, God, I’m really making this worse, aren’t I? Shit. Uh, I’m just going to tell you because I feel horrible knowing this and not telling you. So here goes. I overhead Mr. Claus, you know that old football coach, telling people here tonight that you and Warren weren’t really married. Or that you married him for money or something. And that it wasn’t real. That Warren was a no-good snake trying to get in with your family for years.”

The awkwardness Rebecca put out is immediately erased by red-hot anger. “What the hell?”

I want to add why would he say that, but I don’t want to give it any more credence. No one knows about the terms of Arthur’s will, and Mr. Claus’s assessment is far enough away from what went down that I know he can’t know the truth, but still. If anyone finds out how Warren and I started, it will bring a whole lot of shit our way, not to mention stain my family’s reputation.

“I know, it’s totally out of left field and horrible. I don’t really know him like that, and overheard in passing, but I’ve had at least two other people at the drive-in ask me if I think it’s true. Of course, I immediately said no, you two are destined to be together. If anyone knows you, they know that. But I thought you should know what’s going around.” Rebecca looks sympathetic and guilty at the same time.

“Thanks for telling me.” I feel stunned and allow her to squeeze my shoulder in support. “It’s not true. At all. For the record.”

“Of course, we know that,” Kate cuts in, giving Rebecca a side-eye like maybe she shouldn’t have told me.

“What’s that?” Warren asks, and I hate that I’m about to wipe his smile off.

Turning to my husband, I deliver the blow. “Mr. Claus is here telling people we are faking our marriage and that I got with you for money.”

To his credit, Warren keeps a completely straight face, giving nothing away. Well, except for pure anger. “What the fuck?”

“I know.” We have to get somewhere private because one of us will do something dumb if we stay out here discussing this. The best way to squash a rumor like this in a small town is not to give the flames any fuel. What Claus wants is for Warren to go postal or something, to make himself look bad, and I won’t allow that to happen.

“Thanks for telling us. I hope you guys have a great rest of the night. The movie is a good one.” I give Kate and Rebecca an appreciative smile, then pull Warren back to the truck.

I’m sure they’re watching us go with sympathy and whispers, but I can’t worry about that right now.

As soon as we’re back in the truck, Warren slams his hand against the center console out of frustration. “I can’t believe he’s fucking messing with us. With you. Does the guy have nothing else to do? This small-town gossip has always driven me insane.”

“That piece of shit. He always had a fucking hard-on for making you suffer for some weird reason.” I ball up my fists like I’d hit him if he were in front of me.

Warren looks just as pissed off and nearly cracks a molar as he talks. “The asshole never went pro and hated that I was going to. Honestly, if I found out he vexed me so that I sustained the injury I did, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“And now he’s fucking with your reputation and our marriage.” I want to cry or maybe scream at the universe.

Just when we’re finally getting our footing, making this thing between us real.

“He can’t know any of this for sure. Honestly, Claus is probably just spouting bullshit and rumors because he hates me and is jealous. But it’s too dangerous that he’s almost hit the right mark. What the hell are we going to do?” Warren cups my face across the car, as if feeling my skin will bring him comfort.

“Nothing. We’re not going to do anything.” The idea is so clear in my mind. “Stooping to his level will only bring him satisfaction. So, we completely ignore his existence. Go about our business as if none of this bothers us, give it no mind, run our shop, and appear in town with our family. Go on dates, show up at the summer parties and festivals. Give him nothing to speculate on, and the rumor will die. No one knows about Arthur’s will, it’s for your eyes only, and no one will know the details of the finances. He’s got no leg to stand on and soon enough people will grow tired of him trying to talk shit.”

Warren nods as if trying to convince himself of my words. “You’re right. You’re right.”

Silence descends over us for a few moments as we try to grapple with the anxiety this rumor brings. Of course, the nature of our relationship now isn’t what it started as, so what Mr. Claus is saying is technically false. But the thought of anyone discovering how it started? That sends my stomach dropping to my feet like the worst of roller-coaster nausea.

“I want to get out of here. Between Mr. Claus and the chastity police over here, I’m about ready to call it a night.” I hike a thumb in the direction of the car next to us.

“Do you want to go home, or somewhere else?” he asks, starting the engine.

“Cass and Patrick texted to ask if we want to have a drink after dinner service with everyone.” I stare down at my phone just as it vibrates, chewing my lip.

I’ve avoided Hope Pizza since the fight with my dad, which still hasn’t been resolved, and it’s another piece of anxiety pie heaped on my plate to try to go there if he’s working tonight. Which, let’s face it, he’s always working.

But my need to be around those who love Warren and me and root for us always is greater than the fear of facing my father.

“If you want to go, I’m in.” Warren puts his hand on my thigh as he slowly pulls out of the drive-in.

“Yeah, let’s go there. Why not? Plus, Mom will probably be back and will tell us how Lily ended up doing today.”

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