19. Sally

Iglance around the kitchen, fingers thrumming quietly along the edge of the sink. The only noise is my tapping. Overwhelmed by the empty silence, I break the internal stalemate with myself to look back over into the sink.

There sit two empty coffee cups, one a fainter match to the other. I try to ignore the frown that punctures my features at the sight. It’s an appropriate metaphor for our marriage, and I try to tamper down the pit of loneliness that gnaws at me.

I yank my hand back from the countertop and refocus my efforts on my day. Now that I’ve settled into marriage, my days are busy, with a schedule that is nearly always filled. My thoughts should be turned to all I have ahead of me and not the missed opportunities between us.

“I have to go. I’ve got a meeting.”

“Don’t worry about dinner-”

“Working late,”

“I’ll call you…”

Biting back another sigh, I remind myself that I am supposed to be thinking about my upcoming day, not this morning. Or the other mornings, and evenings, that have transpired recently. Yet I have no one to blame but myself, I suppose.

Going into this agreement, I knew that the ‘marriage’ part of our deal would be contractual, I just didn’t expect it to be quite so transactional. Or rather, I didn’t expect to be hurt by it. There seemed to be a genuine camaraderie building between us in the weeks leading up to the vow exchange, and then there was that kiss…

Trying and failing for the thousandth time to forget about our kiss has me stumbling awkwardly as I go through my morning routine. I’ve got to be sure I’ve got the kids” papers and project assignments, not daydreaming like some lovesick teenager.

Ever since that damn kiss, Drakar has taken professional distance to new heights. Our budding friendship was enough for me to overlook a little embarrassing mishap, but now this awkward distance that’s settled between us has me feeling off-kilter.

Every time I remember how unabashedly I threw myself at him by the lake, in front of my family, no less, I can’t help but groan in embarrassment. So swept up in the moment, I gave no thought to our established boundaries. The ones literally written into our marriage arrangement.

Well, Drakar has no problem reestablishing those boundaries now, it seems. I shake my head, reminding myself I have no right to be frustrated and push the sour thought aside.

Instead, I focus on recalling my priorities on the drive to the school. Mentally going through my daily schedule reminds me that today is my usual checkup day, to visit Dad at the hospital.

My day is the usual hectic blur, and as I climb the steps to the hospital, I can’t help but wish Drakar was beside me. Whatever else is going on between us, I miss the time he took to make the hospital visits.

It’s a small consolation to know I am not the only one missing him, too. “Where’s that strapping young husband of yours?” Dad asks upon my arrival. He struggles to straighten in his bed, and I am instantly at his side, hugging him and discreetly fluffing the pillows.

“Nice to see you, too, Dad.” I roll my eyes affectionately. There’s still a humorous twinkle in his eye, so I do my best to ignore his weakened grip as he clasps my shoulder. “You think you could remember that I’m your daughter and he’s your son-in-law?”

“He tells better jokes than you,” my dad counters for good measure. My mother chides him, but since he’s recovering well, she’s all smiles.

“Speaking of which, did you ever hear what Casper liked most about his girlfriend?” Humor is the best medicine, after all.

He smiles and shakes his head, giving me a mischievous sideways look. Leaning in close, I whisper conspiratorially. “Her spirit fingers.”

Dad gives a wheezing laugh that causes the machines to flutter. Now it’s my mother’s turn to chide me, but seeing dad even remotely close to his old energy levels was worth it. “I’m not sure that’s a joke you should be telling your parents,” he mentions, rubbing his laugh lines.

“Yeah, but it’s a joke that will never die.” Dad laughs again, even as Mom rolls her eyes with good humor. The joke is enough of a distraction to move onto other topics, and I’m reminded of how good things are.

It’s nice to have a more intimate family moment like this, and I realize that I haven’t really laughed with my family in a while, being so preoccupied with life’s harsh realities. Even as I turn back to the conversation, my mind can’t help but wonder what else I’ve missed out on.

The same thoughts follow me until the quiet stillness of home greets me once again. The lights are dim, and the silence tells me that I am returning to an empty domicile. A dull ache weighs on my chest, dragging my footsteps as I move through the silent rooms.

“Ugh, what am I even doing?” I grumble. It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for weeks, so far with no firm answer.

For so long I’ve dreamt about normalcy and financial security. I hardly know what to do with myself now that I have it. Yet I am unable to shake this feeling of dissatisfaction, this restlessness that has pulses through my bones. Being with Drakar has filled my days more than I could have imagined, but it also reveals how truly alone I was before he came into my life, and what I’ll be returning to once our contract has expired.

I owe him so much that when the time comes where I have to give him up- even though the very thought intensifies that lonely ache- I want to leave his life having made it a little better, as he has done with mine. The last thing either one of us needs is for me to start questioning our accord now, even if I find myself wondering if there ever could be something real between us.

The delicious aroma that catches my senses is real enough, however. Rich sauces and herbs have me wandering in the direction of the kitchen, where the layout opens into the dining area. A trail of candles wraps around the table, where a bouquet of flowers sits expectantly in the chair I favor, and the savory scent of eggplant parmigiana wafts through the air.

Apparently, I wasn’t as alone as I thought. Drakar walks back in from the wine cellar, expertly uncorking a bottle of red before pouring a glass and handing it to me. I watch his muscles bend and flex as he goes through the action. The peek of his forearms from under his cuff is a tantalizing distraction.

“Welcome home, Sally,” he greets, helping lift my bag from my shoulder as I take in the surroundings. Obviously, we’ve been in close proximity since our accidental kiss, and the subsequent wedding ceremony. Yet this feels different somehow. It’s less awkward and more intimate.

“What’s all this?” I ask in a hush, as if using my everyday voice will break the spell that seems to have woven itself through the room. “It all looks and smells wonderful.”

“This is me apologizing to my wife for being a thoughtless husband.” His simple reply almost bowls me over. Luckily, Drakar is already leading me to my seat.

“There is nothing for you to apologize for, and certainly nothing that warrants the effort of making dinner.” Settling at the table, he moves to join me, and I have to suppress my reaction of delight at his company.

“We have been officially married for two weeks, and I have barely made any effort to engage with you. Spend time with you.” Drakar offers this humble explanation as he plates our dinner, and I toe off my shoes under the table.

Instinctively I blush, glancing down at my napkin. “We-well, that is to say, that we don’t exactly have that kind of marriage. There isn’t anything about it in the contract, and I don’t have those kinds of expectations.”

Is that true?Even as I speak the words, I find myself questioning them when I remember the waves of bliss that engulfed me when our lips touched. I’ve never responded so unrestrained and enthusiastically to a man before, so much so that I’m still distracted by it weeks later, even when everything in me screams it was a mistake.

Drakar frowns at this and encourages me to look at him. “Sally. You are a kind and decent person who deserves to be treated with kindness and decency in return, regardless of whatever our arrangement is. I have neglected you, and for that I am sorry.”

Acknowledging his words with a murmured thanks, I start in on dinner. The first bite is heavenly, reminding me of how little I’ve actually eaten all day, and suddenly I’m ravenous. I almost want to resent the fact that my fake husband is sexy, rich, and domestically capable, but I’m too busy enjoying dinner.

It takes another few minutes before I can properly address him again. “You run a company. I understand that your job is demanding, and you won’t always have time to just hang out.”

“Just because I run a fortune five-hundred snack conglomerate does not give me an excuse to ignore you, especially when you’re helping me out. My work has kept me very busy lately,” he continues. “But that doesn’t mean that you are no longer a priority, now that the contract has been signed.”

“Well, getting dinner together is terrific, and it tastes amazing. I really appreciate it after a long day like today. The effort is really thoughtful as well,” I add, indicating the candles and flowers.

“Really, though, you didn’t have to do all of this, and you’ve hardly been neglectful. You’ve given me financial solvency, paid my father’s medical expenses, and even given me a personal driver while my car is being worked on. I could not have asked for a more thoughtful husband, truly.”

I reach out delicately to clasp his hand in gratitude, ignoring the sparks that light at his touch. It’s important that I acknowledge he has fulfilled his promises, even if I can’t help but miss him lately.

“Thank you.” He chuckles softly, gazing fondly at me. “I appreciate hearing all of that and that you like dinner. Now I know you visited your father today, and I want to hear about how he’s recovering, but I wanted to give you something first.”

“Oh?” My curiosity is piqued, and the hopeful notes that play within me seem to grow in melody.

Taking another gulp of wine, he sets a brochure in front of me. I blink in surprise, then focus my attention on the pamphlet. “Calypso Hills Resort?” I question openly as I leaf through the information.

“I realize that our arrangement never accounted for a honeymoon,” Drakar offers by way of explanation. “Since neither one of us has taken a proper vacation since I don’t know when, I thought we might use our recent nuptials as a good excuse to take a much-needed break.”

“Oh, Drakar, that’s a wonderful idea.” I mean it sincerely despite a lack of romantic promises. It’s a thoughtful and generous gesture, and I can’t help the small flare of excitement that ignites at the prospect of a real vacation. Clasping his hand in mine, I feel another thrum of electricity spark through my body much like it did back at the lake.

For a tiny moment, I see that same spark reflected in Drakar’s stare. I can’t help but wonder, could there actually be more to this surprise vacation? Did he feel something like I did down by the lake and is looking for an excuse to explore it?

The curved print of the brochure catches my eye again, the lettering describing Calypso Hills. Maybe this resort trip is just what we need to explore whether we can grow a relationship from this agreement, or if our vows really are best on paper after all.