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13. Emily

I'm married.

I should feel something. Happiness, horror, joy, sadness, anything.

Instead, I'm sitting in a beautiful guest room on a big, comfortable bed in the house I'll be living in for the next five years, and I'm numb.

Totally numb.

Because I've finally gone off the deep end.

This was too much. I was about to get the heck out of here when Simon came into the bathroom. Ten more seconds and I would've found the strength to shove open the door and announce that I could no longer become Mrs. Bianco.

Instead, it was the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, like for him this was more than a business deal.

Like he wanted it to be me. Not because I'm convenient. Not because he can use me. But because he wantsme.

That feeling lasted all of ten minutes, right up until he dumped me in this room, told me to make myself at home, and disappeared.

Now this nightmare is becoming extremely real.

I just signed my life away. Just like what my father did, but even worse. Dad gave his scammers money—while I gave my scammer myself.

It's just about the dumbest decision I've ever made, and I don't know how to live with it.

But first steps. I get out my phone and call my dad with shaking hands, because I need to get this over with right now.

"Emily?" he answers, sounding worried. "It's pretty early. Don't you have a shift right now?"

I honestly forgot about the bagel job. I'm probably fired—I never did call out. "Something came up." I clear my throat and try to sound like I'm not on the verge of dying, but it isn't easy. "I did something impulsive."

"Alright, now I'm worried. Are you okay? Do you need help?"

"No, no, it isn't like that. I mean, I don't need help. But, uh—" I close my eyes, fighting tears. How am I going to explain this to him? I can't tell him that I married Simon for his money, and I definitely can't tell him Simon's going to take care of his debts. Which means I have to lie to him. And I hate myself for that. "I've been seeing someone."

I can practically hear the skepticism. "Alright, that's not a bad thing," he says, talking real slow. "I've been saying you need to get out more and spend time with more friends."

"He's older," I say and punch myself in the leg. Why did I blurt that out?

Another hesitation. "How much older?"

"Ten years."

I think. Probably. I don't actually know. But I don't say that.

"That's not so bad." He sounds wary now. "Why'd you call me?"

Just say it. Just freaking say it. This won't get any easier later, and I need to just?—

"We got married."

The words spill out like vomit. I clap my hand over my mouth, and I wish I hadn't said it.

There have to be better ways. I could've taken it slow, pretended to date Simon, gone through the motions before dumping something like this on Dad?—

But that would've meant more lying, and I can't handle it.

"Oh," Dad says, and I can't read his reaction. "Really? Today?"

"I know it's crazy and impulsive, but I think it's the right thing." I close my eyes. What would a girl who just eloped say? Something about how she's madly in love?

I think of the way Simon stared at me, his hands on my arms, his eyes raking in my body when I got changed in front of him like a moron—and that kiss, that kiss, holy freaking hell, that kiss?—

Dad lets out a sigh. "This is weird," he says. "You know that, right?"

I laugh and a lot of my tension eases. He always knows what to say. "Yep, it's extremely weird. I'm sorry. This happened fast, but I'm happy."

"You don't have to apologize for living your life." I hear him fumbling around at his end for something, digging in a drawer. "I've been saying you need to get out more, and maybe I didn't mean you gotta dive into marriage, but maybe this is what you need. Quit worrying over your old man so much. Have some fun."

"Yeah, have some fun," I say, lying back on the bed and staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Fun isn't the word I'd use to describe my situation but fine, it's a start. "You're not mad?"

He laughs, and it wipes away the rest of my worries. "Not at all. Just a little confused, is all. Do I get to meet his guy?"

"Definitely. I mean, absolutely, we'll do that soon."

"And you're, uh, you're safe, right? You promise me you're safe?"

"Totally safe." I want to add that I'm in the oasis, which is the safest place in the world apparently, but he wouldn't get it. I barely get it. "Simon and I will come visit you soon, I promise. Maybe not today, but tomorrow?"

"Simon," he says like he approves of my new husband based entirely on a name. "Tomorrow would be fine. Heck, enjoy your honeymoon, you don't gotta rush on over. I'm just happy if you're happy. It's weird, but sometimes weird is good, right?"

"Yeah, Dad, sometimes weird is good. Thanks for understanding."

"I love you, kiddo. I just want you to be happy. My god, I feel like the universe owes us something good for once, you know?" Another laugh but this one shoves a lump straight down my throat. I screw up my face to keep from sobbing. "I'm gonna let you go, hon. I love you. Don't worry about me and have some fun for once. Bye-bye."

"Bye, Dad. I love you too."

The line goes dead.

I curl up into a ball, knees to my chest, and I let it out. I cry into a pillow I've never seen before in my life, the room smelling like dried flowers and sawdust, and I sob so hard it hurts my chest, because my dad is so used to the world shitting on us, but also willing to remain optimistic, at least for my sake.

It kills me, how much he's hurting, and how he's still willing to support me no matter what.

And it makes me think that no matter how much of a mistake this marriage is, and I'm pretty sure it's a huge one, so long as it pays off for my father in the end, maybe it'll be worth it.

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