Chapter 31: Ophelia

Chapter 31: Ophelia

Suddenly, I’m a Billy Joel fan.

It’s always been something my parents listened to, but now I can see the appeal. Especially when a six-foot-something handsome British man is humming it softly under his breath while holding me in his arms.

I try to focus on the words to the song, but it’s hard with him so near. With his hand splayed across my back and the other one clasped around mine, tucked between our two bodies.

This is not the first dance I’d dreamed of, yet somehow it seems so much more intimate.

Maybe it’s because I’m not wearing a bra.

As the song fades out, we stand there for a moment, still holding onto one another.

Xavier finally looks down at me and a small smile spreads on his face. "Thanks for the dance, love. I remember my mum and dad dancing to this song. Perhaps that’s why I always thought it was romantic."

I need air. Air that doesn’t smell like him or taste like him. I drop my hands from his and take a step back. "Aw, that’s sweet. You must miss them."

"I do. I miss everything about home." He looks out the window, though you can’t see much in the dark night.

"Well, we’ll do our best to make a home for you here. A home away from home. I’m sure we’ll find a good place, and you’ll be happier with your new team and things will work out," I reassure him. I try to commit his expression to memory, knowing full well I will want to describe it in depth. His wistfulness, his longing. I can’t chance going and writing it down right now though. I did that once tonight and then had to babble on to cover up what I was doing.

Xavier looks at me for a long moment. "Yes, well I’m a player without a team, a man without a country, and a person without a home."

"But you are not without an overly optimistic wife, so at least that’s something. It’s like having your own personal cheerleader who knows absolutely nothing about what you do, but makes up for her ignorance with enthusiasm." So much for not babbling. I’m rambling on, making no sense whatsoever when he’s very obviously on the verge of an existential crisis. "As soon as we get settled in a new place, you’ll feel better. This will all be worth it."

"Right then, if you say so. Well, it’s been a day, hasn’t it? I’m going to turn in."

His turning-in is in the middle of my living room, so that’s my cue to retire to my bedroom. I grab my purple notebook and laptop. There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep right away. Too many good things happened today.

Romantic things.

Book-worthy things.

There were moments that almost felt real.

They’ll be real for my characters. This book is really shaping up and you know what? I don’t think it sucks either. I’m considering putting up a chapter or two on Wattpad or Patreon to see if I can stir up some interest.

That’s how inspired I am. I’m almost confident enough to try it again.

I’ll look into it over the weekend. Tonight, my wedding night is all about letting the words flow.

I’d been working on outlines and plot points, trying to organize my thoughts, but tonight, with inspiration like I’ve never had before, I go right for the computer. The words spill forth, almost coming too fast to keep up with.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her milky white thighs, peeking out from under her dress. Unable to resist, he slid a hand over her knee. Her skin was silky, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was this smooth everywhere …

An hour later, I need a cold shower or a vibrator. This is one of the steamiest things I’ve ever read, let alone authored. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve got the perfect inspiration on the other side of my door. And maybe, just maybe, when I picture my hero, he looks exactly like Xavier.

I bet he tastes like him too.

This thought immediately brings to mind our two kisses earlier in the day. I don’t count that awkward meeting of our mouths during our wedding because that wasn’t really a kiss.

Xavier showed me what a kiss was. The kind that makes your toes curl and all the blood rush to one specific part of your body. If we hadn’t been in a crowded bar, I probably would have climbed him like a tree.

The second kiss, to distract him, was a moment of desperation, but it’s not like it was a hardship.

Not in the least.

In fact, I’d love to waltz out there and kiss him again. Why be sexually frustrated or resort to battery-operated fun when there is no doubt that Xavier could satisfy me in a way I’ve never been satisfied before?

Oh right, because this marriage is a sham, and he’s only here because he has to be. I am a means to an end for him and nothing more. He’d think I was some sort of unhinged or deranged person if I went out there and propositioned him.

I mean, it wouldn’t have to mean anything. It’d be a release. I’m sure he could use one too. Can’t he?

I push my computer off my lap and stand, taking a minute to stretch out the cramps in my legs. I make it all the way to my door before I realize this would be the most stupid thing I could ever do. Which for me, and my impressive list of stupid things, is saying a lot.

Even this would be too much for me.

It doesn’t matter that we’re in a fake marriage, which remains my favorite book trope of all time. It doesn’t matter that there’s only one bed in this apartment. It doesn’t matter that he’s ridiculously attractive but also nice.

Real life doesn’t work that way, and it’s high time I start realizing it. I sit back down and open my laptop again. It’s time to focus on this book.

The next time I look up, my neck stiff and my hips cramped, it’s after two a.m. My word count is over five thousand, which is impressive. I know I should be heading to bed, but I’m too excited about my writing.

But since it’s also two in the morning, I can’t tell Marley that I’m ready to take the plunge with writing again. So instead, I do the next best thing. I open ClikClak.

Hey everybody, I’ve got some big news. BIG news. It’s related to my business, and let’s just say I think I’m going to be on the steamy side of this app soon. Stay tuned for the big reveal! Kisses and hugs!

After a whirlwind day, the wedding day I’d never dreamed of, I finally drift off to sleep, content that at least one part of my life is finally moving in the right direction.

*****

I stumble out of my room at seven minutes before nine, which will give me enough time to make a cup of coffee and still be at my desk for work on time. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to work in an office again.

That would be a great thing if I could be a full-time writer. I’d always be able to set my own schedule.

"Morning," I mumble. Xavier is again making a smoothie. It looks like he’s already been out for a run. "You are up way too early for me."

"I’ve got to get my run in before my workout."

Seeing as how no one would ever mistake me for someone who’s physically fit, the idea of working out multiple times in a day is confusing. "In theory, I understand those words, but I have no idea what you mean. Aren’t you on vacation?"

"I don’t have any scheduled team practices, mostly because I don’t have a team. But the off-season is critical for my training. I’m currently in my hypertrophy or endurance phase. Lots of runs and endurance workouts." Xavier smiles. "It takes a lot of work to get a body that performs this way."

I reach past him and dump a spoonful of sugar into my coffee that is light with cream. "Same."

"After I shower, do you want to go look at flats? I think that should be a priority. That air mattress is killing my back."

Immediately, I feel guilty. I shouldn’t be making him sleep on that $20 Wal-Mart special. His body is a temple and should be treated as such. "I have to work, but you go. I trust you. And why don’t you take the bed tonight? I can sleep on the couch."

"I’m not taking your bed from you."

"Yes, but my job isn’t based on my physical performance and if you hurt yourself sleeping on the floor, then you can’t do your job. I understand you’re trying to be chivalrous and stuff, but don’t be a stubborn ass and take me to bed." The words are out before I can stop them. "I mean take my bed. My bed. Not me to bed."

My face grows hot with embarrassment. Let’s hope Xavier never studied psychology and doesn’t read into that Freudian slip.

A small smile spreads over his lips. "We’ll see. Are you sure you can’t go? I’ll put a call in to the realtor."

I glance at my desk. "Yeah, I need to work. But you go. It’s your place anyway. I mean, I can help with rent, but I’m fairly confident we’re not in the same tax bracket. Speaking of which, we need to have Tony put in the contract about how we file our taxes. It might be better to file separately due to the disparity in our incomes, but on the other hand, it’s not like I take itemized deductions. I’ll have to run the numbers. Do you have your tax returns from last year so I can figure out how we want the contract written?"

See? It’s not exciting to me, but I am good at what I do.

"Yes, I need to get ahold of Tony. I’ve got to get moving on the citizenship thing. I’m not sure what the next step is."

After Xavier leaves, I do my very best to concentrate on work. Sometimes being productive can be challenging, but I’ve also never had a reason to fly through things before. It’s not like Sundance cared if I finished at four or seven, as long as he could sit in my lap or walk across my keyboard. I’m not sure how long Xavier will be gone, but I don’t want to still be running spreadsheets when he returns.

Focus would be slightly easier if Xavier wasn’t texting me pictures of the places he’s touring. I appreciate the thought, I really do. But I sort of don’t care. Nothing will be this place, in my funky building with a turret.

It won’t be mine. It won’t be home. It’ll simply be a place where my stuff is for a few years.

Maybe when this marriage is over, I’ll have enough saved up for a place in the Back Bay. That’s always been my dream residence. However, now, the thought of my marriage one day being history makes me sad, and I have no idea why.

Me: Go with your gut about what you like. You know what I’m paying for rent now. I can’t afford more for my share, but we should be able to get something decent between the two of us.

Xavier: Do you want close to the stadium or nice? We’re finally getting closer to Foxborough.

Me: That’s a you question. You’re the one doing the commute. I only have to go to games every … how often do you play?

Xavier: I’m going to give you a study guide, and yes, there will be a test.

Me: Will you grade on a curve? Oh! Make sure the place accepts pets. Sunny is non-negotiable. Have Tony put him in the contract if you need.

Xavier: If the damn wanker ever calls me back, I will. :-/

Me: You’re going to make me get rid of my couch, aren’t you?

Xavier: It’s an eyesore.

Me: It’s got character and personality. It’s not boring.

Xavier: That it’s not.

Xavier: So far, my favorite is The Sylvan, but no 3 bed available. 2 bed, but it’s pricey. Go check out the website.

I click on the link and can see the appeal after taking the virtual tour. There’s a pool, not that we’ll get to use it for a while. There is a fitness facility and everything looks new. There are even windows, so you know, it’s an upgrade already. It’s very posh and modern and … cold. Sleek and stylish and everything that I’m not. Something occurs to me, so I text Xavier.

Me: Why 3 bed?

Xavier: So you can have a dedicated office.

That’s so considerate. I shouldn’t be surprised because Xavier is the poster child for considerate.

The messages cease for a little while. They must be in-between places. About forty-five minutes later, my phone starts blowing up.

Xavier: I’ve found the absolute perfect place, and I don’t want to lose it. Can you come down and sign the lease today?

I look at the clock.

Me: I can probably leave by 4. With traffic should be there by 5.

I know I told Xavier it didn’t matter—and it doesn’t—but I wish I was there to see.

Me: Do you have a link?

Xavier: I want you to see it. Get here as soon as you can.

Google Maps tells me this place is about forty-five minutes from Brookline. While in the car, I call Marley to let her know about this development.

"Mansfield? That’s so far away. I’m never going to see you again."

While forty-five minutes is certainly more than our current distance of approximately eleven minutes, it’s not like it’s the end of the world.

"I know, but it’s close to the stadium. Like 495 can keep us apart. Xavier’s going to be on the road a lot, so I’ll just crash on your couch. Jamal will grow to love having me as a sometimes roommate."

"I know, it’s just I feel like things are changing. Like I’m losing you forever."

I signal and change lanes approaching my exit. "Things are changing, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to grow apart. You’ll always be my ride or die."

"Yeah, except you met the man of your dreams and fell in love without me. I didn’t get to ride."

I can hear her sadness through the phone, and it breaks my heart a little. I want to tell her why. That this wasn’t my real wedding, and that when it is, she’ll be there.

She continues. "It all happened so quickly, and I had no idea that my best friend had all this going on. I know everything about you. I mean, I thought I did, but I didn’t even know you were in love."

The guilt of the lies and the secrets presses down on me like a Mack truck, making it hard to breathe. A bed to sleep in might be the priority for Xavier, but for me, it’s getting the NDAs or whatever we need from Tony so I can fess up to Marley.

She’s going to be pissed.

"I know. But trust me, things will work out for the best. Xavier’s good for me. He’s even got my creative juices flowing."

"I bet that’s not the only juices," Marley mutters.

"Marley! No, seriously, I’m writing again. And I think, this time around, it’s good."

"It was good last time. I wish you’d believe me over some stupid troll on Wattpad. When do I get to read it? And don’t think you can distract me from the real issue. We are going to have a long talk about all of this soon."

My exit is coming up in two miles. "Mar, I’m going to have to go, but trust me, there’s more than you know. I’m fine and it’s all good, but this will all make sense soon."

"What cryptic bullshit is that? Ophelia June Finnegan, tell me what’s going on."

"It’s actually Ophelia June Henry now."

Her silence speaks volumes.

I am a shit friend.

I want to call Xavier and tell him what’s going on, but I don’t want to bother him. I’ll see him in about fifteen minutes anyway, and maybe he can light a fire under Tony so my life can get back to normal.