The Imperfections: A Forbidden Romance

by Sam Mariano

  “You want to keep talking, or you want to take your clothes off?”

  There’s only one correct answer to that, so I strip off my clothes and follow Alyssa into the shower stall. Water beats off her shoulder and splashes onto the floor outside, so I slide the glass door shut then wrap an arm around her and back her up toward the shower wall.

  With a little “Oh” of surprise she follows my lead, smiling up at me. When I lean in to kiss her, she wraps her arms around my neck. When I reach down to touch her, she eagerly spreads her legs to make room for me.

  As I’m kissing and fucking this beautiful woman who belongs only to me, I tell myself there’s nothing to worry about. I should stop avoiding phone calls and putting off inevitable things. I should stop worrying that just because she made a dumb mistake before she met me, she’d do something like that to me now.

  I tell myself all those things, but it doesn’t change a goddamn thought in my head. The pathways in my mind were already burned into this untrusting pattern long before Alyssa came along, and deciding to have a relationship with someone I know has done something like that before? Not ideal, unless my goal was worrying myself to death.

  Not for the first time in my life, I try to shake all these concerns I should be able to talk myself out of.

  Not for the first time in my life, the doubt remains.

  17

  Brant

  “Brant, you can’t. It’s too big.”

  I flick a glance at the jeweler on the other side of the glass case as she eagerly works to dispel Alyssa’s reluctance and earn her commission. “Oh, that looks so lovely on your finger.” Glancing at me, she says, “Doesn’t that suit her so well? Just look at that sparkle.”

  Alyssa sighs with guilty pleasure and bites down on her bottom lip, inspecting the simple solitaire on her left ring finger. “It is gorgeous, but it costs too much.” Reluctantly, she begins to slide the ring off her finger. “Do you have one a little smaller?”

  “We don’t need to look at one a little smaller,” I interrupt. “If that’s the ring you want, that’s the ring we’re buying.”

  Shaking her head, Alyssa argues, “No way. That’s just the engagement ring, not even factoring in my wedding band or yours. It’s too much to spend on jewelry.”

  “It’s my money to spend,” I tell her offhandedly. Then I look at the saleslady. “We’ll take this one.”

  Affecting a deep, theatrically masculine voice that must be Alyssa’s terrible imitation of mine, she says, “You’re right, Alyssa, it’s our money now and I respect your opinion.” Pausing and smiling, she returns to her normal, sweet tone of voice. “Thank you, Brant. You’re going to be the best husband ever.”

  Rolling my eyes at her antics, I tell her, “I didn’t mean it’s not our money, but I’m not gonna cheap out on your engagement ring. I’ve got the money to spend, so if you like the ring that much and it puts a smile on your face, then this is the one I’m gonna buy you.”

  Butting in needlessly, the saleslady tells Alyssa, “Take it from an old married woman, honey—let ’em buy you the expensive gifts while they’re willing to.” She laughs, and the sound grates on my nerves.

  I’m not terribly fond of salespeople to begin with, but this one is so fucking chatty I’d drop any amount of money Alyssa wanted me to just so I wouldn’t have to stand here a minute longer.

  “Didn’t you say there’s a similar ring half a carat smaller that’s a lot cheaper?” Alyssa asks her.

  The saleslady’s face dims at the prospect of losing a few hundred dollars, but she nods her head anyway. “Would you like to see it?”

  “No,” I snap, before Alyssa can answer. “We’re done here. Get the box and the bill and let’s get on with this.”

  Alyssa looks up at me like she wants to argue, but she can see I’m losing my patience with this ring shopping ordeal. “Are you sure?” she asks. “You really don’t have to spend this much on my engagement ring, Brant, I’d be happy with much less.”

  Leaning over and stealing a little kiss to soften the sharp edges of my surliness, I tell her, “I’m positive.”

  With the worst of it over and my patience running thin, the saleslady brings over a couple options for complementary wedding bands for both of us. Annoyed as I am that we have to keep shopping, Alyssa drains some of it with her excitement.

  She’s even more excited about rings for me than herself. When she finds the one she likes and I need to try it on for size, she takes my hand and slides it on my finger herself, eyes sparkling with pleasure like we’re getting married here at this damned jewelry counter.

  It does something to my insides, her excitement about marrying me. The way her pretty eyes sparkle as she slides the band over my knuckle, not letting go of my hand once it’s on.

  “What do you think?” she asks eagerly.

  I don’t even look at the ring. “I think it’s perfect.”

  Alyssa lights up and turns back to the saleslady. “Let’s go with this one for him.”

  Alyssa picks out a band with diamonds all around it for herself, and it’s not as pricey as the engagement ring so she doesn’t balk as much. Once all the rings are finally picked out, we move on to the easy part—paying the bill. I’m more than happy to do it since it means we get to leave. The tiny bag the saleslady hands me doesn’t seem big enough to hold so many thousands of dollars’ worth of merchandise, but the way Alyssa beams down at her engagement ring as we leave makes it all worth it.

  “Thank you so much, Brant.” She hugs my arm and leans her head on my bicep.

  Reaching my arm around her and pulling her a little closer as we walk, I tell her, “You’re welcome.”

  “I didn’t expect you to spend that much on me.”

  “I could tell,” I offer dryly.

  She hesitates, seeming to debate what she wants to say next, then she says, “I feel like it’s crass to bring this up since we haven’t technically known each other for very long, but I also feel like it would be kind of stupid not to since we’re getting married and all…”

  “I’m not worried about polite manners,” I assure her. “What do you want to know?”

  “Can we—you—” She stops again, frowning uncertainly. “This is weird, I don’t know how to refer to…” She pauses, then settles on, “Can you afford that bill?”

  “If I couldn’t, I don’t imagine they’d have let us leave with the rings,” I point out.

  “You know what I mean,” she says, shooting me a look. “You know what I’m trying to ask—why are you torturing me?”

  It’s somewhat amusing how awkward she feels asking me how much money I have. I never really thought about needing to discuss it, but I guess since we’re getting married, it is her business now. “Wedding jewelry is a once-in-a-lifetime expense,” I explain. “It didn’t matter how much it cost. I wanted you to have exactly what you wanted.”

  “And I appreciate that, but I don’t want you to sink yourself into debt buying me jewelry.”

  “I’m not sinking myself into any debt,” I assure her. “I’ve spent many years as a single man who works a lot, Alyssa. I have a healthy savings and I make a decent living. We’re not rich by any means, but you won’t need to worry about money like you’re used to, either.”

  “When you say I won’t have to worry…”

  “I mean you won’t have to worry,” I state. “Buy what you want, when you want it. Whatever you need, I’ll take care of it.”

  Cracking a smile, she says, “So you don’t need me to pitch in for the bills once I start getting paid from the yoga studio?”

  I shake my head. “Once the baby comes, you don’t have to work at all unless you want to. That’s up to you. I’d be happy to have you at home.”

  “Wow,” she murmurs, looking ahead distractedly as we walk toward the car.

  “You’re surprised?” I ask her, cocking an eyebrow. I tend toward the traditional in just about every other way, so I can’t imagine she thought I’d ma
ke her work instead of taking care of our kid if that’s what she wanted to do.

  “I guess I just hadn’t considered it. That was obviously never an option for my mom or Amber.”

  “Yeah, well, they got knocked up by shitty men.”

  “So did I,” she offers back dryly.

  I look over at her, slightly bothered that she’s not accepting our revisions to reality herself. How is she gonna pull it off in front of Bri when she’s not even fully buying into it?

  “Not anymore you didn’t,” I remind her. “Like I told you, it has to be like this is my baby in every way. I knocked you up. That’s the truth now.”

  Nodding her head, she says, “I know, but you know what I mean. Anyway, that’s really sweet, but I think it would feel weird not to have any of my own money.”

  “You’d have your own money, I’d just be the one giving it to you instead of an employer.”

  “Like an allowance?” she teases, looking up at me.

  “Allowance is a little condescending, isn’t it?” I offer back. “It’s not an allowance. You’re allowed to spend whatever you want to spend, within reason. We’ll set up a joint checking account and I’ll make you an authorized user on my main credit card so you’ll have access to all the funds you need. If you need cash, I’ll give it to you.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” she tells me.

  “Not really. When it comes to taking care of my family, you’ll never have to worry about that. Real men take care of their wives and kids, Alyssa. You just haven’t encountered many of them in your lifetime.”

  Resting her head against me again, she smiles. “Well, I’m grateful for your support, anyway. I don’t know what I want to do, I guess I’ll have to think about it.”

  I tighten my arm around her. “You’ve got some time to decide.”

  She tips her head back and looks up at me. “I’m gonna take care of you too, you know?”

  “I know that. I didn’t mean you don’t have anything valuable to contribute. You’re better at some things and I’m better at others. We’re gonna be partners in this relationship, always working together toward the same goals. I’ll play to my strengths and you’ll play to yours, but we always have to remember we’re on the same team. You’ll never have to face anything on your own again. From this day forward, I’ve got your back, always, no matter what, and I expect the same from you.”

  We’re at my truck now. I let go of Alyssa so she can wander over to her side, but she stands in front of the vehicle and doesn’t move. She’s turned toward me, looking up at me for so long I start to feel self-conscious about it.

  “What?” I ask once I can’t take wondering what she’s thinking anymore.

  Alyssa shakes her head, a fond look on her face. “It’s just gonna be really easy to fall in love with you.”

  That eases the worry that was starting to build, thinking maybe she didn’t have the same idea of marriage I did. “I hope so,” I murmur, feeling a little bashful since she caught me off guard.

  Alyssa grins and steps forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and leaning into me. “I know so.”

  18

  Alyssa

  I have no idea how to go about introducing Brant to my family.

  It should be easy, in theory, since he is hands down the best man I’ve ever encountered. Even having to announce a pregnancy on top of it, it shouldn’t be too terrible since he’s got the moral compass of a 300-year-old and he plans to marry me.

  In practice, though, I’m nervous as hell. I’ve never really introduced a guy to my family like this. Once, when I was sort of seeing that jerk I gave a reluctant blow job to, we ran into each other at the same restaurant. I was there with my mom and sister, he was there with some friends, and he came to my table to say hello since it would’ve been weird to ignore me, but that’s as close to an introduction as I’ve ever come.

  On top of that, I know Brant has this traditional idea of sitting down with my family over dinner, and we don’t do that here. Pappy eats at his recliner in front of the television, the kids eat wherever me or my sister can force them to sit still long enough to shovel some food into their mouths, and my mom… I can’t even recall the last meal we shared together. I do know it’s been at least a few months, and we definitely ate on the couch, not assembled around the table, talking to each other about our day.

  Brant is not even remotely prepared for my family. Further proving this, he stops on the way and gets flowers to give to my mom. I had to fight with her to even get her to cancel her plans and show up. I told her it was important, but I expect she’ll still be in a pissy mood about it, so I can only imagine the flummoxed look on her face when Brant shows up with flowers.

  The whole ride there, I’m quiet, worrying about the scene we’ll be greeted with. I was tempted to ask Brant to drop me off an hour or so before he came so I could make dinner myself, but he had other stuff he wanted to do before, like pick out my ring. Entrusting the preparation to my mom and sister makes me nervous, but I’m hoping for the best.

  I’m wearing my ring to dinner. I don’t expect anyone will notice it until I show it off since they won’t be looking for it, but hey, if someone does, I have my conversation starter.

  When Brant pulls into my driveway, I’m hit by a wave of nerves all over again. I do my best to shake it off and paste on a smile, but everything within me rebels against walking through that door. I don’t know why. Brant already has some idea where I come from, but he’s never met my mom, and I’m dreading that so much.

  On instinct, he takes my hand as we walk to the house, but he drops it when we get to the door. It’s too late to back out, so I turn the doorknob and push the door open.

  “Hey, I’m home,” I call out as a general warning.

  “Rahhh!” My niece comes barreling into the living room, running at me full force and latching onto my leg. “Aunt Alyssa!”

  “Hey, baby girl,” I return, reaching down to rub her back.

  “Who’s this?” she asks, looking up at the strange man I brought into the house.

  “This is my, um—this is Brant,” I offer awkwardly.

  “Hi, Brant,” she says, without introducing herself.

  He starts to say hi back, but before he can, she turns and runs right back out of the room.

  “Wow, she sure has a lot of energy,” he remarks.

  Nodding absently, I say, “She’s always pretty high energy, but her attention span is usually not this short unless she’s had too much sugar. I bet she got into the candy when my sister wasn’t paying attention.”

  Nodding once, he says, “Keep candy on the top shelf, got it.”

  I crack a smile. “You’ll pick up all kinds of parenting lessons at my house, don’t worry. It’s like a cram-style study course, just without any books and probably with a lot more crying.”

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he says, adorable in his wrongness.

  As if to prove me right and Brant wrong, my mom rounds the corner, hollering back into the room she left, “Just use the paper ones. I haven’t had time to do the dishes, Jesus Christ.”

  Swallowing down my nerves, I offer up a little smile. “Hi, Mom.”

  Her gaze skates past me to check out the “boyfriend” I said I was bringing home. She does a double take when it’s Brant standing beside me. She was probably expecting someone more like Dirk.

  Her mouth opens and a little noise comes out, but then she shuts it again. Shaking her head, she glances past us at the front door. “I didn’t realize this was a whole family affair.” I’m not sure what that means, but she pastes on a much more pleasant smile and offers her hand to Brant. “Hello there, I’m Robin, Alyssa’s mother. I wish she’d have told me you were coming,” she says, looking him over in a truly icky way, her gaze lingering on his biceps and his chest. Cheeks flushing a little, she gives him another coy smile. “We’ll make it work. I can always warm up some chicken nuggets for the kids if we have to.”

&n
bsp; Brant glances at me a little uneasily then looks back at my mother. Stubbornly clinging to his politeness, he nods his head at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for having me over for dinner.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” she insists, despite the fight she put up when I asked her to come to this.

  “These are for you,” he says, offering her the flowers.

  My mother clutches her chest, staring at them like she’s never seen any before in her life. Which, to be fair, she hasn’t—not presented like this, anyway. Mom doesn’t exactly date the sort of man who brings flowers to dinner.

  “Aren’t you sweet,” she croons, taking the flowers and bending her head to smell them. “That is so—I don’t even know what to say. What a gentleman, thank you.”

  Clearing my throat, I look past my mom, wanting to get out of the entryway and into a bigger space. “Do you need any help finishing up dinner?”

  “No, it’s all taken care of,” she answers offhandedly. Glancing at Brant, she says, “I didn’t have time to do anything too fancy. I’ve been working all day, and you know how kids are. I told my other daughter we were having a guest for dinner, but do you think she lifted a finger to help? I’m sure you know how it is. I don’t see a wife—are you a single parent, too?”

  “Excuse me?” Brant returns, lifting an eyebrow.

  Frowning, my mom looks past us at the door, then back to me. “Is your boyfriend getting something out of the car, or…?”

  As my mom trails off uncertainly, I begin to realize she thinks Brant is my boyfriend’s father. “Oh my god,” I say, sinking into a pit of embarrassment. “Mom, this is Brant.”

  She stares at me, not quite comprehending.

  Absently placing a hand on his shoulder and reaching across myself to pat his bicep with the other, I elaborate, “This is the boyfriend I said I was bringing to dinner. No one else is coming. It’s just the two of us.”