Don't Kiss the Bride: An Age Gap, Marriage of Convenience Romance

by Carian Cole

  “Good night, Lucky.”

  My heart melts into a puddle. I thought I was here for a continued romp in the sheets. I never expected to be cocooned with him, kissed softly, cuddled to sleep. I blink in the dark, waiting for something to change, but it doesn’t.

  He’s falling asleep, hugging me.

  Exhaling softly, I settle in his arms, and grab his hand. I hold it against my chest, locking us together. After a few minutes, his breathing slows, and his grip around me loosens just a tiny bit. I force myself to stay awake for a while longer, just so I can memorize all the little details of falling asleep in my husband’s embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne. The warmth of being enveloped in his muscular arms. The soft hiss of his breathing. The lulling beat of his heart against my back. The overwhelming feeling of sanctuary.

  This is the thing I never believed in. What I feared the most.

  And, sadly, what I can’t have.

  “I love you,” I whisper because I need to put it out there into the universe that I’m crazy in love with this man. I don’t care if it’s right or wrong or complicated or that he doesn’t even hear the words leave my lips.

  I love him.

  Enough to stay, enough to go, enough to wait.

  Chapter 53

  Skylar

  Waking up in Jude’s arms the next morning was what dreams are made of. We didn’t roll away from each other in the middle of the night to seek out space. We hugged until the sun came up. If one of us shifted, we moved together, staying tangled up in each other. I awoke to kisses and his warm hands moving slowly over my body. We made love slowly, wordlessly, dare I say, gently. Every soft kiss and stroke nearly cracked my heart into pieces.

  I never knew sex could feel so emotional and connecting, and yet so heartbreaking. I didn’t want it to end, but at the same time, it didn’t feel like a beginning, it felt very much like the end.

  And, in a way, it was.

  Because that was two weeks ago, and since then, I’ve felt off-kilter. Jude hasn’t been home much, and I’ve been teetering on the fence, trying to decide what to do. My plan was to get my own place, but I keep hoping something will happen to stop me.

  I wait until after dinner to approach him. He’s sitting in the living room, going over the plans for the bar on his iPad with blueprints on the coffee table.

  “Jude?”

  “Mm?” He doesn’t look up at me.

  I toss a thick, white envelope on the coffee table next to his blueprints.

  “I want my car back,” I say. “That’s the amount you paid for it.”

  He slowly looks up and blinks at me, his jaw tense. “You can’t have it.”

  My heart skips with shock. “Excuse me?”

  “You can’t have the car back.”

  “We had a deal.”

  “I know, but the car’s in pieces now.”

  “Pieces? Why?”

  “I’ve been fixing it up. I told you that. But it’s not done yet. I’ve been kind of busy, dealing with migraines, brain fog, and starting a new business.” He waves his hand over the blueprints.

  “Believe me, I’ve noticed how busy and distracted you are.” My words come out more bitter than I wanted them to sound. I know it’s not his fault. I’ve seen how much he’s been struggling with everything since the concussion.

  His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”

  I swallow and tilt my chin. “Ever since we spent the night together, it’s like you forgot about me. You’re hardly ever home, we haven’t talked much at all.”

  Worry flashes in his eyes. “Skylar, I’ve been busy. I had a lot of catching up to do after I got hurt. I have to stay on track if I want the bar to be ready for the reopening.”

  “I know,” I reply, feeling like a spoiled child.

  “I’m not ignoring you. I thought we were okay.”

  “I read the necklace,” I blurt out.

  Surprise washes over his face. “You did? When?”

  “The night I came back from Connecticut.”

  He runs his hand through his hair and leans back into the couch. “I meant it.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he sits in silence.

  “Actions speak louder than words, Lucky. Otherwise, they’re just words. And I love what the message said, but they’re still just words.”

  “And what about your actions, Skylar? You left. You gave your ring back to me. You ran off to Connecticut.”

  “And I came back,” I say defensively.

  “Only because I fell on my fucking head,” he says.

  “That’s not true. I wasn’t going to stay there.”

  “No, you were going to come back and then move out.”

  “I’m still going to do that. Wasn’t that always the plan? That I’m supposed to leave? I’ve been looking at studio apartments.”

  He rubs the back of his head “What’s the rush? You don’t have to move out. I’ve said it a hundred times.”

  “Yes, Jude, I do. This isn’t healthy or good for either of us. This weird, roommate slash lovers slash friends slash spouse situation. You say you don’t want me to move out, but you never really say stay, either. You just say I can live here, but as what? I mean, what the fuck is this?”

  “I don’t know,” he says quietly.

  “It’s limbo,” I say pointedly. “Both of us hanging here, afraid to make a move. Afraid to stay, afraid to go, afraid to talk. We’re just hurting each other, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”

  “I know that.”

  “I want you to be happy. I just need more time…”

  I give him an exasperated look. “Time for what, Lucky?”

  “To give you everything you deserve.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It means I love you, Skylar. And I just need some time to get my fucking head together to make things better.”

  I reel back from the shock of hearing the words I’ve been dying for him to say. But not like this, not in the middle of an argument.

  “That’s how you’re going to say that to me? What the hell?”

  He snorts. “At least I didn’t say it while I thought you were sleeping.”

  My insides freeze up. Shit. I had no idea he heard me that night when I whispered I love you to him.

  “At least I actually said it!” I throw back tearfully.

  He shoves the blueprints to the side. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go. Everything is fucked up.”

  I’ve never been so confused in my life. What does he want? Why does this have to be such a struggle?

  “Jude, please just talk to me. What’s going on in your head?”

  “Is this really what you want? You want me to just throw all my cards on the table right now? When my head’s all twisted up and we’re both in a bad mood?”

  “Yes,” I say with my heart palpitating. “I do.”

  He covers his face with his hands for a few seconds, pressing his fingers into his forehead.

  “I’m afraid of everything,” he finally says. “Saying too much, not saying enough. Holding you back from the life you’re supposed to have. Us staying together and then you waking up in ten years filled with regret and animosity, wishing you hadn’t strapped yourself to someone when you were so young. I’m afraid of losing everything at a time in my life when I finally want to keep everything.”

  “Strapped myself?” I repeat. “I don’t think wanting to be with you is strapping myself. And don’t you think I have fears, too? You don’t think I worry that you’ll want a woman who can actually give you a blowjob?”

  He scoffs and flashes me an incredulous look. “Are you fuckin’ serious? That’s the lamest, shallowest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Okay, that’s true. But it’s the first thing that sprung to my mind.

  “Maybe you’ll want someone more mature.”

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe you won’t even want to be married to me.�
�

  “I never did, until you came along and kept falling in front of me, then into me, then for me.”

  I’m guilty of all the above, but maybe fate had a hand in my chronic clumsiness.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Jude. And I don’t think you’ll hurt me, either.”

  “I think you believe that now. But you’re only eighteen. Do you know how much will change over the years? Your likes and dislikes? What you want in life? Who you want? When you’re thirty, I’ll be almost fifty. What’s that gonna look like?”

  “And that’s not shallow? I’m pretty sure I’m never going to care about our age difference. I care about making each other happy and being there for each other. Growing together. Plus, you’re going to be hot as hell when you’re fifty. So, I’m all good, Jude.”

  He sighs and closes his eyes. I can tell he’s in pain and mentally exhausted, and it makes my heart hurt that I’m the cause of it right now. “I don’t know, Skylar. None of this was supposed to happen. I wanted to get married to help you, and you ended up getting attacked by my sister and getting bullied out of school. Even my best of intentions get all fucked up. I don’t know how to protect you from what life is going to throw at us, and this age difference shit doesn’t help. It’s just another obstacle that could end up hurting you.”

  “You don’t have to protect me. None of that was your fault. Now that I’m out of school, I don’t care what people think about our ages. Do you think I want to be with a guy my age, who most likely has no idea what he wants to do with his life and can’t handle a real commitment? I know that’s what you’re afraid of with me, but I’m afraid of that, too. We’re the same, Jude. We’re both afraid of being abandoned. We both crave trust and commitment. No matter what age I am, that will never change for me. You’re the only one I’ll ever trust.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but I can see my words slowly sinking into him. His eyes are softening, but the rest of his body language screams his defensive walls are still up.

  I force the rest of my thoughts out before I lose him. “We were both dead set against marriage and love when we went into this farce. But guess what? We’ve been married this whole time. Living a real marriage, loving and caring for each other, whether we knew it or not. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.”

  He nods slowly. “You’re right. It means everything. More than you know. But we’ve only known each other a few months.”

  “So? It feels like much longer.”

  “It does. I just feel like it’s been a fuckin’ whirlwind. Like maybe we’re stuck in the honeymoon phase.”

  “Honeymoon phase usually means everything is perfect. We’re far from that. And that’s okay. We don’t need perfect. Look at your aunt and uncle. They got together fast.”

  “Come here,” he says softly.

  I cross the room and sit next to him on the couch. He takes my hand in his, linking our fingers together.

  He heaves in a breath and slowly exhales. “I’m sorry I’ve been distracted. I’m trying to do a lot of things in a really short amount of time.” His eyes are gray pools of emotion, dark and turbulent. “I heard what you said that night,” he says hoarsely. “And it woke me up in so many fucking ways. I meant what I said in the necklace. I don’t want you to leave. Hold off on moving out, okay? Too much is going on all at once. Give me a little time, okay?”

  He presses his lips softly against mine in a kiss that begs for patience.

  “Are you alright?” I whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek. The anguish in his voice and in his eyes is worrying me.

  “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. I need some time to think about everything with a clear mind.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve put doubts in your head,” I say.

  “I’m sorry I’ve put some in yours.”

  I lean my forehead against his, touch my nose against his. “We’ve been a bit of a rollercoaster, huh?”

  He grins. “I like fast, crazy rides, but I think we’ve both had enough.”

  Holding on to his hand, I stand and pull him up. “Will you come do something with me?” I ask.

  When he nods, I lead him upstairs to my bedroom. He waits in the doorway as I turn on the galaxy night light, and the ceiling lights up with stars.

  “Since we can’t get to your favorite place on the mountain, maybe we can look at the stars here and it’ll make you feel better. Help you clear your head.”

  Smiling, he pulls me into his arms and whispers, “I think you’re my favorite place now.”

  Chapter 54

  Skylar

  “Can you float me a loan for about five grand? I want to get my tits done,” Megan says, as we choose a table in the corner of the cafe.

  I can’t tell if she’s kidding or not.

  “Is that how much new boobs cost?” I ask, taking the lid off my tea and stirring it with a straw.

  “I’m not sure. I’m just teasing you. I think when I graduate, I’ll ask my dad if he’ll pay for it.”

  “You look perfect the way you are.”

  She juts her chest out for my inspection. “They could be bigger. And firmer.”

  I look down at my own small chest. “So could mine.”

  “Well, you can afford to get them done now. You’d look so sexy with bigger boobs. Especially with your tiny waist.”

  I shake my head and cut my corn muffin up into four pieces.

  “Nah, I’m good.” Now that I’ve got financial security, I’m not going to waste a dime of that money. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that my life can change in a matter of seconds.

  “How’s Jude feeling?” Megan asks.

  “He’s better, still has some headaches. He’s working out all the stuff for the bar. Licensing, upgrades… it’s a lot. But, he’s going with my seventies-themed decor idea. And guess what he’s naming the bar?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Fupagus!”

  She laughs. “You’re kidding. That’s amazing.”

  “Right? Once things get moving and the inside is ready, I’m going to take pictures and manage social media accounts for the bar. I can do that from anywhere, I guess,” I say. “It’s overwhelming and stressful, but I really think it’s going do great once it’s all off the ground.”

  I wish I felt as excited as I tried to make myself seem. Things have been bittersweet. Me and Jude are both happy about the progress with the bar, but unfortunately, he’s been distant. Nothing between us has changed or progressed yet. He’s still suffering from fatigue, headaches, and mood swings from his head injury, and I’ve taken the position of giving him what he asked for—time.

  Time for what exactly, I don’t know.

  Megan sips at her latte and leans forward. “I still can’t believe you won the lottery!”

  “Girl, me either. It still feels like a dream. The damn IRS took a huge chunk.”

  “Ew, taxes. Have you decided what you’re going to do? Are you going to hang around here? Get a condo or something? Hit the road in an RV? You can totally do that now. It’s like you manifested it!”

  “I know,” I reply, staring out the window. Rebecca’s boutique is right across the street, and I can see the seasonal window display I put together from here. I’m still part-time since I’ve also been creating content and sharing for some other small businesses, but I love working with Rebecca.

  If things don’t change soon, I’m going to throw in the towel and move out of Jude’s house. His silence is making me crazy. I’ve put off signing a lease on my own place. As much as I don’t want to do that, I can’t live in limbo forever. If I did leave, I’d miss Jude in a soul-crushing, heart-wrenching, I’ll-never-get-over-him way. Every time I sit down and seriously try to decide what I should do, the thought of moving out makes my heart ache so much that I feel physically sick.

  Fake marriages are no joke. This shit has fucked us up royally.

  “What about you and Jude?” Megan asks, reading my mind. “Anything new goin
g on there?”

  “No. He really hasn’t said anything more about us. He’s either doing stuff for the bar, or holed up in the garage working on his motorcycle. We’re basically still in limbo.” I nibble on my muffin and try to push down the sadness that’s creeping up my chest. The distance between me and Jude the past few days has been like a chasm. I’ve never felt so empty. So many times, I’ve wanted to tiptoe into his room in the middle of the night and crawl under the sheets with him, kiss him, and just stay there.

  “I thought, since he said he loved me, that meant he wanted us to be together. But we’re still in separate rooms. We haven’t been intimate. Maybe I was wrong or misunderstood.”

  “I don’t think you were wrong. Men are weird. And he is recovering from a head injury and dealing with a lot of stress. Give him time,” she says, glancing at her watch. “You never know what could change at any moment.”

  “I’ve been giving him time, but I can’t just wait around forever. I told him the other day I found a cute studio apartment that I love, and he looked like he was having a panic attack. I have to give the landlord an answer by next week.”

  “Can we switch seats?” she asks suddenly, popping up and almost sending our drinks flying.

  Frowning, I grab my cup and say, “Um, okay. Why?”

  “I don’t like my back to the window.”

  “Since when?”

  “I think I feel a draft. I’m getting a cold, so I don’t want to get sicker. Erik and I have plans this weekend.”

  “Alright.” I laugh at her as we get up and switch seats.

  “That’s better,” she says, glancing at her watch once again, then out the window behind me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, starting to worry. “You’re acting really sketchy right now.”

  She smiles and waves her hand in the air between us. “I’m fine. I have to meet Erik in a little while, that’s all.”

  My phone vibrates on the table. I pick it up to see a text from Jude.

  Jude: Hey you.