“People were probably pissed you took up all the slots.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Oh well.”
“Not nice, Nathaniel.” I shoved him playfully again and stretched my hand to admire my ring. “It’s so beautiful.”
On our way home, I stared some more. He wrapped an arm around me shoulder and pulled me to him.
“You know you haven’t said yes.”
I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you haven’t said yes.” He chuckled. “You’ve been staring at the ring, staring at me, kissing me, but you haven’t agreed to marry me.”
“Ask me again.”
“What?” His eyes widened. “I bared my soul to you back there. What do you mean, ask you again?”
“Ask me again and be nice, otherwise I’m not sure what answer you’ll get.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so?” He mimicked me, raising an eyebrow back. “I’m not sure I want to ask someone so bossy to spend the rest of my life with me.”
“Your life?” I laughed, holding his hand as we reached our building. “What about my life?”
“Good point.” He tilted his head as we waited for the elevator.
He didn’t say a word as we stepped inside and rode it up to our floor. He didn’t say a word as we walked down the hall or as we unlocked the door and opened it. He didn’t say a word as we took our jackets off and hooked them on the hangers. Once we were in the kitchen, he faced me again, bringing his hand to my face.
“You are the bossiest, craziest person I’ve ever met.”
“This doesn’t sound like a nice proposal,” I whispered.
“I told you, I used up all my sentimental lines already.” He smiled slightly, caressing my face. “I love you, Princess. I will love you forever, whether you accept my proposal or not, but I really would love it if you stand by my side through this relentless, crazy life we live. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Forever and ever yes.”
He grinned and it was the most blinding, gorgeous smile. “You make me the happiest man alive.”
As we kissed, I remembered the announcers last words to us, and held him tighter, because this was the happily ever after I’d always dreamed of.
Afterword
Want to read Victor & Nicole’s book free? Get it here: Elastic Hearts
Fuck Marriage by Tarryn Fisher
Chapter One
The salon is warm with all west-facing windows. I stare out at the parking lot wishing for a fan, a breeze—anything to cool my skin. A mother chases her toddler across the cracked asphalt. He falls. Rolling onto his back, he screams, arms and legs flailing. When she picks him up, I see that her hair is stuck to her face in wet clumps. The entire state of Washington is being strangled by stagnant heat.
I want a cigarette so bad I’m jittery. The bell to the door jingles, and one of the stylists walks in carrying two tabletop fans under her arms. She purses her lips to blow her bangs off her forehead, but they stay put.
“It’s all they had left,” she says to a different stylist.
They confer about where to put the fans and settle on a central location. If I lean to the left I can catch some of the breeze they’re causing.
“Can you sit up straight?” my stylist asks, tapping me on the shoulder. “I thought you wanted to cut it.” She stands over me, hands suspended, mid-action.
I can see the damp on her blouse where she’s sweating through her clothes. She opens and closes her scissors for emphasis, drawing my eyes back to her face. I think of comparing her to Edward Scissorhands, but she’s freshly twenty-five and I doubt she’d know who he is.
“Change of plans,” I say. “I’m going home next week.”
The word home is a sour word in my mouth. Even as I say it, my tongue curls back in protest. Home to me is a city, not a house, or a husband, or a family. Maybe because I don’t really have those things anymore, or maybe because I’m not cut out to have those things.
“No one there has ever seen me with long hair,” I explain, as if that’s a good enough reason.
It’s not entirely the truth. There’s no one left to see me. My friends are gone. In my exodus from the city two years ago, I made the decision for them. For a while they’d tried to stay in touch, but in my grief I sent their efforts to voicemail. And just like that, they stopped trying. My ex was the one who stayed so he inherited custody of our friends. It sounds silly to think that, but it’s true. When there’s a divorce, lines are drawn, sides taken. I reach up, running my fingers through the length of it. It’s past the middle of my back, hanging in sleek mermaid waves, thanks to Tina’s grooming. I like the idea of them seeing me in my new body, with my new hair. I am thinner, longer, wiser…more jaded. If Woods met me now, there’d be no way he’d think me trusting.
“Home, huh? I thought you grew up here in Port Townsend,” Tina says.
She likes to make fun of my divided loyalty; though, if you put a gun to my head I’d choose New York every time.
“Do you have a cigarette?” I ask.
“Nice try. You told me not to give you one no matter how much you beg.”
“I just want to put it in my mouth.”
“That’s what she said,” Tina jokes.
She rummages around in her bag and pulls one out: Marlboro. Ew. I stick it between my lips and close my eyes in pleasure.
“You’re pathetic,” she says when I hand it back to her.
“I know.”
“—but beautiful.”
“In New York I’m Billy, and here I’m plain ol’ Wendy.”
“Oh my dear,” she says, spinning my seat around to face the mirror. “You’re anything but plain.”
I smile at my reflection. A lot has changed since I arrived home two years ago, my tail tucked between my legs. And Tina is right, partially right: I am no longer the plain girl I once was. Rejection is a fine motivator.
“When do you leave?” She unclips the robe from my neck and I unfold myself from her chair. The breeze from the fan finds me and I close my eyes in pleasure.
“Tomorrow.” I turn to face her.
“Will you see Woods?”
Tina’s stylist chair doubled as a therapy chair my first year home. She probably knows more about my failed marriage than my own family.
“That’s the plan,” I say.
She frowns. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Wendy. Be careful, okay?”
Careful? That’s what I will not be this time. Careful is what got me into this mess in the first place.
“Sure,” I say, and Tina frowns. “Wish me luck?”
“Luck? You don’t need luck for revenge. You just need balls.”
Acknowledgments
I stopped writing these all the time because I have too many people to thank and always forget someone. If you’re reading this - thank you. I sincerely appreciate you.
Xoxo,
Claire
Also by Claire Contreras
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The Consequence of Falling: (An enemies-to-lovers office romance) Page 24
