Keep This Promise

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Keep This Promise Page 137

by Willow Winters


  We’re not in a relationship, but he wants to stay married. What am I supposed to do with that?

  Slowly, I sink back into my seat and stare at the table.

  How could I not have known he was going to do this? He never let on that he was having second thoughts about the divorce. In fact, he’s been the driving force, researching lawyers and making appointments.

  “Wren, has something happened between you two?” Felicity asks.

  “Not like this. I never thought he would want to stay married. This is Brody! He’s never even had a relationship, but he wants to stay in a marriage? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Even if he wanted to start something, surely he would get the divorce still. How often does your very first relationship last forever? If something is going to happen between us, I want a fresh start only the divorce will give us.

  Mum’s eyes are red and puffy, but there’s a fierceness in her expression that I need. She’s switched from devastation to mum mode.

  She’s ready to tackle this head-on. Thank fuck because I don’t know what to do.

  “Did he give you any indication that he wanted to stay…” Mum swallows the word married.

  “No. The last time we spoke about it, he was ready to sign the paperwork, just like me. We were both so ready to have it done and move forward. I don’t know what changed overnight.”

  “So, he was happy to get a divorce?” she presses.

  I shrug. “Neither of us was thrilled to have to, but yeah. That was the only option. Can he really force us to stay married?”

  Felicity shakes her head. “He can’t. It just won’t be as straightforward or fast.”

  I slowly breathe out. “Okay.”

  “He’ll come to his senses soon, Wren. There was a lot of emotion tonight, especially with Luke. Maybe he thinks if you stay married, that will make it all worth it—make it okay somehow,” Emma says.

  I frown. Can he really think that Luke will be okay with this if he made us stay married?

  No, that’s not Brody. He’d rather take a punch and then move on.

  “Should I follow him?” I ask.

  My heart thuds with the uncertainty. This need for the marriage to be fixed now. Brody has to talk to me.

  “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Emma says. “Give him some time.”

  “Mase, Dad, Louise, and James aren’t giving him time. They’re not the ones who are currently married to him,” I tell her. “I have to sort this out.”

  “You will,” Mum says. “But right now, Brody isn’t in the best place to have that conversation.”

  “What do you think he’s doing?” I ask Felicity.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not positive, but… I think he genuinely likes you, Wren.”

  I take a breath. “Then, he could ask me on a date, not to stay his wife.”

  “Cut him some slack, hon. He’s never done this before. I’m sure he’ll see that you can’t stay married, but he needs a minute to sort through his feelings. Lines have become rather blurred, haven’t they?”

  I purse my lips because she’s bloody right. The lines are so blurry that I can barely see them. We were stupid to keep having sex; it’s made everything so much more complicated.

  “Wren, can I see the marriage certificate and the correspondence from your lawyer?” Mum asks.

  “You can, but it’s all real. Very, very real,” I tell her.

  Swallowing hard, she nods.

  “I can’t sit here,” I say. “I’m going to Brody’s.”

  Emma groans. “Wren, come on.”

  “No. This is between him and me. Sitting here speculating isn’t doing anything.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Felicity says.

  I can drive myself, but I get it. She thinks my mind is spiralling too much to concentrate on the road. She wouldn’t be wrong.

  “We should come, too,” Emma says, looking at Mum.

  “No, this needs to be between the two of us. It’s our mess.”

  Mum and Emma watch us leave.

  I get in Felicity’s car and watch out of the window as she drives. Knowing that I’m done for now, she doesn’t try to speak. I don’t know what I’ll say to Brody when we get there. He’s probably defensive, so I have to be careful.

  “Wren,” Felicity says softly, “we’re here.”

  Looking over, I realise we’re outside his house and she’s parked at the side of the road. Only Brody’s car is in the drive, so he’s clearly sent everyone else away. I didn’t notice them driving back to their house.

  “Do you want me to stay?” she asks.

  “Thanks, but I need to do this alone.”

  “Call if you need anything. I can pick you up later if you need me to.”

  I nod and grip hold of the door handle.

  My legs are jelly as I get out and stand up.

  “Don’t sleep with him,” Felicity calls, adding a touch of humour to a situation that is so fucking unfunny.

  With a small smile, I shake my head and shut her car door.

  I walk into Brody’s building and take the stairs to his apartment. The number 316 has never looked as scary. Raising my hand, I jab my finger into the doorbell and hold my breath.

  The door is yanked open with such force that I jump back.

  Brody’s hard eyes soften a touch a heartbeat after he notices it’s me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Classic. “I think we need to talk.”

  With a deep breath, he moves aside. His blue eyes are swimming with angry confusion.

  I probably have the same expression.

  Walking into his apartment, I turn and fold my arms. Brody lets the door slam behind him.

  “You don’t want a divorce.”

  It’s not a question because he already told me he doesn’t. Brody thinks he’s not signing anything. I want to keep this nice and get him to think about what he’s doing because it’s crazy. I don’t want to have to tell him that I don’t need his signature. If he won’t sign, we can still get divorced. Neither of us want it to be forced.

  “Doesn’t this feel wrong to you?” he asks. “Even a little bit? I feel sick when I think about signing it.”

  “I’m not happy about the situation, Brody, but we don’t have another option. An annulment isn’t going to happen, as we’ve been told before.”

  “We have another option.”

  What? We do?

  My eyes bulge as I finally catch up. “You actually want to stay married.”

  “At least for now, I do.” He throws his hands up. “Look, I… all I can do is go with how I feel.”

  “For now? Why? What does that even mean? And until when?”

  Wincing, he takes a step back like he’s seriously struggling with this. He’s not the only one. “I don’t have all the answers.”

  “How about any of them? You can’t drop that bomb on me and not explain.”

  “I don’t know how to explain.”

  I’m going to hit him. Grinding my teeth, I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. “That’s not good enough,” I growl. “You’re asking a lot from me.”

  “I get that.”

  “And you’re asking me to do it blind because you can’t give me a good enough reason why we shouldn’t get divorced.”

  Groaning, he replies, “I get that, too.”

  “I know it’s scary, and I hate it as much as you do, but I need you to sign the paperwork. We still have ages before it gets submitted.”

  He stares through me like I’m speaking a different language.

  “Think about it, Brody. We can’t stay married.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s crazy! We’re young and not even together.”

  He didn’t get down on one knee. We didn’t spend months planning our big day or celebrate with our families. Mum didn’t take me dress shopping, and Dad didn’t walk me down the aisle.

  That’s how you’re supposed to do it, right? Besides
, you’re meant to want to be married.

  “We’ve never had a chance,” he says quietly.

  “Then, ask me on a date, Brody. Don’t force me to stay your wife.”

  His back straightens. “Force?”

  Okay, perhaps that was a bit strong. He can make it difficult, but he can’t keep me chained to him forever.

  “Brody…”

  “You can’t even wait five minutes before signing? Not until we figure out what this is?” he says, gesturing between us.

  “It’s not going to make a difference. Even if there is more than sex to it all, I don’t want to be married.”

  Clenching his jaw, he raises his eyes to the ceiling. “You need to go, Wren.”

  His voice, cold and detached, punches me in the stomach.

  “Brody, I—”

  His hands ball into fists, and he freezes. “Go.”

  Chapter 50

  Brody

  When Wren slams my door behind her, I let out a long breath and boot my foot into the wall.

  Pain slices through my foot, and I growl. “Fuck.”

  Limping, I make my way to the sofa and sit down. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t really blame her reaction. I’m the dickhead who can’t make sense of anything to do with us.

  She asked me what I meant as if she expected me to be able to explain.

  It’s a feeling. Whatever this is between us is unexplainable. I like her, and I don’t feel the divorce is a good idea anymore. Maybe it is. Clean slate and all that. There’s something refreshing to starting again. Doesn’t feel that way with Wren, though. I want to get to know her more and see where this goes while we’re married.

  Would the marriage even interfere? All we have is a piece of paper, and that’s easily forgotten.

  I’m asking too much. She said the same, and she was right. This wasn’t the plan and it’s unfair of me to ask her to change it.

  But how can she think that storming ahead with a divorce is the best thing to do? What if we end up together?

  Shaking my head, I lift my foot and carefully place it on the coffee table, ignoring the throb. I’m considering forever with Wren.

  If I had to spend the rest of my life with someone, she’s the one I would choose. She is it.

  But I don’t have to. Fucking hell, I’m in my early twenties. Why the hell am I even thinking about staying married?

  Wren doesn’t want to be married, so why the fuck do I?

  We had a good time, great sex, an epic story. Now, we need to go back to normal. I’m not down for commitment, and she doesn’t do one-night stands. Not to mention, her brother is my best friend, present moment excluded. A friend who is pissed as hell at me. I’ve not even tried contacting Luke yet, and I know better than to pester him while he’s this fucked off. He blows like a volcano and then soon simmers down. I’m better off texting him tomorrow and seeing if he wants to meet up.

  He’s not punched me yet. I’ll let him have one, and then hopefully, that’ll be the end of it.

  Yeah, right, you fucked and married his sister.

  It’s worse because it’s Little Wren, too. He wouldn’t have freaked out nearly as much if it had been Emma. God, Emma and I would be awful together—much worse than me and Wren, and we’re hardly the perfect match. One of us would end up buried under the patio.

  Everything points towards me being better off alone.

  I’m a fucking idiot to think that I can do anything more than have sex and a friendship with her.

  When my foot stops throbbing, I get up and pour a large whiskey. Then, I plant myself in front of the TV.

  No one but my mother has tried to call me since I told everyone to do one. They got the message. I need time. Though, I’m not sure what time is going to do for my mind. Wren will expect me to sign the paperwork when it arrives. It should be soon—tomorrow, probably, since she already has hers.

  I should force myself to sign it. That will make everyone happy.

  Everyone but me.

  I go to bed much earlier than usual because my body is spent.

  When I wake, for a nanosecond, everything is fine. Wren isn’t mad at me, Luke doesn’t want to strangle me, our families aren’t disappointed with me, and I still want a divorce.

  Then, it hits. I’m hurting so many people, but I don’t know how to let Wren go. She’s the first person I have had feelings for, and I don’t want to lose that.

  I force myself from my bed and into the shower. I’ve not even checked my phone yet because there will either be a lot of messages, which will piss me off, or nothing, which will also piss me off.

  They will all be rallying around Wren, talking about how to get me to see sense and sign the paperwork that will end our tie to each other.

  Well, good luck. I’m not going on sense here. I’m going on heart.

  I’ve never done that before, so it’s not hard to see why it’s blown up in my face.

  I really would make a terrible husband. Wren is better off without any legal ties to me.

  But I’m too much of a selfish bastard to let her go that easily.

  After my shower, I make tea and toast and down it quick. I’ll be at work early, but at least my mind will be on something else.

  Only when I’ve finished eating and brushed my teeth do I check my phone.

  Mase, Dad, and Felicity called. Mum texted, and so did Rachel.

  Nothing from Luke. Not even a message telling me to go to Hell. To be fair, I don’t expect it yet. He’ll be waiting for me to make the first move, which I’ll do later because I’m the one who got smashed and married his sister.

  The drive to work is quicker since normal people are still drinking tea at home.

  My phone rings through the car. It’s Wren.

  My lungs deflate.

  I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and pull over into a supermarket car park. If I answer that, I’m going to have to have the same conversation again. She’s not going to suddenly see it my way.

  I can’t hear her telling me she doesn’t want to stay married to me again. That was one of the hardest things I’d been told. Before I married Wren, I had honestly never thought about the day I would tie the knot.

  The call rings off, and I close my eyes, lying back against the headrest.

  She’ll be losing her mind with worry, stressing over the divorce and whether she will have to “force” it. Fuck, that’s shitty. I mean, it makes sense; you should never have to stay married to someone you don’t love, but it sounds so damn harsh for me.

  I take a rattling breath as the doors of my car feel like they’re falling in. I don’t have a lot of time to convince her that I’m right. If I didn’t think that she felt the same, I would drop it and sign the divorce papers in a heartbeat. I’m not wrong about this, but I have no fucking clue how to make her realise that.

  We might not work out, but I would rather wait and find out.

  Who knows if she’ll give me the chance after the way I dropped the bomb though?

  I turn the car around, my lungs burning, and stomach tied in knots. I’m taking a sick day.

  Chapter 51

  Wren

  He’s not answering the fucking phone! How can the prick tell me he wants a goddamn marriage and then ignore me when I don’t instantly agree?

  Not exactly selling it right now, Brody.

  I tried to call first thing, and then again on my lunch break. I now have an hour left of volunteering, and then I get to go home and be ignored again.

  Yeah, I’m too chicken to go to his apartment again.

  Last night, I had to call Felicity to pick me up, and she had only just gotten home.

  The litter of puppies are doing well. They’re the cutest things ever, all fuzzy and doe-eyed. Four of the five survived. I’m sitting with them in their kennel while they run around all over me on their fluffy blue bed shared with their mum. She’s out for a walk and what I assume is a much-needed break from four hyper puppies.

  They�
�re exactly what I need today. The smallest one, the puppy that was the most likely to die, sits on my lap. She’s jet-black with big brown eyes.

  I would rescue her if Mum and Dad would allow a puppy in their house.

  Maybe Brody would let me have one if I moved in with him. A puppy for a marriage.

  Okay, I’m delirious. And he’s lost it.

  Brody, the guy who fears nothing, is scared of being a divorcé. Not that I’m not either. Will I have to tell anyone? Will I be looked down upon for having a failed marriage? Why do I care? I don’t care very much what people think, but for some reason, I can’t shake the negative connotations associated with divorce.

  Ugh, why couldn’t that bitch have just given us the damn annulment?

  She probably has a quota to fill, and we’d have tipped her over.

  Fuck her and fuck Brody.

  The puppy on my lap nuzzles into my leg and closes her eyes. I really wish I could lie down and have a cuddle with someone. It would be far easier than having to adult. I’ve had a baptism of fire into adulthood, and I don’t particularly like it.

  “Are you going home today?” Sandra asks.

  I look up and see her standing outside the kennel with her lips curled and her hands on her hips.

  “Erm, yeah, in a minute.”

  “Everything all right?”

  I shrug. “Sure. These guys are addictive.”

  “They’re very cute, but they’ll also still be here when you’re back next week.”

  Yeah, yeah. I carefully lift the puppy and put her on the bed. She glances at me with annoyance for a second but settles right back onto the fleece bed.

  I open the door and do a mega ninja move to slip out before the rest of the puppies pull a great escape and run off.

  Sandra smiles as I lock the kennel. “On your way out, pick up the application I left by your handbag. We’re recruiting.”

  My eyes bulge. “Full-time?”

  With a laugh, she nods. “We’re expanding, looking at different paid avenues to support the shelter. More dogs than ever need refuge.”

  Sandra is awesome. She gives up so much of her time and money to help animals. I knew the shelter was doing well, and the local community is a massive support; I suspect that’s due to loving Sandra as well as wanting to help abandoned and abused dogs. But I didn’t expect to be able to apply so soon.

 

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