He leaned forward, studying me with concern. "But what?"
I shook my head slowly. "It's..." What was it, really? That I'd spent far too much time with Nicholas? Which I wouldn't have done if it weren't for... "The gambling. I hate how much time he's spending there. Time and money, but he says he's saved the cash for it so it's mostly the time. I've hardly seen him."
"But you got to--" He stopped himself then changed direction. "You haven't spent even an evening with him lately?"
"Yes," I admitted, "but by the way I know that was all your doing."
He shook his head. "Not all. I just suggested it might be a good idea. He carried it out. You did have fun though, right?"
"Yeah, we did." Though it seemed like decades ago, we had. We were compatible physically, especially when we'd been drinking, and we'd had a good time talking too although the trout-head issue had put a damper on our dinner. "It was a great night."
"You see?" He patted my hand. "It's just nerves, Melissa. It makes sense if you think about it. Getting married is a huge commitment, and nobody goes into it wanting to get divorced, so you're basically saying you want to spend the rest of your life with one person. That's kind of a big deal."
Especially when you haven't known that one person for even three months yet.
Derek knew from our first meeting how long I'd been with Owen, and with something approaching amusement I watched him remember and scramble to say, "But when you know it's right, you just know. A week from now, you'll think back on this moment and know you've done exactly the right thing."
I looked into his earnest blue eyes and felt his certainty sinking into me. "I do love Owen," I said. "I was so surprised when he proposed but so happy too." I studied my engagement ring, remembering how I'd felt when he slid it onto my finger, the delight that flooded me at knowing I'd finally get married as I'd always wanted to do. He was a good man. "We were fine before the cruise so we'll be fine once we get home."
He grinned. "That's the spirit. Feeling any better?"
I nodded. Just nerves. Nothing more. I would remember that and keep telling myself not to worry. "Thank you. If you ever get tired of the wedding planner gig you could be a therapist."
He laughed. "That's what my girlfriend says I am now, dealing with all you nervous brides."
"Your girlfriend? Is she on the ship?"
He shook his head. "She's finishing up her grad degree in psychology. But she'll be done next summer, and then I'm going to quit this job and go back to California and propose." He smiled. "She hates planning things, but I know she wants a big wedding, so I took this job so I could learn how to put together the wedding of her dreams."
My heart melted like the bite of chocolate I'd just taken. I swallowed and said, "Really? That's why you're doing this?"
He gave me a sheepish grin. "It does pay a little better than my old job too. But yeah, mostly. Lame, huh?"
I shook my head. "Not even a little bit. Sweet." I tapped the plate of chocolate. "Sweeter than this."
"Well, now, don't get carried away."
We smiled at each other, and I wondered whether Owen was planning anything sweet for our wedding or our new lives together.
Chapter Thirty
Dinner that evening was a nightmare. Nicholas and I could barely look at each other, and I hated that by shutting down our inappropriate relationship we'd lost our friendly one too. Trying to act natural felt incredibly awkward, and I wondered if everyone at the table was watching us and realizing there was something going on.
Nicole, the one who'd be the worst problem if she did realize, was the one paying the least attention to us, but I'd almost have preferred that to what she did focus on.
She described, in endless detail, how beautiful Brandy's wedding had been the night before, raving about the huge wedding party and how sweet it had been watching her dad walk her down the aisle and how over-the-top-gorgeous and elegant her dress was "since it didn't have even a single thread of lace on it".
Given that she knew my dress had a lace layer over the skirt, and that she knew Wendy was the sum total of our wedding party and that my dad wasn't present, I couldn't help wondering if she was deliberately shooting holes in my wedding for some reason.
If Owen had been there it might have been a little easier, but he'd sent me an email at about six forty-five, as we all sat waiting for him so we could order our dinners, to say he was caught up in a game and couldn't make it. So I spent my time at the table feeling sick and angry and humiliated but insisting to Austin I was fine as he gently teased me, and trying to make conversation around Nicole's dissing of my wedding plans without looking at Nicholas, and by the time the meal was finally over and I could escape I felt lower than a barnacle on the bottom of the cruise ship.
Wendy, my lovely friend, clearly noticed I wasn't exactly a happy camper, because she invited me to go with her and Mark to watch a movie in the ship's theater. The mere thought of a movie made the memories of watching Hatchet Monster with Nicholas rush up in a painful flood, but I couldn't imagine what I'd do with myself for the evening all alone so I made myself smile and say yes.
I also made myself chatter nonstop on the way to the movie, right until it started, and after it finished, because I knew she wanted to ask what was going on. Wendy was far too observant for my good, and there was no way she didn't know Nicholas was the cause of my demeanor. She let me get away with it for far longer than I'd have expected, but eventually said, "Look, Melissa, my ears are going numb. Stop yammering on and tell me what you really want to say."
I'd thought I wanted to tell her everything, but that was before Derek had made me believe my problem was just nerves. So I said those two words, then added, "I'll be fine after the wedding."
Thoughtful duck time, and she said, "It's days until that. Isn't there any way you can relax and enjoy the cruise?"
I raised my head, took a deep breath, and said, "What do you mean? I am enjoying it. But I've got a bit of a headache so I think I'll head back to my stateroom. Thanks for letting me tag along to the movie."
"You're not a tag-along," Mark said before Wendy could speak. "We love hanging out with you."
He sounded sincere, and that touched me enough, but the warm loving smile Wendy gave him broke the dams to my tear ducts. I mumbled something, forced a smile, said my head was really hurting, and bolted to my room before she could stop me.
Once I got there, I sent her an email to say I'd be okay after a little extra sleep so would be turning off my phone, then did turn it off because I didn't want to have her answer me. All I wanted was oblivion.
Not bothering to change clothes, I slipped into bed, curling onto my side and adjusting my pillow beneath my head.
My fingertips brushed something cool and velvety.
I reached under the pillow and pulled out a black velvet jewelry box with a swirled silver logo, exactly like the box that currently held my diamond earrings in the room's safe. Inside this box was a beautiful diamond solitaire necklace, the stone a little larger than the ones in the earrings, and a tightly folded note.
Mel, I hope this makes up for my absences on the cruise. Love you. O.
I took off my starfish necklace, which I'd worn non-stop since I'd bought it with Nicholas, then put the diamond necklace on and stared at it in the mirror, my dinner churning uncomfortably in my stomach. Of course it didn't make up for his absences. It just made them worse, because it proved he knew he was ignoring me and figured he could fix it by throwing a gift in my direction.
I wanted a love that would change my world, like I'd felt radiating from Stephanie and Rob, not a jewelry collection that would break my heart every time I looked at it.
Squeezing the pillow hard, I let all the pain and frustration and confusion of the last few days flow from me in my tears. On one level I felt ridiculous, since "I'm on a cruise ship wearing a diamond necklace from my fiancé" wasn't exactly the kind of thing that should make me cry, but it was so much more than that.
Eventually I pulled myself together and went to take a shower, not wanting to let Owen see how upset I was if he ever bothered to leave the casino. As the hot water poured down on me, I somehow made myself feel both better and worse by realizing that I didn't know if I could have anything at all with Nicholas.
He was with Nicole, and though he had said they weren't doing well he also hadn't said he was planning to leave her any time soon. He was staying in a crappy situation because he didn't have the drive to find something better. Just like he had before.
Just like I was?
I tried to send myself back in time to the morning of the day we'd boarded the cruise ship, tried to remember how I'd felt about Owen back then. I'd said yes when he proposed, knowing even though my shock that he and I were good together, and we'd been happy together and happy as we approached the ship. Well, happy once we were on board, anyhow. It hadn't seemed like a crappy situation, not in the least.
But since we met we'd barely had time to breathe, never mind really think, and now I was thinking and I wasn't sure I liked my thoughts.
Did I really love Owen, with the kind of love Stephanie and Wendy had for their men, or did I love the idea of being married?
I did love that, I had to admit. Since I wanted kids, and I wanted those kids to be born into a stable relationship, I had been wanting to get married for years.
My cruel mind tossed me that moment on the observation deck, after our amazing day together yesterday, when Nicholas touched my mouth and told me how much he wanted to kiss me, and I scrubbed my face with my hands and tried to deny the undeniable fact that if I really wanted to marry Owen I would not have reacted so fiercely to Nicholas. Not just to that caress, but to his presence and his smiles and the feel of his hand in mine.
I was crying again before I knew it, and even getting out of the shower and into my pajamas and then into bed didn't slow the flood. In fact, it worsened when I saw the necklace glinting against my skin before my pajamas covered it. In less than five days I would be married to a man who genuinely thought a diamond mattered more to me than his absence.
Unfortunately, I was crying so hard I didn't know I wasn't alone until I heard Owen say, "Mel?"
I gave a squeak of surprise and sat up.
He sat down next to me. "Aw, come on. It's okay."
"It's not. Not even close."
I got up to go wash my face but he caught my wrist. "Hold on. Did you find the necklace?"
I nodded. "It's gorgeous. But..." Tears rose again but I forced them back.
"But what? Is it not big enough? They have more in the shop and we can change it if you want to."
He'd bought it here. I'd assumed he'd brought at least the earrings from home but no, they were in the same kind of box as the necklace so all of the jewelry had come from the onboard shop. It bothered me, for some reason.
I took a long deep breath and let it out slowly, using the air to calm myself so I could talk. Eventually, I said, "It's not the size. It's not about the necklace at all. Presents don't make up for you not being around. I had no idea the cruise would be like this, me being on my own so much, and if I'd known I..."
I trailed off as our eyes met. He finished the sentence for me. "You wouldn't have come."
I nodded, although I thought it went deeper than that. I might not have agreed to his proposal if I'd thought he could ignore me so completely.
He sighed and slid his arm around my shoulder. "Mel. Look. You don't understand."
I pulled away. "Sure I do. You love gambling."
The words I didn't say, "more than you love me," hung in the air anyhow and he responded to them. "I do love you." He shook his head slowly. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but... I think that if I gambled anywhere else but here I might have a problem."
He had a problem, me, because he was doing it here, but I didn't say anything because I didn't understand what he meant.
Another sigh from him. "Okay. I do love gambling. It... it's like the room gets brighter when I'm doing it. But I'm afraid that if I did it at home it might take over my life." He put his arm around me again. "Mel, I think I could be addicted to it if I let that happen."
I blinked, trying to process this. I'd thought he was just having fun, although admittedly he seemed a little more committed than most people in the casino. "Addicted?"
He nodded. "When I'm here I have limits on myself. I use only the money I've been saving up over the last year, and I spread it out over the days of the cruise so there's always some to use. After the cruise, it usually takes me a week or two to get back to real life and not be thinking about gambling all the time, but then I do and everything's fine."
I looked down at my engagement ring. I didn't know what 'get back to real life' meant but I suspected he'd be grouchy while he came down from the highs of his gambling, and I hated the idea of that being the start of our married life. I had a bigger issue to handle, though. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged. "I figured there was no point burdening you with it. I have it under control on my own. You were busy with the wedding and all that, and I knew I could handle it. I've done it for years."
But none of those years were while we were together. Again I felt the weight of marrying a man I hadn't even known for one full season. "What," I said, trying to sound calm and reasonable and non-judgmental, "did you think I'd be doing while you were in the casino?"
"I figured you'd be with me," he said at once. "I really thought you'd love it once you tried it. Maybe if we went back and tried it again you would."
I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so."
We sat in silence for a few moments, until he said, "Well, by this time next week we'll be home and married and everything will be fine. No more casino until next year."
Next year. I hadn't even thought of that. We'd be back for the family cruise again. Owen would spend it in the casino, and I would spend it trying to resist my bond with Nicholas. Or watching him with another woman.
I dropped my head onto Owen's shoulder, too tired and defeated to hold it up any more.
Owen's arm tightened around me. "You're okay now, right?"
"Yeah," I said on a sigh. "Fine. I do think you should have told me, though."
He released me and shifted away enough that I needed to sit upright. "I said why I didn't."
I looked at his face and realized he genuinely didn't get it. "Owen, we're going to be married. That makes us a team. Partners. I should know stuff like that."
"But it didn't really matter."
"Well, it does to me. I want to know we're sharing things." A thought struck me. "Is there anything else I don't know?"
"No."
"Think for a second before you answer."
He brushed his fingers over my cheek and took a deliberate pause before saying, "Nothing. I am an open book."
I looked into his eyes and believed him. "What kind of book?"
He considered. "Spy novel."
"Why?"
"Because there's always a gorgeous woman in those."
He cut off my giggle with a kiss, then murmured, "I love you," against my lips and began undressing me. I returned the favor, needing desperately to reconnect with him.
We made love, then cuddled up together to fall asleep.
I'd kept my mind focused entirely on him, but my last thought before sleep took me was, "Nicholas would have said he was a horror novel."
Chapter Thirty-One
At a bit before eight the next morning, my phone dinged to signal an email.
"I'll get it," Owen said, his voice still rough with sleep. "You stay in bed."
I didn't even consider arguing. We'd
been snuggled together for fifteen minutes or so, warm and drowsy, and I didn't want to move. I didn't want him to move either, but I did want to know who was contacting me.
I stuck one hand out of the blankets and took the phone when he returned, then curled up on my side and let my back press against his air-cooled chest. "You got cold out there."
He wound an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. "You can fix it."
I read my message with half-asleep eyes.
Big sailing excursion today. Mark's all excited about it and I guess I am too because he's so cute when he gets like that. We leave in half an hour and there's still room for more people. You in?
When I relayed this to Owen, he said, "I'll go with you if you want but to be honest I'm not a huge fan of sailing." He drew me even tighter against him. "I like where we are now."
"Yeah, me too." I realized what he'd said. "Wait, you'd go with me? You're not going to the casino?"
He kissed my shoulder. "I will at some point, maybe late afternoon and into the evening. But if you're up for it I'd like to spend the morning and then have lunch and whatever with you."
Having that kind of time together would help me get back to where we'd been pre-cruise, and I was glad he wanted to see me, so I told Wendy that I'd be staying with Owen. She wished me a good day, and I returned the sentiment, then my fiancé and I stayed in bed together talking lazily about not much until we were too hungry to stay put any longer.
Breakfast was great, my morning cappuccino even more delicious than usual, but as we finished an official-looking guy approached us. Owen stiffened when he saw him, and I knew what was coming even before the guy said, "Mr. Reel, you're signed up for a tournament now. There are people waiting to play if you'd like to withdraw, but I'd need to know now and unfortunately your buy-in would be non-refundable."
Owen turned to me. "It's up to you."
I blinked. "Why?"
"Because I said I'd spend the day with you. I forgot about the tournament."
Uncomfortable doing this with the guy watching us, I said, "But you want to play in it, right?"
Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9) Page 85
