by Ivy Jordan
Blake was quiet, too quiet, as we left the hospital. I squeezed back into the passenger seat of her car, and waited for what I knew was to come.
“We have to tell her the truth,” she blurted out as we drove through town.
“And cause her blood pressure to go up even higher?” I scoffed.
“It’s not fair. It’s not right,” Blake argued, tears forming in her eyes.
“She’s going to be fine. She just needs medication and a better diet,” I explained.
“I don’t like the feeling of fooling an old woman of denying her a last wish,” she sobbed, pulling into my shop parking lot next to my truck.
I sat there, unsure what to do, what to say. I didn’t want to hurt my abuela, but I didn’t want to lose Blake. Things were going great, and we were getting along perfectly. Soon, if everything happened as I hoped, there would be nothing to lie about.
“I think we should give us some time,” I insisted.
“Us, there’s no us; there’s just a big fat lie,” Blake snapped.
Her words hurt me, deeply. I opened the door, got out, and walked to my truck. She was already pulled out and on the road before I could unlock my door and climb into the driver’s seat. I wasn’t sure if she was going home, or back to the library, but it was obvious she wasn’t planning on falling in love with me and living happily ever after.
I drove home, unwilling and unable to focus on work. The house was empty; Blake obviously headed back to the library to work, or to just stay away from me.
I opened a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured a drink over some ice. I stared out the window as I sat on the couch, just waiting for her to get home. Hours went by, and several drinks made their way past my lips, leaving me in a drunken stupor by the time Blake’s car pulled into the driveway.
It was almost dark, the sun already nesting behind the trees, and the air becoming cool. She walked into the front door, her expression filled with irritation as she stared in my direction. I was drunk, I could admit that, but I was also hurt, mad, devastated. A feeling in my gut that I didn’t recognize had taken over. It wasn’t hunger; it wasn’t the anger or the sadness; it was something else, like an ache. It was something I’d never felt before.
“You’re drunk,” Blake snarled.
“No shit,” I spat back at her.
“You think that’s a good idea?” she questioned.
“Only idea I had,” I chuckled.
“I’m going to bed,” Blake announced, starting to head down the hall.
“Our sheets came today, but I guess you don’t want em’ now,” I blasted at her.
She turned, looked in my direction with narrowed eyes and tight lips. She didn’t speak, but her eyes said plenty. She was disgusted with me, angry with me, and possibly even done with me.
“That’s what I thought,” I sighed, feeling my perfect life crumble from underneath me.
Chapter Twenty
Blake
Aiden reeked of whiskey and hadn’t been to work in two days. Liana called, telling me Anna-Marie was home, and she couldn’t get in touch with Aiden. I covered for him, telling her he’d had a cold, and was home sick in bed.
“Your abuela is home,” I told him as he sat at the kitchen table.
He turned towards me, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and a ridiculous intake of alcohol. I was furious that he seemed not to care about anything.
“Don’t you want to clean up and go see her?” I asked.
He shook his head, grunted, and turned back to his drink.
I didn’t like seeing him this way, but I didn’t feel as though there was anything I could do about it.
I grabbed my purse and headed out the front door. If he wouldn’t visit his grandmother, then I would, alone.
On the drive over, I fought back tears. I knew part of what was bugging Aiden was my threats to tell his family the truth, but I didn’t understand why it was such a huge deal to him. So, they would be angry, and probably a little hurt, but they’d get over it, and so would he.
I pulled into the small driveway to Anna-Marie’s house. The lights were on, and the television glowed through the window. I turned off my car, sitting there for a few moments, unsure of what I would say. I knew she’d ask about Aiden, and of course, I’d tell her the same story I told Liana, but face to face I wasn’t a great liar, and the fear of her seeing through my story had me shaken.
I got out of my car after taking a few deep breaths and walked to Anna-Marie’s front door. I rang the bell, waited until I heard her moving inside, and stepped to the side so she could see me through her peephole in the door.
“Blake, what a surprise,” she said sweetly as she opened the door.
She stepped out of the way, motioning for me to come inside, and looked past my shoulder, obviously checking for Aiden.
“Are you alone?” she asked.
I nodded. “Aiden’s not feeling well,” I said quickly, hoping that would be the end of that.
No such luck.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, but he’s been home the last two days,” I replied, none of which was a lie.
“Oh dear, I hope the stress of me being in the hospital didn’t get him all worked up. Those nasty viruses can attack when you’re at your weakest, ya know?” she stated.
Her home smelled of vanilla. There weren’t any candles lit, no sighs of air freshener bottles, and I knew there was no way she’d been baking, but vanilla soared through the entire home.
A floral couch sat in the center of the room, one that had to be at least thirty years old, but looked like new. Her coffee table had ornate spindling around the top, matching end tables, and lamps with floral shades that almost matched the couch fabric perfectly.
The place was immaculate, impressive for a woman of her age. It hadn’t changed since I was a kid, remembering being there once or twice.
“Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” she offered.
“No. I just wanted to check on you, see how you’re feeling,” I stated.
“Oh, I’m just fine. Getting old has a lot of bumps in the road, but I’m in four-wheel drive; I can handle it,” she chuckled.
I couldn’t help but laugh. The woman was feisty, that was for sure. Even though older, she was probably in better shape than I was, or even Aiden. So, her blood pressure was high; that happens, and it doesn’t mean she was suffering from any issues. All her tests came back negative, and her heart proved to be stronger than most thirty-year-olds.
“You look great,” I admitted, having a seat on the couch that belonged in a museum for ancient furniture.
“You look like something’s troubling you,” Anna-Marie said calmly, taking a seat beside me.
I shook my head.
She took my hand in hers, squeezed it tightly, and stared into my eyes so deeply I could see her soul, feel it touching my heart.
I fought back tears. Her kindness was more than I could handle, especially after the two days I’d endured living with a drunken Aiden, and not to mention the pain of keeping the horrible lie from her that he and I were not really in love. Well, that he wasn’t in love with me.
“You can tell me,” she insisted.
I really couldn’t.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice cracking as I spoke.
“The marriage having trouble?” she asked.
Oh, if she only knew.
“Everything’s fine. Maybe I’m just coming down with whatever Aiden has,” I explained.
Yeah, I was coming down with the drinking too much virus that makes you an asshole. Great.
“I’m old, but I’m not stupid,” Anna-Marie said sternly.
“Oh, no, I would never think you were,” I stammered.
“Then spill it,” she insisted, her eyes kind and forgiving.
Would she forgive what we’d done? How could she forgive us for lying to her, tricking her into thinking we were going to give her great-grandchildren, her only wis
h?
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” I replied politely.
“Well, I can’t force you to tell me anything you don’t want to,” she smiled.
“I probably should go check on Aiden,” I said quickly, shifting in my seat.
“You know, when I was a girl, and when my mother was a girl, marriages were arranged still,” she said bluntly.
Her comment caught me off-guard, causing me to stare at her with confusion as she spoke.
“Sometimes the couple didn’t even know each other. There were times when they didn’t even lay eyes on each other until their wedding day,” she went on.
“That would be horrible,” I gasped, unable to imagine living in those days or having a family that still believed in that method of marriage.
“It wasn’t so bad, not always,” she said with a smile.
“But you’d be marrying a stranger,” I protested.
“One picked for you by your family,” she said sternly.
“I don’t know if I’d want my family picking my husband,” I chuckled, thinking about who Liam would select as my mate.
I paused, suddenly realizing that Liam would probably pick Aiden if given the chance. He was angry at our marriage, but it was due to the lie, not the union. He actually seemed happy to see us together.
“I met my husband when I was just a girl. He was older, and I had a horrible crush on him. He worked at the local market, and I’d always find an extra few pennies to come inside and get a slice of cheese,” she smiled.
I leaned back in my seat, actually enjoying hearing about Anna-Marie’s life. It was something I’d never heard before, and I wondered if even Aiden had heard the story of his grandparents’ love.
“My father told me I was to be married when I was seventeen, that he’d found me a mate. All I could think of was my dear sweet market man,” she giggled.
“So, he chose your husband?” I questioned, surprised.
“Oh yeah, and I hated him. I slammed my door, cursed at him, and refused to marry this man he’d chosen. How could my father choose the man I would marry, the one I would love?” she added.
My heart ached for her, hating that she was raised in such a home.
“So, did you marry him?” I asked, now extremely intrigued.
“My father said he was coming to dinner, that I would meet him, and be polite. He warned me not to ruin it because as my looks weren’t the best, he felt I didn’t have many prospects. So, dinner time came, and the doorbell rang. I hid in my room, refusing to come out. My mother came in, apologized for the way things were, but told me there wasn’t anything I could do. I was going to be an adult, and without a husband, I would not be able to care for myself. They were poor, so taking care of a child was one thing, but an adult was an entirely different thing. She talked me into coming downstairs, to at least meet the man I would marry in less than a week, so I did,” she continued.
“What happened?” I asked, now on the edge of my seat.
“It was the man from the market. My heart raced when I saw his face. His eyes were so pure, so kind, and even though he hadn’t given me a second look when I’d come into his store so many times a week, sometimes a day, I could tell his heart was kind, and he would love me because I loved him,” she smiled.
I was in shock. It was quite a story, and one with a happy ending. I’d heard her talk about how much she loved him, how much she missed him, and Aiden told me several times how he doted on her and thought she was the best thing that ever happened to him. He once said he wanted a marriage like that, which made me believe he probably had no idea how it started.
“You got lucky,” I smiled.
“Yes, I did. But, it goes to show, marriages that are set up, for convenience, or whatever reason, they can work, especially if there are feelings already in place,” she smirked in my direction.
I watched her carefully as she winked. My heart raced. What was she saying?
“I guess, but I still think you got lucky,” I brushed off her comment, trying to believe it was just a comment, nothing more.
“I think you got lucky too,” she smiled.
“How so?” I asked cautiously.
“With Aiden. You had a crush on him when you were just a little girl. I watched you bounce around him like a little puppy, trying everything you could to get his attention,” she laughed.
I joined her with the laughter, my nerves starting to relieve.
“He was my older brother’s best friend, so I was just the annoying little sister,” I chuckled.
“Maybe, or maybe he had feelings too, especially after you’d grown into a beautiful young woman,” she said softly.
“I guess he did; after all, we ended up married,” I smiled, trying to play it off.
“Oh, dear, I know that’s just an arrangement,” she announced.
My pulse raced, my heart pounded against my chest, and my palms started to sweat. What did she mean she knew?
“Excuse me?” I gasped, trying to act as if I was confused.
“Aiden hadn’t so much as spoke to you, then all of a sudden, you’re married?” Anna-Marie chuckled.
I didn’t speak, but I knew my mouth was hanging open in awe.
“Look, I get it, you were trying to make an old woman happy, and that’s sweet, but I still think you two are meant for one another,” she smiled.
“I’m not so sure,” I sighed, admitting defeat in the old woman’s presence.
“You don’t love him?” she questioned.
“I do,” I said softly.
“Then, he doesn’t love you?” she pushed.
“I don’t think so,” I groaned.
“Oh, nonsense. I know he does. Otherwise he wouldn’t have gone through all this. If he was that worried about making my wish come true, he would’ve run out and found someone years ago,” Anna-Marie smiled.
I shrugged, still in shock from her admittance of knowing our hoax.
“Why didn’t you say anything, since you knew?” I asked.
“Because I know that things will happen for you two,” she smiled.
Wow. I was stunned.
“I’m really sorry for lying to you,” I apologized.
“You didn’t lie. You’re married, that’s real, and you love my grandson, that’s also real,” she squeezed my hand in hers. “And, I believe he’s in love with you. He’s not sick; he’s in love.”
I couldn’t imagine that was true. I was certain once I told him that the jig was up, he’d be done with me and the marriage. What would be the point of continuing? The sex was amazing, and I was certain he enjoyed that, hence the reason for wanting to move me into his room, but love, no.
We talked a bit more, mainly her giving me advice on what to do next. I didn’t tell her the problems we’d had or the ones that we were dealing with now, but she seemed to believe that nothing would stand in the way of true love, and for whatever reason, she felt that Aiden and I had that true love.
I kissed her on the cheek as I left, thanking her for understanding. I drove home, confused, in shock, and not sure what I was going to tell Aiden, or how.
When I walked in the front door, Aiden was spread out on the couch, a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, almost gone, and his eyes even more bloodshot then when I left.
“You need to stop acting like a little kid,” I demanded, grabbing the bottle from the table and heading into the kitchen.
I dumped the liquor into the sink, only to be jerked backward by a drunken Aiden.
“You don’t have no right,” he screamed.
“Why? Because I’m not really your wife?” I snapped, jerking away from his grip.
His eyes were blank, void of any emotion, and it was obvious he really had no idea what he was even doing, let alone saying.
“Get a shower and get cleaned up,” I ordered.
He mumbled something I couldn’t make out and then stomped out of the room. I watched as he landed back on the couch, slouched across
the cushions like he’d melted against the fabric. Good lord, he was a mess.
“I may not really be your wife, but I am your friend,” I insisted, standing in front of him, but getting no attention. “Fine,” I sassed, storming off, back into the kitchen.
I grabbed my phone and texted Liam and Luke, explaining to them what was going on. I asked them to come help, and both replied that they would be right there. It was a relief to know help was coming, even though I wasn’t sure what they would do, or could do, to help.
When the truck lights lit up the front window, Aiden sat up on the couch.
“Who’s here?” he slurred, trying to look past the bright blinding lights.
I just laughed, opened the door, and waited for Luke and Liam to get to the door.
When they entered, they took one look at Aiden, and each grabbed an arm.
“You’re coming with us,” Luke said sternly, lifting at the same time as Liam.
“Get the fuck off me,” Aiden protested, trying to kick his way out of their grip. It was useless; they had a good hold on him, and they weren’t letting go.
I watched as they walked him through the kitchen and then out the back door. I followed, curious as to what they were going to do. When I walked outside, I heard Aiden yelling, slurring, and cursing at the men who were only there to help, to sober him up once and for all.
“I don’t have any reason to give a fuck,” Aiden shouted.
A large splash spilled out of the pool as Liam and Luke tossed Aiden into the shallow end. His arms flailed, and he coughed up water before finally reaching the steps, where he fell twice trying to get out.
“You need to get over whatever it is that’s bothering you. You’re acting like a little kid,” I demanded.
“Yeah, this drinking shit is just childish,” Liam added.
“I know what’s bothering you, and you need to face it, do something about it, man up,” Luke demanded.
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but when I noticed Aiden start to display some lucidity, I didn’t care what he meant. It worked. He was starting to act like he was sobering up.
“Your abuela knows; she told me tonight,” I blurted out, hoping that the shock of that would snap him out of it.
