Perhaps this was exactly what we had been missing.
Maybe this was precisely what we each needed.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Her eyes widened, and I nearly cursed at myself for saying the words.
Tears slid down her cheeks as she arched into me and kissed me again.
“I love you.”
And then we shattered.
“I cannot believe we’re doing spring break in Vegas,” Myra said, laughing.
“Everyone else is doing it.” I laughed.
“At least you’re nearly twenty-one. I’m not even close.”
“Nearly twenty-one doesn’t really help in Vegas. But we can still hang out at the pool and see the Hoover Dam and things.”
“And we can do…other things,” Myra said, and my cock hardened.
Apparently, having a girlfriend on spring break would be kick-ass, unlike what my friends had said as they razzed me before they went off to find women for themselves at the pool.
“I don’t think we’re going to need to leave the hotel room often,” I said, and she grinned.
“Oh, so we’re just going to watch movies?”
“Maybe. And you know Dave got us some vodka for the room. That way, we don’t have to go out.” I whispered the words in case others overheard, and she smiled again.
“Okay, I trust you.”
Warmth filled me. “Yeah?”
“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Everything was moving so fast. It felt like I had known her for my entire life. Like I would die without her. I could barely breathe, overwhelmed by the desire to be with her.
So, I kissed her, taking her in.
I still wanted more.
“Let’s get married,” I blurted. She looked up at me, her eyes wide.
“What?” she asked.
“Did I say those words out loud?” I queried, my heart racing.
“Married? Are you serious? We’ve only been together for like six months. I haven’t even met your family yet since they’re all up north and I went home for the holidays.”
“Yeah, that was stupid. I mean, we’re in Vegas, but you know, it should take more than one night before we even drink for us to get married.”
“You really want to get married?”
“Why not?” I asked, the idea making sense now, even though I knew it was idiotic. “We both want the same things in life. We want a future. And you know I love you. What’s stopping us?”
“Everything is,” she said, but then she frowned, looking down at her hands. “Or maybe, nothing is. This could be ours. No one else’s. A decision that we make. One that no one can take away from us.”
I looked down at her, my pulse thudding so hard in my ears I could barely hear anything else. “Married. You and me. We can do this. We can figure out everything else later, but we can get this done now, just you and me. No big brothers or overbearing families telling us what to do.”
“Married.”
“I love you, Myra.”
“And I love you, Nathan. So, yes. I’ll marry you.”
I knew a person’s heart could break. I had read it before. I didn’t know that it could shatter into a thousand pieces as you tried to keep up.
You weren’t supposed to realize that the fate you had set out for yourself was a lie. I thought that making stupid decisions when young was something people did. I didn’t know I would be the one jumping headfirst into secrets and denial.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep the bile back, my whole body shaking. I felt like I was two steps behind.
I looked down at the photos, at the people in front of me, and couldn’t breathe.
The love of my life, my wife, lay in bed with another man, a smile on her face, both of them naked and clearly sated after whatever the hell they had done together in bed.
“Why are you showing this to me?” I asked, my voice breaking. It hadn’t broken like that in so damn long, but I didn’t feel like I was in my twenties right now. I felt like I was ten again. Or maybe fifty. I didn’t know. I just didn’t feel like me.
Myra’s parents sat in front of me, sad expressions on their faces, the pearls around Myra’s mother’s neck bright in the glow of the lights, the crisp suit on her father’s body looking as if it had been custom made for him.
I had never met Myra’s parents before, but I had married their daughter.
I knew we had made a mistake, had gone too fast. But we had both said that we could figure things out and make it work. However, now that we were back in Colorado, it had only been four days—four days, and everything was wrong.
“We wanted to show you what Myra’s boyfriend gave us.”
“Boyfriend?” My hands shook. “But I’m her husband.”
I didn’t miss the tightening of their eyes.
Her mother sighed. “You might have those papers, but you don’t have her heart. You can’t. I meant her boyfriend from back home, where she belongs. He loves her.”
Myra’s father tightened his jaw. “He gave us these photos. Ones they must have taken together. Because, as I said, they love each other. And you can see they’re recent. At least from the past six months. When you said she was with you.”
“She’s been with me the whole time…” I trailed off, trying to work through the lies.
“Nathan, I’m sorry.”
“My name’s Nate.” I hated the word from her mouth. The only person that called me Nathan was Myra. And I never wanted to hear that name again.
“Okay, Nate,” her father began again. “We didn’t want to see these photos, but they came into our possession. And we didn’t know any other way to tell you that Myra has been unfaithful. She’s made mistakes. And she needs to go home. To heal. To get her life together. And you need to let her.”
“I don’t understand. How did you even hear about any of this?”
His hands tightened in front of me, and I swallowed hard. “Myra has responsibilities, family obligations. We always knew where our daughter was. We thought we would let this relationship run its course, but we were wrong about her true intentions. She’s not meant to be with you, Nathan.”
“Nate,” I bit out.
“I’m sorry,” her father said again. “But as you can see, Myra has been lying to you. She’s been lying to all of us. We’re going to take her out of school. Take her home. Get her some help. But we thought you needed to know the truth. We are here for you, Nate.”
I didn’t want to believe them. I knew the photos had to be lies. But the evidence was right in front of me. Myra had cheated on me. I noticed the bracelet on her wrist in the picture. It was the one I had given her for Christmas right before she went back to California. And, apparently, did this.
I thought she had been with me.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“As I said, we’re going to take Myra home now. You need to break up with her. We can get the annulment,” her father elaborated. “That is what’s needed.”
“You can’t get an annulment if the marriage is consummated,” I said without thinking, and her mother blanched.