“What is wrong with you?”
More like what could be wrong with me if I were to choose a honeymoon location that would require Declan to walk around shirtless and wet all day long. Even I know my limits, and that is one of them. After the little show I got last time Declan was shirtless, it’s best we don’t test the waters.
Cal uses the computer mouse to scroll through the newspaper article recommending the Top Ten Honeymoon Spots in the World. “How about Maui?”
I scrunch my nose. “No.”
“Fiji?”
“Pass.”
“I swear, with the way you’re acting, it’s as if you don’t want to go on a honeymoon at all.”
“I do!” Just not anywhere that might require us to take our clothes off.
He stares me down. “What about South Africa?”
Huh. Now that is an idea…
“Tell me more.”
He looks absolutely horrified by my interest. “You can’t be serious. You would choose a safari over Bora Bora?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not romantic.”
I frown. “This might be a honeymoon, but it isn’t meant to be romantic.”
“Clearly or else you would have chosen something else.”
The more Cal pushes me on it, the more I find the idea of going on a safari appealing. Nothing says hands off quite like bug spray, motion sickness, and watching animals devour each other. With a busy trip like that, the risk of Declan and I doing something stupid is slim to none.
I throw my napkin on the table and pat my distended belly. “That’s it. We’re going to South Africa.”
Cal groans, and I smile.
Case solved.
Planning a trip to Africa at the last minute is stressful. I need to juggle Declan’s busy schedule, doctors’ appointments so we can get our shots, and calling safari lodges to see who has availability at the last minute. I do all this while working from nine to nine every single day.
Declan is absolutely useless when it comes to planning anything, so I’m stuck doing everything on my own. Flights. Travel itineraries. Sleeping arrangements. Everything falls on my shoulders since Declan doesn’t care where we go, so long as I post a few photos and make it seem like we are having a good time. His words. Not mine.
Because of his attitude, I don’t feel bad booking the most expensive safari lodge on our list. I even book a trip to the salon to get my hair braided—all on his personal card. That’s what he gets for being so cold and unfeeling about the whole process. The least he could have done was ask me if I needed any help. Or even thanked me for putting all this together at the last minute, all so he could prove to everyone how we are some happy couple.
It’s the smallest things that make people feel appreciated. Not that Declan cares.
I sigh as I stare out the car window.
“What’s wrong?” Declan doesn’t bother looking up from his phone.
“Nothing. Just thinking about how I need to finish packing for both of us tonight.” The lie easily rolls off my tongue. It’s not like Declan cares about my feelings on the matter.
Declan remains silent.
“Is there anything in particular that you want me to pack for you?” I ask.
“No.” He frowns as he types against the screen.
Is this how my life is going to be for the next three years? Speaking to someone who is permanently attached to their cellphone?
The emptiness in my chest intensifies as the minutes go on. Declan remains oblivious, and I only sink further into my funk.
What did you expect? To get married and for him to instantly have a change of heart? The world doesn’t work like that.
At the very least, I thought Declan would give me a bit of his time, given the fact that I’m his wife now.
Don’t go wishing for things that will never happen.
I sigh again. This time, Declan doesn’t bother commenting on it. How can he when he is too busy answering the phone and yelling at someone on the other end?
Story of my life.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I unlock it to find Cal’s latest text message.
Cal: Did you ever get around to thanking my father for your impromptu honeymoon yet?
Me: I’ll be sure to send him a thank you basket when I get back.
Cal: Should I tell him to look out for a faint ticking noise?
Me: Don’t ruin the surprise! That’s the best part.
Cal responds with a row of laughing emojis.
Declan drops into the captain’s chair across from me. The flight attendant is quick to ask him if he needs anything, but he simply ignores her by tapping on his tablet screen.
“Sir, I’m here to service you in any way you need. Please don’t hesitate to ask for anything during the long flight.” She bats her lashes at Declan.
Service him? Gross.
Declan remains oblivious to her obvious innuendo. He doesn’t bother to look up at her despite the way she stands beside his chair, drooling all over the carpet.
I clear my throat. “Excuse me?”
She doesn’t even bother turning in my direction. “The captain said the trip should be a smooth one. I’m curious what made you pick South Africa?”
“I’ve always wanted to go on a safari.” As of three days ago, at least.
She dares to shoot me a scathing look over her shoulder. Is she really going to ignore me while flirting with him? He’s wearing a wedding ring for crying out loud.
“My husband and I will take two glasses of champagne, please.” I lift my left hand in the air to get her attention, and the diamond reflects a rainbow of colors across the ceiling.
She peers over at me with a raised brow. “Excuse me?”
Excuse you. I grind my teeth together. “Actually, you might as well bring out the whole bottle. We’re in a celebrating mood.”
“You’re married?” Her eyes swing back and forth between us before landing on Declan’s ring. The way her smile falls elicits my own.
“Get my wife whatever she wants.” Declan doesn’t look up from his tablet.
My stomach flutters in a way that has nothing to do with flying jitters.
“Of course. Right away, sir!” She rushes to the back of the private jet.
“Right away, sir!” I echo her enthusiasm with a roll of my eyes.
The corners of Declan’s mouth lift as he feigns interest in whatever is on his screen.
I glare. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I do find your possessiveness entertaining.”
“I am not possessive.”
“Hmm,” he responds. His fingers go tap tap tap on the screen.
I shift in my seat, and the tips of my braids brush against the small of my back. “Okay, whatever. Even if I was, it’s warranted. She shouldn’t have flirted with you while you’re wearing a wedding ring.”
“I see.” He drags his index finger across the glass before tapping on the tablet screen.
“What aren’t you saying?”
“I’m curious why you feel the need to flaunt your marital status whenever you’re insecure.”
My mouth drops open. “I am not insecure!”
“I’m aware of your trust issues.”