Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1) (37 page)

Jordan

Looking around the table, I find myself feeling incredibly blessed.

My father doesn’t have too much time left. We know this.
A
ll he has ever wanted for me was to be happy. I’m glad I’m able to give him a sense of calm before he goes.

I sit here quietly at the table while he and my mother talk animatedly with Quinn. We’ve been coming over every Sunday for dinner with them. Quinn’s idea actually.

Watching as Quinn laughs at whatever corny joke my dad just told, her eyes fill with warmth for him. And he looks back at her with a love of his own radiating. My parents have really grown to love her.

I think I may love her too.

When that happened, I’m not exactly sure, but I think it was sometime after we agreed to get married. She might not have done this without her father being a total jerk, but once she did, something changed.

I could’ve looked anywhere to find a fake wife when she told me all about her father and his ridiculous plan. But I didn’t want to. The minute she opened her mouth and said she wasn’t fucking me, I was hooked. Quinn is a remarkable woman. She’s the total package. Beautiful, smart, driven and sexy as hell. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met before. She’s a real woman in a land of fakes. I was determined to find a way to win her over. Getting her to even speak to me civilly took longer than I thought but her father’s threats forced her to go all in with the whole marriage thing.

Her father is an asshole and I want to break his fucking jaw for the shit he’s doing to Quinn. But Quinn’s plan of pushing him out of the company is better. We can hit him where it hurts the most. If that’s enough satisfaction for Quinn, then it’s enough for me.

In just a week, this woman will become my wife. This marriage isn’t real, but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I give her everything I can, including myself. She’s given my father a sense of closure before he leaves this Earth and I can never repay her for that, but I’m going to damn well try. She deserves it. I’m damn lucky her asshole dad is a greedy douche.

I’m going to make it up to her. I have every intention of wooing my soon-to-be wife.

Quinn

Sitting down on my bed, I take a look around my bedroom one last time, at least for the next few years until the merger goes through. This time tomorrow I’ll be married and heading out on my honeymoon. This is the last night I’ll be spending here for a while. In the place which holds so many fond memories. The place I’ve called home since college. The place where I’ve grown up.

At first, I had tried to get Jordan to agree to move in here with me after tomorrow, but I knew I was being impractical. He has an incredible apartment in the Tribeca. He was entirely justified when saying it makes no sense for the two of us to commute to the city when he has a place right there.

But deep down, I don’t want to leave my home. I take a look at the boxes stacked in the corner of my room. Boxes that weren’t there a few days ago. I take a lingering look around my bedroom, trying to commit it to memory. While I’m not getting rid of this place, I have no idea when I’m coming back. There’s no way of knowing how quickly the merger will go or if Jordan’s dad will live longer than we expect. I’m sure by the time I come back here, I’ll be a different person.

My wedding dress, which is hanging on the back of my door, catches my eye. It’s the last thing I’ll be wearing as a single woman. I rise from the bed and walk over to the dress, running my fingers across the beading on the bodice. Then the skirt. Then the train. I keep waiting for the excitement about it to creep in. The dress is gorgeous. A sweetheart neckline. Exquisite beading in an intricate pattern that extends down to my hips. An A-line satin skirt that leads into a beautiful four-foot train. It’s every little girl’s dream dress.

Sliding it from the hanger, I carry it over to the bed and lay it down. I drop my robe and take a deep breath before picking it back up. Unbuttoning the buttons that trail down the back, I step into the dress, fastening as many of the buttons as I can on my own.

Turning to look in the mirror, I hold my breath and hope for that moment when this feels right. But it doesn’t. I don’t even know why I thought it would. There’s nothing real here with Jordan. I’ve known that all along. This has never been anything other than forced.

Fear and anxiety are all that I feel. I don’t know if I even recognize the woman gazing back in the reflection. She has no sparkle in her eyes. No small smile of excitement on her face.

I remember how Ashley looked the day before she got married. There was a glow about her so bright if you looked directly at her, you might’ve been blinded. There was a smile permanently embedded on her lips. There was joy evident in her voice.

None of those things apply to me. I don’t even think I can find my voice at this moment.

I’m making a mistake. Deep down in my bones, I know it, but there’s nothing I can do now. My father’s threats creep into my mind and I try to push them back down. It doesn’t work. I’ve been telling myself that this wedding is a means to an end. But the end of what? All this wedding is doing is keeping my father from ruining my entire life. I don’t want to get married but I want to go to prison even less.

But everything about this feels wrong.

I’ve been fighting my whole adult life against marriages like this. Transactional marriages that treat relationships like a commodity. Marriages based on what other people want and expect. Based on ulterior motives beyond love. Just because I didn’t want to get married doesn’t mean I‘ve never pictured it in my head. Just like every other little girl, I had a fantasy of what this day would be like. Putting on a dress just as beautiful as this one. I imagined a husband waiting for me at the end of the aisle with a look in his eyes making me feel as though I’m the most important person in the world. I pictured him shedding a few small tears as I made my way down the aisle toward him. Having to remind myself to slow down and not run toward him.

None of those things will happen tomorrow. Yes, I’ll be wearing the dress, and I’ll be heading toward a man who cares about me. But tomorrow has nothing to do with me at all. The day has been planned around Jordan making his father’s last days on Earth peaceful and keeping my ass out of lock up. Call me dumb, but a wedding should be about the love between the two people getting married. Not the forces pushing them into it.

I feel a small splash on my hand, then another and another. I look down to see the tears pooling there. I glance back to the strange woman in the mirror and see the streams of tears running down her face. I see a woman who is not happy at all. A woman who knows no matter how unhappy she is, she can’t back down from the promise.

Claustrophobia sets in, and I have to fight back the desire to rip the dress from my body. It takes me a few minutes before I’m able to get the buttons undone without destroying it. Jumping out of the dress the moment it pools around my feet, I grab my robe and climb into my bed letting the sobs rip from my chest.

I lie there staring at the pictures still hanging on the wall. Photos of a girl I used to be. A girl who has been missing. A girl who after tomorrow will probably be lost forever. My sobs turn to wails and my last thought as I fade into a very fitful sleep is,
what have I done?

Alex

The blaring sound of my cell phone startles me from the restless sleep I’m in. Instinctively, I sit up and stare at the clock, thinking I must’ve overslept for work. The sound coming from my phone is not my alarm. But the clock reads nine am. When I get my bearings, I realize it's Saturday, and I’m not due to work for a few more hours.

Before I can even get my feet over the side of the bed, the ringing ensues again. I scoop my phone from the nightstand and see Ashley’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hello?” I groan into the phone, trying to shake the gravel from my voice. Having all those beers last night wasn’t the best idea. But how else was I to drown my sorrows? The woman I love is marrying someone else today. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since I stormed out of her apartment after I laid it all out there, and she did nothing. It’s not an easy pill to swallow. If this was the off-season, I would’ve drunk myself into a coma last night, so I didn’t have to deal with today at all.

“You haven’t by chance spoken to Quinn last night or this morning, have you?” she asks, her voice filled with emotion I can’t pinpoint until my brain starts to fully function.

“No, why?” I reply trying to shake the slight hangover I have out of my head so I can think clearly.

“She was supposed to meet me at the house half an hour ago so we could head to the hotel together, but she’s not here and she’s not answering her phone. I’m worried about her.” I can hear the concern in her voice, and it’s all I need to shake me out of this haze.

“I haven’t heard from her since I went to her house two weeks ago. How would I know where she is? Have you tried Jordan?” I ask.

“No. I don’t want to worry him just yet. That’s the last thing this wedding needs,” she sighs.

“Where did she spend the night last night? Her place?”

“Yes,” Ashley confirms. “She said she wanted to be alone in her own bedroom for the last time.”

That doesn’t sound like something a bride-to-be should be saying the night before her wedding. I can see a guy saying that, but aren’t women supposed to be happy and looking toward the future the night before the big day? Especially one who keeps telling everyone to trust her and she knows what she’s doing.

“Do you think you can do me a favor and go over there and check on her? It will only take you ten minutes opposed to my forty-five.”

I think to myself a moment before answering. “I don’t know, Ash. I’m already dealing with the fact she’s marrying someone else. I don’t know if I can handle seeing her or being the one who pushes her in the car to do it.”

I’d love to help Ashley, I would, but this is a lot for me. I’ve been preparing myself for this day for the last few weeks. I’ve planned the day all out to keep myself busy. I’m heading to the stadium in a little bit to go over some injury updates for tomorrow’s game. I have some players’ charts to update and go over. Tiffany then decided we need to spend the night with take-out and beer while watching action flicks with no romantic notions about them whatsoever. The last thing I need is to actually see her hours before she marries this guy.

I’ve spent the last week wondering if there ever was anything real between Quinn and me. I haven’t been able to get the look on her face when I confronted her out of my head. She didn’t bat an eyelash when she waved her ring in my face claiming she isn’t afraid of commitment.

Maybe she isn’t. Maybe it was just me she was never interested in committing to. I’m starting to think that I took the thing between us wrong. It’s possible she’s right, and I’ve built the thing up so high in my mind that I was always destined to break when I fell. I let her go on thinking I was good with whatever she wanted. That was my angle. I was always too afraid to push her for more, that I never did. How was she supposed to know I wanted more?

Jordan must’ve pushed her for more, and I guess that’s what she needed. That’s where I went wrong. It let us become complacent.

What else was she supposed to think?

I think I’ve managed to fare pretty well thus far. Today’s going to be hard for me, but at least I got some kind of closure. I know why she left me. I’ll be able to pull myself up and out of this. Time will help. I still love her, regardless. I think a part of me always will, but I need to move on. Going to Quinn’s the day she’s supposed to marry someone else will be counterproductive to the acceptance I’ve been working on.

“I think she’s having second thoughts. I don’t know for sure, but this isn’t like Quinn. Something is wrong. I can feel it. She’ll be more open with you than she will with me,” she pleads into the phone. I can hear the worry in her voice, but I just don’t know if I can do it.

“If she’s having second thoughts, it should be you who speaks to her not me. I’m in love with the woman. If I go there, my instinct is going to be to talk her out of this, and then I’ll be the guy who pushed her to walk out on her fiancé the day of their wedding. I don’t want to be that guy, Ashley. I don’t want to be the one she resents when the dust settles. I don’t think I can handle it on top of every other bad thing she thinks about me.” I’m already the person who defends cheaters to her. I’m already the guy whose heart she wrecked. What happens if I go there, and she’s just running late? It would be like pouring salt into my wounds.