Page 63 of My Dead Wife's Ex Will Do
So why does it feel like a door closing?
Thirty
Victor
As much as I want to tumble Jason into bed and peel him out of the suit he just put on, we have a wedding to attend. Not just attend. I have a wedding to officiate. Jason is supposed to walk Kelsey down the aisle.
I kiss him until my lips tingle, then reluctantly grasp his upper arms and step back. “Kelsey will be inconsolable if we don’t show up for her big day.”
Jason honest-to-god pouts and it’s all I can do not to drag him back into my arms. I adjust his pocket square once more—which is what got us into this position in the first place—and force myself to let him go.
I grab my stole, folded up into a small, neat package, and the brown leather folder with my speech and the wedding script, then lead the way from our casita. To my surprise, when Jason catches up, he reaches out and clasps my hand. We walk hand-in-hand along the resort’s winding paths and he doesn’t let go until we approach the girls’ casita.
There’s no one along the way who sees us, but even this small step—holding hands with another man in public—is a big thing for Jason.
It doesn’t mean he’ll want to continue anything more than co-parenting with me after this week, though.
Adrienne answers my knock at the cabin door. “Oh, thank God,” she says. Her dark curly hair is smoothed back from her face and twisted into a more elaborate bun than her usual workaday one. A couple of large purple orchids are tucked into one side of the bun. These are guaria morada, Costa Rica’s national flower, which are supposed to bring good luck and the promise of fulfilled dreams, a perfect choice for a wedding. She’s wearing a peacock blue suit, the same color as mine and Jason’s, and minimal makeup except for a bold red lip color.
She looks beautiful. There’s just a hint of frustrated impatience in the tightness of her jaw.
“What’s wrong?” Jason immediately asks.
“I have no fucking idea. She keeps saying that she needs something borrowed and something blue and she won’t explain why it’s so important, just that she’s annoyed with herself that she didn’t think about it before.” Adrienne lifts her head and gazes off in the direction of the overlook where the wedding will take place. “She’s cried to the point of ruining her makeup three times now.”
Jason reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and withdraws a black velvet box. “I’ve got this.”
Adrienne blows a big sigh out. “Great.” She steps out of the cabin and grabs my arm. “Buy me a drink at the bar, Victor. I’m not saying I plan to get hammered before I get married, but I’m not not saying that, either.”
I look at Adrienne, then at Jason, torn between letting Jason manage Kelsey and rushing in to fix whatever’s going on. Jason gives me a quiet, knowing look. “She’ll be fine, Victor.” He checks his watch. “Give us half an hour and I’ll text you when we’re ready to start.”
Adrienne tugs at my arm. “Come on, Victor. What we need is liquid courage and lots of it.”
I escort Adrienne to the restaurant’s bar, and when we’re settled at the end opposite the pool, I wait until she’s ordered us double whiskies with a splash of ginger ale to ask, “Do we really need liquid courage to do this today?”
It’s ten in the morning and while we’re on vacation, it’s also kind of an important day. All Adrienne has to do is show up and repeat after me, but the critical portion of the marriage ceremony is where the parties declare their intent to join their lives together. If Adrienne is having second thoughts…
“No,” she says. She swirls the amber liquid in her glass. “I love her, even when she’s catastrophizing like this. I think she’s just nervous. I’m sure Jason will be able to calm her down.” She takes a thoughtful sip. “I’m…okay, I guess I’m nervous, too. And being around Kelsey freaking out was making me even more nervous, so thanks for indulging my excuse to get out of the cabin for a bit.”
“Of course,” I tell her. I open my leather folder and scan the ceremony script. The words on the page blur as I try to read them in preparation.
My mind is not on the words in the folder.
My mind is on the way Jason looked at me in the shower an hour ago, water streaming down his face, eyes dark and vulnerable in a way that made my chest feel too small. The way Jason touched me after.
Not urgent or hungry, but lingering.
Tender.
Like he was trying to memorize the shape of my body.
“What about you?” Adrienne asks.
I shift in my chair, trying to shake off the memory. “Me? What about me?”
She gestures at the folder with the glass in her hand. “Are you nervous?”
Not about the ceremony.
