Moments when you don’t know whether you’re on your head or your ass. When life seems overwhelming, and you wish there were ten of you or more than twenty-four hours in one day. Then, you start to think about all the times when you lie on the couch bored out of your mind watching some soap opera in Spanish that you have no hope of understanding but continue to watch because the evil-looking brother is somewhat cute.
Life—as a bored soap opera-watching addict—has officially taken a turn the day I got that email.
I was sitting in traffic on the I-5 listening to Flashdance while getting my groove on amongst other commuters stuck in the same jam. With my body swaying left to right and my hands waving in motion, I belted out the song until it was interrupted by the chime of an incoming email. With traffic at a complete standstill, I tapped into my inbox with one eye on the road to find an email from The Montague—a posh and in-demand venue with a five-year waitlist.
My heart skipped a million beats, nervous energy flooding my veins as I quickly read the email. They have an opening six weeks from today. If we want it, all we have to do is respond and put down a deposit. The brake lights in front of me flash red, and somewhere amongst my scattered thoughts, I manage to stop just in time narrowly avoiding rear-ending the car in front.
Focus, Zoey. The last thing you need is an accident in your new car.
The Montague i
sn’t your average wedding venue. Celebrities get married there. It has everything you can think of, and to top it off, the view of the Pacific Ocean from the ballroom is breathtaking.
I think about the possibility of pulling off a wedding in such a short amount of time and also breaking the news to Drew. Although the venue’s smaller than the one I was going to book, it costs double the amount.
But you only get married once, right?
Drew and I have barely seen each other due to his grueling schedule. It doesn’t bother me too much as my plate’s extremely full, and let’s face it, Drew is extremely needy whenever we are alone. When I can manage to grab his attention for a few minutes without being stripped naked, I use the opportunity to bring up the wedding.
I can see it’s starting to irritate him, combined with exhaustion from his shifts. Taking a leap of faith, I respond to the email, then drive off the exit ramp toward the hospital to tell him the good news and pray he will be on board.
Visiting the hospital is something I try to avoid. The smell of sick people everywhere freaks me out. When I wander the halls, my mind thinks about dead bodies just lying around. Thankfully, Drew’s in the reception area hanging out by the coffee cart. I spot him immediately.
With a young girl.
Girl.
Emphasis.
Young.
I didn’t anticipate the icky jealousy I feel when I see him with her—Raine. Who names their kid that? Some old hipsters living out of a van smoking weed and chasing rainbows. That’s who. And her tits, they are so perky practically poking my eye out like Madonna during her erotica phase.
I really wish she was ugly. That would make the situation easier, but she isn’t. Perhaps that’s why I just stand on the sideline feeling old. I try to brush off the feeling until she says that Drew hadn’t mentioned he has a fiancée. I don’t know what irritates me more—her tits or the fact he hasn’t bothered to mention me.
Even in her presence, I blurt out the good news, surprised that Drew said yes. I’m counting my lucky stars we didn’t even have to go into battle over it.
I left the hospital with more drive to plan this wedding. With a band on his finger, no one will ever question his relationship status even if he doesn’t say a word about me. The possessive fiancée’s coming out of me.
Like many things, I can’t shake this one off. Having a discussion with him would have been the adult thing to do, but instead, I buried my unnatural thoughts and moved on to planning the honeymoon. Drew has always wanted to go to Maui, but I’m not keen on the beach. I’m hoping to sway him to visit Australia. Costly, I know, but a lifetime experience and a fantastic honeymoon location. Beaches if he wants it and cute koalas for me to cuddle.
I woke up early and waited for him to come home. With the wedding six weeks away, I need to haul ass and lose weight. The wedding dress fitting is this weekend, and God forbid the dress I want doesn’t fit. Despite it being just before five in the morning, I turn on my music and shuffle with my workout mix. Nothing like Paula Abdul to get your blood pumping in the wee hours of the morning.
Somewhere in the middle of my sit-ups and rapping to Opposites Attract, the door opens and Drew walks in. He looks tired with dark circles under his eyes while wearing his glasses. He wears them when his contacts irritate him. Placing his bag on the floor, he walks toward me with a weak smile.
“Do you know what time it is?” he asks, turning the music down slightly.
“Workout time,” I reply out of breath, my stomach on the verge of combusting.
He drops down to the floor placing his hands on my knees to spread my legs wide open. Leaning forward, he moves his mouth onto mine and kisses my lips sucking gently before retracting back.
“How long do I have before you crash?”
“That depends.” He leans back in kissing the side of my neck and distracting my train of thought. Keeping his tone low and seductive, he murmurs, “What do you want me for?”
“To pick your brain.” I close my eyes, enjoying his lips against my skin. “Honeymoon stuff.”
“Does it involve me fucking you?”