Tara
Goldie pours me a cup of tea and smiles across the small table in her room. “It was lovely of you to join me for lunch.”
“I’m happy you weren’t busy. Sometimes Kellen tries to keep you all to himself.”
She laughs lightly and pats my hand. Her eyes seem clearer than they’ve been in a while and Kellen says she’s been more herself since they finished her treatments. There are still gaps in her memory, and she can be erratic on bad days, but her old self is back more often than not.
“Let me ask you something, dear. Indulge an old woman, if you wouldn’t mind. Did you ever imagine you’d end up married to my son?”
“No, not at all,” I say, laughing and shaking my head. A staff member comes into the room and clears the plates away as I sip my tea.
“I always wondered, you know. I remember him looking at you back when you were both young and he always had this excitement in his eye.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, Goldie.”
“Oh, no, sweetie, it’s true.” She sighs and leans back. “But he tells me your marriage is one of convenience. That you two have a business deal.”
I glance away and embarrassment swells up inside of me. I don’t know why I feel like this—Goldie was a mob wife for years. She understands their world better than I ever will, and yet I feel uncomfortable talking about just how fake my marriage actually is.
“I wish I had something better to say, but it’s true. The marriage is just for show, basically. He wanted someone to give me a little credibility and he thought he could get me to do it. Plus, he wanted me to tell him everything I knew about the people living in this house.”
“And did it work?” She tilts her head, studying me. She seems clearer than she’s ever been, more like the woman I remember from back in the day. She was terrifying back then, intense and sharp as anything, and it makes me happy to see her coming back.
“I think so. It didn’t hurt, anyway.”
“How do you feel now that it seems as though things are winding down? Do you plan on divorcing?”
I open my mouth to answer and only shake my head. Truth is, I don’t know and haven’t thought much about ending our marriage. I’ve imagined living in this house and taking care of the gardens but I never really gave much thought to what I’d do about my relationship beyond that.
“Listen to me and try to hear.” She’s talking quietly now and leans forward in her chair, elbows on the table, cup of tea against her lips. “Perhaps you need someone to tell you this, but marriages have been formed for worse reasons than business deals.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She waves a hand in the air. “People get married for all sorts of reasons. Love, lust, whatever. Business deals aren’t exactly common, but why can’t it be the foundation of a real romance? A real partnership? You two are good together. You seem to get along very well, and I suspect you have similar goals. That sounds like a very good spouse to me.”
“I don’t know,” I say quietly, looking at my tea and avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know what Kellen wants.”
“I can tell you from experience that he doesn’t know either. Sometimes I wish I had more to go on than simple attraction with Orin. We got together when we were young and in love and everything as so exciting at first, but then he turned into the man he’d always been, and I began to notice all the ugly things. His violence, his temper, his controlling tendencies. The lust and excitement faded, but those core pieces of Orin never went away, they only got worse. What you have with Kellen is a better foundation than anything I had with my husband, and I hope you believe me.”
“I do, I believe you, I just—” I suck in a breath and let it out. “I don’t know where to go from here.”
“You’ll figure it out, dear. For what it’s worth, I think you make a lovely couple with my son.”
“Thank you.” I’m blushing stupidly, and Goldie laughs at me.
We finish lunch on a lighter tone. The nurse comes in for her afternoon medication and her slow walk around the hallways and I leave them to it. I head out into the house, thinking about what she said back there.
Can this really be a good foundation for a marriage?
A real marriage, not some sham thing with a contract backing it up. Not some business deal between two strangers. An actual, long-term marriage.
Could we have a life together?
The idea seems strange, but it doesn’t scare me. I can almost picture it: children running around these hallways, Kellen working with his men, the full days, the busy nights, the joy. I could see myself happy with him, if I tried, and I haven’t been able to picture myself happy in a very long time.
Would he want that too?
As I head toward the stairs, I spot him coming up toward me. His face changes when our eyes meet: a smile blossoms across his lips. He lights up, glowing. I smile back, unable to help it, and he brushes his fingers across my hip when we’re close.