Pretend You're Mine Page 5

  I carefully took everything back off and hung the dress in my closet. Curious, I went back to the box looking for some kind of price tag. When I saw the number of zeros, I crumpled it up. I really didn’t want to know anymore.

  The wedding was two days away. Virgo and Michael had picked out their outfits with the enthusiasm of kids getting to play dress up. At least they were having fun. As each day passed, I got more and more nervous. Once I signed that paper there was no easy way of going back.

  ***

  The morning of the wedding I was woken up by Virgo who handed me an ice coffee as I sat up in bed. It was like she knew I barely slept the night before.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, the sleep still heavy in my voice.

  “We have to be at the courthouse by ten.” She moved a few stray curls away from my eyes, then got up and left me to get ready.

  I drank the whole coffee as quickly as possible. I then brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash. I put on my dress, slipped on the high heels Virgo gave me, fixed my hair and carefully positioned the clip, did a bit of makeup, and slipped on the veil. Then I grabbed the folder that held my birth certificate and social security card. We applied for the license earlier that week. I didn’t bother with a bouquet; I’d be holding the necessary info to get the license approved instead.

  When I stepped out of the room Virgo was there waiting in the hallway clapping. “Spin for me.”

  I obliged her. I did enjoy the way the skirt spun with me. It felt very princess-y.

  “You’re gorgeous,” she said. Her dress was a simple silk lime green piece she got from some designer she worked with.

  “Are you ready?” Michael asked. He was wearing a suit we had worked on together last year, matching Virgo with his neon green tie and hair.

  “As I’ll ever be.” I shrugged. I was trying to project a calm air, no matter how far it was from the truth. “Wait.” I rushed to my room and then back. “Here.” I handed Michael the ring. “Keep that safe for me.”

  “Course Lyds.”

  We headed down the stairs and out to our apartment’s parking garage. A few people turned their heads as I walked in full, followed by Virgo holding up the bottom of my dress to keep it from getting dirty. Taylor had offered to be the one to pick us up and take us to the courthouse, but Virgo insisted that break of tradition would ruin the plan. Honestly, Virgo was having more fun with this than I was. I was repeating to myself over and over again that this was all just a business deal. If I got swept up in all the emotions, I’d end up getting hurt. I was sure of it.

  We arrived at the courthouse fifteen minutes early. Exiting Michael’s Camry in my dress was harder than getting in. Luckily, both my co-bridesmaids held onto my hands and got me out safely. When we entered the courthouse, I saw several other couples milling around for their appointments or leaving, just married. I spotted the judge talking with Taylor, his back to us.

  “Taylor!” I yelled as we got closer. He turned around, and I could see the way his eyes went wide for a moment. I knew I was looking good. I then went to examine his suit. It was actually tailored appropriately, not too small like most everything he wore. It also looked familiar.

  I stopped moving towards him. “That’s my design.”

  “What sweetie?” Virgo asked.

  Michael nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

  I turned towards Virgo, “He’s wearing a suit I made. Well, it’s my design.” I would recognize my scalloped lapels anywhere. It was one of my more toned-down suits. It was classic black, and the buttons were a muted pink. He wore a tie that matched that pink, as well as my dress.

  He waved me over, like he was getting impatient. I unfroze, no matter how difficult it was, and made my way over to him.

  “Hello Lydia.” He smiled. Honest to god smiled. I was put off guard for a moment before I realized the ruse had already started. The smile was part of his act.

  “Taylor, I’m so excited.” I reached for his hands, subtly tapping his wrist before taking them in mine. I looked at him and also smiled wide. It was my wedding, the happiest day of my life.

  “If the happy couple and the witnesses would follow me?” The judge motioned for us to follow him into one of the rooms in the courthouse. I leaned over to Taylor and whispered. “Is your grandfather coming?”

  “No.” He replied. “He’s busy.” Just like my aunt. “He wants to meet up with us in a few days. Take us out somewhere to talk about our future.”

  I nodded. This wasn’t the big day then. That still didn’t help my nerves.

  I knew about courthouse marriages, but I never actually thought too hard about what they must be like. The judge took us into an actual courtroom. He looked through our identification and then we signed the contract. Michael and Virgo acted as witnesses.

  Before the judge signed, he looked at the both of us. “Would you like to say anything?”

  “Yeah.” I said without thinking about it. This time, Taylor took my hands. “Taylor. I love you. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.” I didn’t know what else to say. We didn’t have history; we didn’t have anything together.

  “Thank you for making me feel safe. I love you Lydia.” Taylor said with the most emotion I’d ever heard in his voice.

  “With the power given to me by the state of Illinois, I pronounce you husband and wife.” The judge scribbled his signature. It was anticlimactic. But I was married now. I was married to Taylor Hirano. “You may now kiss the bride,” the judge said.

  I leaned close and tapped his wrist twice. He leaned in at the touch and our lips met. It was deeper than last time. He wasn’t as hesitant. Part of me wanted to go even deeper, but we broke apart as quickly as we moved together.

  “Congratulations,” the judge said and left to find the next couple.

  “Woo!” Virgo said moving closer to us. “Should we go out drinking?”

  “It’s not even ten thirty,” I said dryly.

  “Yeah and? You just got married! Let’s go somewhere fancy, get some mimosas. I’ll be your photographer. We’ll have everyone who’s everyone talking about your surprise marriage.”

  “Taylor?” I looked at him.

  “Not for very long.” He replied. His voice and face were back to their neutral, unfeeling state. I wouldn't hear emotion again until we met with his grandfather, and then after that, probably never again.

  ***

  Getting mimosas wasn't a huge disaster like it could’ve been. Virgo took some really good photos. At least I got a nice breakfast out of the marriage ceremony. Virgo, Michael, and I went back to my apartment so we could pack everything I couldn’t live without. For the time being, Virgo was going to move into my room. Really, it’d be more of a storage for her clothes while she used Michael’s room for everything else. Taylor decided not to come, citing needing to do some more work.

  I had changed out of my wedding dress and put it back into the box it came in. You can’t really return designer dresses. “What am I going to do with this?” I held up the box to my friends helping me fold my clothes.

  “Keep it for the laughs?” Michael suggested.

  “If he wasn’t a billionaire, I could have gotten married in any of the nice dresses I own. It feels like it was wasted.”

  “It wasn’t wasted.” Virgo sounded almost offended. “You looked hot as hell. I took lots of photos of just you. Use it for your modeling portfolio. Or your dating profile after you’re free.”

  “I didn’t even think about that,” I said shoving the box in a tub with some of my other things I was taking over. “What am I going to tell the next guy I date? Or any of the guys I date?”

  “Tell them it was a mess.” Virgo shrugged. “The right guy won’t mind.”

  “You always know what to say.”

  “I have lots of experience.” She winked.

  Michael and I looked at each other. We didn’t want to know.

  I got a text from Taylor. “He’s sending
over movers.”

  “We’ve almost got everything,” Michael said. “I’m going to miss you Lyds.”

  “Mike. We still work together. And on Monday we’ll have the two million. We’re going to be so busy I might be sleeping at the office more than not.”

  “We’ve been roommates since junior year, it’s the end of an era.” He sighed.

  “Stop being dramatic.” I rolled my eyes, but something about those words rang true. This was the beginning of something, my life was going to be different from here on out.

  ***

  When the movers arrived, we got everything packed up. I got my hugs goodbye, even though I’d see them soon. I rode with the movers all the way from the city to Glencoe. I was going to have to get used to the thirty-minute commute on top of everything else.

  We arrived at his house, no, his mansion. It was an older style house, Victorian looking spires and circular windows. It looked like it was several stories and it had a few acres surrounding it covered with dense trees. If it wasn’t so brightly lit, and the trees weren’t bright green since it was in the middle of summer, I could’ve thought it looked like a vampire’s lair.

  I stepped inside and couldn’t help but spin around. I’d been in a few mansions for parties for some of our customers. But when a house this big is filled with people it’s hard to see how much empty space there could be. Each of my footsteps echoed. I understood what Taylor meant: we wouldn’t have to see each other much at all.

  In fact, I didn’t see him at all as the movers brought everything in. They seemed to know where my room was, so I followed them. It was a bedroom on the second floor, and it had a full bath attached and a walk-in closet. I unpacked once the movers left. I put on some music and got everything settled. As I hung up some of my clothes I stopped suddenly. I remembered I had gotten married that morning. Here I was folding some clothes alone in a mansion. I giggled a little, knowing I sounded mad. The final thing I put away was the wedding dress box. I shoved it into a corner of the walk-in where I couldn’t see it.

  Taylor didn’t show up the whole rest of the day. I decided to wander around and eventually found the kitchen. I also found a room that looked like an office. I found the wi-fi password on a sticky note. I guess that’s all I would need. I had been used to living in an apartment for so long. I didn’t even know what to use all this space for. I eventually wandered to what seemed like a gym. It had walls of glass and was brightly lit inside. There I finally found Taylor. He was doing stretches, his shirt and hair sweaty. How long had he been here?

  I knocked on the door before entering. He turned around and took his earbuds out.

  “Are you settled?” He asked.

  “Yes.”

  “O.K.” He looked at me and I stared back at him. “Do you need anything?”

  “I guess I don’t. I was just looking around.” I looked down at the floor. I guess we had no reason to talk. But I wanted to say one thing. “You wore my suit.”

  He tilted his head. “Yeah. I thought it would be convincing.”

  “Yeah.” I said monotone. “That was smart.” I left and hurried back to my room, something I didn’t want to call disappointment settling in my stomach. I had to get used to this. This new normal.

  Chapter 7: Taylor

  I stayed out of Lydia’s way as much as I could. I figured out when she usually left for work and started waking up earlier to miss her. She spent most of her days at the office. But when she was in my home, most of her time was spent in her room or the entertainment center she found two weeks into her stay. I spent more and more time at the gym. Sometimes I saw her pass. Sometimes I thought I saw her looking in, but whenever I turned to look, she wasn’t there or was passing by with her nose in her phone.

  My grandfather kept making excuses for why he couldn’t meet with us. A few times he agreed as long as he could invite my mother along. For that I found myself lying to my grandfather even more than I already was. I needed to find an opportunity to have him meet Lydia without my mom being allowed to come, or even have the chance to show up. Jiji knew our relationship was strained. He didn’t know why. It was just another thing I had to keep from him.

  I finally ran into Lydia on accident one Saturday afternoon. I was heading out to my therapy session for the week. She was sketching something on a pad on the kitchen counter. She looked up as I approached. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hello,” she said and then looked back.

  “Hello.” What else could I say? I waited to see if she wanted to say anything more. She didn’t. “Goodbye.” I muttered and left.

  ***

  “Don’t ask me how that makes me feel.” I rubbed a hand over my eyes.

  “I won’t. But I would consider asking yourself why you don’t want me asking that.” Mrs. Tupp was tricky, I couldn’t underestimate her.

  Saying “I don’t want to” was too childish. “I don’t like the way it feels, does that make you happy?”

  “Honest communication always puts me in a better mood.” She grinned. “So, you have been avoiding her for all three weeks you’ve been married. And she seems to be avoiding you too. Why does this disappoint you now, when before, you struggled having a housekeeper there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think it’s a sign you’re wanting to start connecting again. We’ve talked about the friend situation.”

  “Or the lack thereof.” I added for her.

  “I think you have enjoyed the time you’ve spent with Lydia. And now that you are more open to connection, you desire to spend more time with her.”

  “You don’t have to explain how friendship works.”

  “What I’m trying to say is that you should make an effort to connect with her again. You’ve given her signals that you don’t feel the way you do. Maybe invite her to share dinner with you again. Maybe invite her to go on a run with you. It doesn’t have to be every day, start small. Then be honest with her: that you want to be friends. Honestly, being friends with her might be healthier for the both of you since you’re going to be living together for a long time. I can’t imagine going six months without speaking to my husband.”

  “We’re not actually married.”

  “I know. It applies to roommates too. You both will go stir-crazy.”

  “I’ve been alone for a while,” I defended myself.

  “And do you enjoy the way that makes you feel?”

  ***

  I returned from therapy buzzing with energy. Therapy usually tired me out, but this time I was filled with nerves. I was surprised to find Lydia still sitting where she was when I left. I got a better look at what she was sketching. It looked like a suit coat, but the fancier kind with twin tails. Ask her if she wants something to eat, said a voice that sounded suspiciously familiar to my therapist. I clenched my fists as I walked past her and went straight to the gym. If this was a normal marriage, I would take Mrs. Tupp’s advice. But I didn’t want to complicate this deal any further. I remembered what Michael told me. I shouldn’t do anything that could end up hurting her. She didn’t deserve it.

  I changed into my workout clothes and started over by the free weights. I didn't count reps, I just kept going until I could feel the connections in my muscles burn. When I couldn’t lift any more, I moved to the treadmill. I put in my ear buds and blasted some pop music. People wouldn’t assume it by looking at me, but I liked the top 40 stuff. Right now, I didn’t care what played, I just wanted it loud enough so I couldn’t hear. I ran and ran, probably miles. I wasn’t paying attention. I just kept staring ahead, my eyes unfocused.

  I knew I was getting too tired. My vision was doubling, and my pace was slowing. I wasn’t sure where I was when I felt one tap to my wrist. I looked over at the source. Lydia with her sketch pad held tightly against her chest. Something was wrong with her. She looked upset? I didn’t do anything to her though?

  “Taylor?”

  “Yes?” My voice slurred on the “s”.

  She t
apped my wrist again and lifted her hand to my forehead. “You are overheating.”

  I was still so confused, why was she here?

  “I happened to walk by, and it looked like you were about to pass out.”

  Did I say that last thought out loud? I was still out of it, but even I could tell that was a bad sign if I couldn’t remember what I was thinking and what I was saying.

  “Why did you work out when you were so sick?” She asked.

  I was sick? But I felt fine earlier? I came to more awareness of my body, a headache making itself known and my throat feeling rough. I didn’t even notice with how nervous therapy had made me feel.

  “Come on.” She tapped my wrist before taking my arm. “I’m going to take you to your room. And I’m going to get you some water and whatever medicine I can find.”

  That sounded good. “Yeah,” was all I could say to that.

  She helped me out into the hallway and to the main staircase.

  “Is it bad that I don’t know where your bedroom is? No, that’s not bad. Just unhelpful right now.” Since I wasn’t holding up my side of the conversation, she seemed to be taking my place. I tried to smile at that but ended wincing instead. My whole body ached.

  “God, you really are sick,” she muttered under her breath.

  She got me up to the second floor. “Where is his room?” She wasn’t even addressing the question to me; it was more like she was asking the house. “Well. He needs to lie down now.” She helped me across the hall and into an unfamiliar room. One of the guest rooms probably. Once I was in bed I blinked and was out immediately.

  I woke up to gentle tapping on my arm, I twisted away from the contact, falling out of the bed. “Who is it?” I asked, fearful of the answer.

  “It’s me. Lydia. I’m so sorry.” She moved around the bed and once again helped me back up. “I left you here a few moments ago, I didn’t realize you fell so deeply asleep. I just brought you a glass of water and an ibuprofen.”