I nearly choked on my drink. I loved her.
I had never felt this way before. It complicated everything.
I walked over to Birdie and stood behind her. “Are you ready to go home?” I whispered into her ear.
She looked back at me over her shoulder with her meltingly liquid eyes and nodded. We said our goodbyes and got into the car. The ride home was silent and awkward. We were just business, officially, but everything had moved into a new stage, one that wasn’t just business. I knew I wanted more, but I didn’t know what she wanted.
The car pulled up outside of our building to a crowd of cameras and flashbulbs. We sat and looked at the chaos.
“This is preposterous,” she said. If anything, she was even more pale than usual.
“They must have leaked the pictures of our wedding to the press. The paparazzi has set their teeth into the story.” They were yelling my name. And hers. “Are you sure you can handle this? It’s a lot.”
The look she gave me was deadly. “I knew what I was signing up for. I can handle it.”
“Okay,” I said, although I wasn’t sure she could. “So, here goes the act, right?”
“Right.” I held my hand out to her palm up. “Hold my hand and keep your head up. We’ll walk through this storm together.”
She nodded, and I watched calmness slide over her features like a mask. She was very good at it. She said she wasn’t an actress, but she sure could control the way she was seen. When the driver opened the door, we were ready. Hands clasped, we walked into the crowd of paparazzi together. She didn’t duck her head or act embarrassed or shy. No, she smiled, her spine straight, and tucked herself under my arm.
I smiled down on her as if she were the best thing I’d ever seen, and she looked up at me as if I were the sun. She was acting, I knew, and a brilliant actress she was.
I, however, was not.
Chapter Seven: Birdie
Stepping in front of the paparazzi was like stepping in front of a judge and jury. I knew I had to present a facade of confidence and cool.
If I had planned ahead, I would have worn something chicer, but we’d been going to a casual outing, so I’d only dressed in white jeans and a navy top. It was acceptable, though, and it matched Will’s own casual outfit of cargo pants and a t-shirt. He wasn’t running for office yet, and we were both still young. It would be good for his image, I was sure, to see us casual and in love.
I hadn’t forgotten about that part. I clung to his arm as if I couldn’t even bear to be separated an inch from him. In truth, I couldn’t. This was giving me an excuse to stay close to him. I liked it. I liked it a lot.
Will leaned down and brushed my hair back, whispering into my ear. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I whispered back, and he kissed my temple.
The flashes went crazy, nearly blinding me. I smiled for the cameras, though I could barely see. When my vision cleared, the swirling activity nearly had me dizzy, although I maintained the happy, in-love mask I needed.
Flash. Smile. Flash. “Bernadette! Bernadette! Over here!” Smile. Flash, flash.
In all that chaos, one spot of stillness stood out. A man, staring, his face filled with fury and loathing. Eddie Lawson.
The blood drained from my face, and I was frozen to my spot.
As I was pressed against him with his arm around me, Will noticed immediately. He raised his arm to wave at the photographers. “We’ll have to cut this short, folks. I’m afraid my wife has had a long day.”
He smiled and led me into the building while the reporters called our names for one more look, one more picture. I felt Eddie’s eyes on me the whole time as we walked into the lobby and into the elevator, all the way until the elevator doors shut.
“You did so well, Birdie. You are the only woman who could have been my wife. You are perfect.” He pulled me into a hug and kissed my temple again.
I swallowed and nodded. “Thank you.” I found myself nodding, but I felt fear and shock still. It wasn’t over. Eddie would not let me go. I’d married, and he was still after me. “I am tired. You were right. It has been a very long day.”
“It’s been a long week. You should go to bed.”
Suddenly, I thought about going to bed alone in that lovely room in shades of silver and gray, alone on the other side of the apartment from Will, with Eddie outside somewhere, watching me. Trying to get me back.
I grabbed Will’s wrist. “Can I sleep with you? I mean, can I sleep in your bed?”
His eyebrows rose in surprise for a moment. “Of course. I’d love it. I’m kind of tired, too. Do you want to sleep now?”
“Please.”
“You don’t seem okay.”
I meant to put the perfect mask on and show him how strong I was, but I couldn’t do it. I tried to tell him that I was fine and that I had it all under control, but no words would come.
“You’re not okay.” He pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. “Will you tell me what it is?”
I wanted to, but I couldn’t. There was too much to say, and we were still just getting to know each other, whether we were married or not. I didn’t even know how to start. How did I tell him that I wasn’t the perfect woman like he said I was, that I was a deeply flawed woman who was very good at putting on a facade? How did I tell him that my ex-fiance had trained me to be that perfect woman because he told me I was a failure, a worthless piece of trash, a striver who needed him to succeed.
My mind told me Eddie was wrong, but then why had I stayed with him for so long? Why had I almost married him? Why had I thought I wanted to? And what kind of decisions could I be trusted to make about my life?
He must have read my tortured thoughts because he didn’t ask me to answer him, thank goodness. Instead, he took me by the hand and led me to his bedroom. He stripped off my clothes and then, to my shock, pulled a soft t-shirt over my head and let the hem fall around my hips.
“Now, no stealing that. It’s my favorite t-shirt. I’ve had it since I was twenty.
“I love it,” I said. In those words, I heard the echo of other words that I wanted to say to him but wasn’t ready for. “But why am I wearing it now? Didn’t you want to go to bed?”
“Oh, I do. I’m exhausted. It has been a very busy couple of days. I should have taken today off like you did. It’s time to sleep.”
“You want to sleep with me. Just sleep?”
He nodded slowly, a slight smile on his lips. He took off his jeans and then his t-shirt and left his boxers on. Then, he turned off the light and came back to me, taking my hand and leading me over to the bed.
“Left or right?” I asked him.
“It doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re in the bed with me.”
My heart flipped over. He was romantic. When did this marriage become romantic? I shook my head and crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up over me, then slid under them with me. He settled next to me and tucked me into his chest.
His skin was so velvety and warm. He smelled so lovely, like comfort and protection—and home.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
“This is wonderful,” he said.
It was.