Page 27 of Making the Save

She laughed like I’d made a joke, only I didn’t get the punchline.

“I’m such an asshole,” she chuckled. “I forget that there are people out there who don’t give a shit about my life, who don’t know every detail of it. No siblings. It was just me and my mom growing up. But things got complicated when the money startedcoming in. I was seventeen when I had to go to court to apply for emancipation.”

“Fuck. Seriously?”

“Grow Up Fast.All true, sad to say.”

I knew the song. The planet knew the song. Had I ever paid attention to all the lyrics? Did I think any of it was real?

The lines of the song ran through my mind.

You raised me, hated me, loved me, tried to sell me but you were always leaving me.

“What did you mean when you said she tried to sell you?”

She shook her head. “Tricia won’t ask any questions about my mom. That’s old news.”

“I’m asking,” I said.

“I hate talking about it. You’ve heard the songs, you get the gist. It’s all good now. No pity party for me. Look at where we are. I won life. Right?”

She sounded like some of the old timers my rookie year. Guys who wouldn’t complain because, “who wants to hear a millionaire athlete complain about his back pain.” Like the bad didn’t count because there’d been so much good.

Seemed to me if your back hurt or if your mom was a monster to you growing up – you could complain a little.

I thought of Nick sitting across from me and Liam in that dive bar, telling us how great it was that it all worked out for him. Like the bad shit never happened because everything was cool now, but I didn’t buy it from him and I didn’t buy it from her.

You didn’t forget your past. It was a part of you. The good and the bad.

However, I appreciated her not wanting to talk about it. I didn’t want to talk about my secret brother. We were allowed some privacy, even in a fake marriage.

“Wow, all that pasta made me sleepy.”

She picked up our plates to take them to the sink. I got up and helped rinse them and load them in the dishwasher. Then I took over the dishwashing since she’d cooked. She hoisted herself up on the counter and watched me scrub the pans.

“Or maybe it was our wild night out last night,” she said. “I have to say, it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like that. I’m always scared I’ll get recognized and there will be a scene. But no one paid me any attention!”

She said it like it was the best thing. Except she clearly didn’t remember.

I had stiff armed a bunch of people as we’d entered the club. I’d also paid the bouncer to basically act as a bodyguard to keep the crowds at a distance. Anyone who got too close got the patented Locke Brother death glare.

It had worked and that corner of the dance floor had felt very private.

“I’m glad you had fun,” I said, regretful now that I hadn’t had a drink or two fewer. Maybe if I’d had a clearer head I might have just taken her back to her hotel room. Then we both could have woken up with fond memories of the night before instead of all of this chaos. “I’m sorry it couldn’t have just been that.”

She shrugged. “Hey, I was right there with you. Whose idea was it anyway? To even go to that chapel?”

Another thing she didn’t remember. At the club before the kiss, she’d thrown her hands up in the air and cried,“Marry me!”

That’s what I thought she’d said anyway. Her expression was so sincere in that moment, so happy. I’d felt exactly the same. Loose and free and happy.

Why would we want that to end? At the time it made so much sense, I’d said yes.

Then the kiss. Then it was an Uber on our way to the Chapel of Love.

“Mine,” I answered, feeling some need to protect that memory. Yes, it was her idea, but I’d executed it. “It was my idea.”

“Oh. Well, okay,” she said softly, then looked down at her hands like she wasn’t sure what to do with them. An uncertain little pixie fairy. “I’m going to head for bed. Towels are in the linen closet next to the bathroom if you want to take a shower. The hot water takes a minute.”