Page 33 of Making the Save
6
This marriage looks like Sydney is just playing pretend with a guy who only plays for keeps. Is this going to end in more heartache for Sydney Malloy?
-Celebrity Truth
Sydney
Iblinked. Then blinked again. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
He sighed and sat down next to me on the bed. Instinctively, I moved a few inches away so there was space between us. But his weight kept pulling me into him like gravity.
“We’ll just stay married. For a while. Until enough time passes that it’s not a big deal when we end it.”
“That’s going to be so awkward for you.”
“It’s already awkward,” he said. “But I’m not going to feed you to the wolves. We’ll come up with some rules. We’ll set a date for the end. But if we stay married for a while, it will at least give you a chance to write that new album for your record label. Blow their socks off before they decide you’re too problematic.”
I gaped at him. No one, and I meant that honestly, had ever worried so much about me. Cared so much. Given up so much. Not that I hadn’t paid for.
“That’s so nice of you,” I said, and nudged his shoulder with mine. Which was packed hard with muscle. “Underneath that beard, you really are a softie, aren’t you?”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said firmly. “We did this together. We live with it…together. If staying married makes things easier for you, it’s no hardship on my end. Right now it’s the off-season. I’ve got no foreseeable plans other than healing my body and getting shit done around the cabin.”
“I thought you said you lived in a loft in the city.”
“I do, but I also have some property just outside of Telluride. It’s nothing fancy. But I pretend sometimes like I’m a man who knows what he’s doing with tools and I try to fix things. My point is, I’ve got plenty of time before the season starts. Why not be married?”
I laughed. “Why not?” Like it was easy.
The sunlight turned the dust motes to glitter around us and his weight pulled me right into his body. I didn’t fight it. Why try? He was warm and he was solid and he was on my side. Literally and figuratively.
“Tell me what the rules are,” he whispered.
“Rules?”
“Yeah. You’re a woman. There are always rules.”
“Really? Like what?” I asked.
“No loud music after ten pm. Don’t leave the toilet seat up. No wet towels on the floor.”
I scrunched up my face. “Aren’t those things obvious?”
“Obvious like peanut butter and jelly is your favorite meal?”
“It’s easy to make and delicious. Plus peanut butter has a lot of protein,” I proudly defended my choice of the simple butelegant sandwich. “But I only eat the organic peanut butter from Trader Joe’s. So you know it’s sophisticated too.”
He snorted. “Not Jiff?”
“Sorry,” I shrugged.
“Okay, add, eat only non crappy peanut butter to the list. What else?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know. I never had my own rules before.
“Think about it. You mind if I go for a run? I’m going to change into the sweats Beatrice brought over. I’d like some time to clear my head before I fill my father and brother in with what’s going on.”
“Sure. The beach is easier than the street. Cars are tight along the highway here.”