Page 45 of Truth or More Truth
“I’ve known you a long time. I can tell when you’re keeping something from me. Tell me. Is it about Melissa?”
I shake my head. “No.” I pause. “Well, not directly. We almost had an accident last night.” I run my fingers through my hair again. “I was driving. It was pitch black. There was a deer in the road, and I had to slam on the brakes to avoid it. I … didn’t handle it well.”
Diego’s hand lands on my shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”
We’re almost at the community center, so I say, “I won’t go into detail, but I basically shut down.”
“How did Melissa respond to that?”
I don’t need to think about my answer before simply saying, “Perfectly.”
I decide to try to avoid Diego the rest of the night, because I don’t want to talk about Kelli or Nanette or Melissa or what happened last night, and I know he won’t leave any of it alone. Instead, I choose to stick by Melissa’s side. I’ve seen a few guys eyeing her, and I don’t like it. I also don’t like that I’m feeling protective and possessive of someone who can never be mine, but I can’t help it. After this wedding and the ride back to Chicago, I’m not sure when I’ll see her again. I want to make the most of the time I have with her, even if it can’t last beyond tomorrow.
And I don’t feel bad keeping her from getting to know any of the single men here. None of them are from anywhere near Chicago, so there’s not much of a chance she could make things work with any of them anyway. In fact, I’m doing her a service by not letting her get her hopes up. Right? Right.
Leslie chose to have a small head table at the reception, with only Randall and Wendy sitting with her and Ash. I’m happy with the setup, because that means I’m not on display to the entire room, and neither is Melissa.
She and I are assigned to a table with Wendy’s half-sister Andrea along with her daughter and mom, as well as Shannon and his childhood friend Danny and Danny’s wife Amelia. Somehow, I end up sitting next to seven-year-old Emily, who reminds me a lot of Kelli at that age—talkative and with a vocabulary well beyond her years.
“I know her,” Emily says to me as she points at Melissa, who’s sitting on my other side and chatting with Amelia. “She was in my aunt’s wedding.” She cocks an eyebrow at me. “You were in her wedding, too, weren’t you?”
I nod. “I was.”
Emily asks, “Is she your wife?” Before I can answer, she continues, “She’s pretty. Is that why you married her? Uncle Randall says he married Aunt Glinda—that’s what I call my aunt Wendy, because she reminds Uncle Randall of the good witch fromThe Wizard of Oz—anyway, he married her because she’s prettyandshe’s smartandshe knows how to put him in his place. I’m not sure where his place is, but that’s what he says. So did you marry your wife because she’s pretty or because she’s smart or because she puts you in your place?”
She props her elbow on the round table and rests her chin on her hand as she waits expectantly for me to respond, and I can’t help but grin at her and mimic her posture so we’re facing each other.
I glance beyond her to her grandma and mom, who aren’t paying any attention to us. In fact, they seem to be paying a lot of attention to Shannon, which doesn’t bother me in the least,because he appears very preoccupied with Emily’s pretty, red-haired mother, who looks like she could be Wendy’s twin.
“Well …?” Emily prompts, when I don’t answer within two seconds.
I shake my head. “Melissa’s not my wife.” It shouldn’t pain me to say those words, but it does.
“Hmm.” Emily now taps her chin with her finger. “But she’s pretty, right?”
There’s no way I can stop my smile. “Indeed, she is.”
“And she’s smart?”
“She’s that, too.”
“Does she put you in your place?” Emily cocks an eyebrow at me at me again. I think it’s her signature move.
I chuckle. “Sure does.”
“Are you married to someone else?”
I’m not sure I can stop this line of questioning, but we’re veering into dangerous territory. “Nope.”
“Isshemarried to someone else?”
“She is not.”
Emily pokes her finger into my chest. “Then you should marry her.”
“He should marry who?” Melissa’s voice interrupts our chat from behind me.
My face feels hot, and I don’t turn to face her.
