Happily Never After

by Lynn Painter

“Thank God for The Objector.”

How could I not smile at that? I realized as I looked down at her that I had no idea who she was. Wild bride, serious professional, hopeless car romantic; which one was the real her? “You’re very weird, Sophie.” “I know,” she said, lifting her chin just a little, daring me to pass judgment. “I like it,” I added, meaning that. There was something about her that . . . shit, that I liked.

“Hi, I’m Larry.” He crossed his arms, nodded his head at the other one, and said, “This is Rose. What’s your business with Soph?”

HELP LARRY AND ROSE ARE SENIORS

She’d been a beautiful bride and a hot businesswoman, but the plaid shirt, jeans, and boots? Yeah, that shit worked for her.

She finally looked up at me, giving in to a full grin that had the power to knock a guy on his

A woman with a fiddle was playing “Safe and Sound,” and as we sat down on a pew toward the back, I couldn’t believe someone would choose to have a song from The Hunger Games played at their wedding.

“That’s called Saturday night, sunshine.”

Await sunshine is so cute

“Shut up and drive, Parks.” “Shut up and ride, Steinbeck.”

I glanced over at Max, who was staring at me like he was trying to figure me out, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. So I flipped him off.

“Are you laughing at me?” I asked, not caring if he was. “I’m enjoying you,”

“I guess I just want to remember the night I reconnected with happy for a few hours.”

“I’m sorry he made you cry,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets so I didn’t do something stupid like touch her. “I don’t know you well, but I know that Sophie Steinbeck should only ever be laughing.”

So my dad and I were basically hosed until I fell in love. Which would be never. Welcome to my hell.

“I have a tux.” “You do?” she asked, sounding shocked. “Why?” I looked down at the grass and ran my shoe over a soft spot. “Sometimes I go out.” “Whoa,” she said. “Are you a billionaire?” “Are you high?”

She was a huge smart-ass and I really liked it. I really liked her, honestly.

“I don’t want to sound like an asshole misogynist, Soph,” he said, his eyes still everywhere on me, “but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman look this gorgeous in real life.”

That was the magical thing about the kiss—you didn’t matter at all. Technically you kind of could’ve been anyone.” “What?” What the fuck? “No, I mean, you’re a great kisser and all, for sure. But for me, the realization that I was doing it for myself—that I was getting what I wanted from your mouth—was what made it the best kiss I’ve ever kissed. In a weird way, I was kind of kissing myself.”

“Can you imagine if we had sex that way?”

HELP I LOVE HER SHES SO SPONTANEOUS

Will you be my friend, Sophie?” “A thousand times yes, Maxxie.”

I stopped when she did, but I shook my head, breathing hard. “I don’t think a sweaty picture is necessary—stop that.” The little shit took a picture of me without warning.

Such a little shit,

why has he called her that 4 times in one page..

“If you still want this when you’re sober, Soph, I am yours—night or day,” I said, meaning every word. Because as she stared up at me, I realized that I was very into her. Not into this, this chemistry-gone-wild thing that existed between us, but into her. I was falling for her.

Holy fucking Calvin Klein boxer briefs, good God almighty.

I don’t think people say HAM anymore. Max: What are you, the fucking language police?

God, I loved her.

“I fought it hard, because trust me, this is the last thing I want. But now you consume me, Soph, every single part of me, and I like it. I can’t drive without thinking about your impractical car, can’t run without thinking about the way you run, can’t put on a fucking hard hat without picturing the way you looked in that stupid yellow hat. Somehow you’ve become my center, and God help me, it feels right.”

Having my heart eventually broken by Max couldn’t feel much worse than it felt to not have him in my life at all, could it?

I hate the way I want to talk to you and be with you all the time. I hate that you were the only person I wanted to call after my interview and oh, yeah—the thought of you and your ex made me literally sick to my stomach. As in I puked out my car window when I heard you blew me off to see her.”

“In conclusion, love is still a lie and I want no part of that foolish fairy tale. This thing that I feel for you, however, this friendship, undeniable chemistry, kinship, respect, admiration, happiness—or the acronym FUCKRAH, if you will—is outrageously potent and I would like to explore it further. If there is availability on your calendar, I’m very interested in having meaningful sex with you.”

“I don’t want to scare you, but I’m not in love but also kind of in love with you, Soph.”

“I’m not in love but also kind of in love with you, too, Max.”

Because as it turned out, love was actually real.

“I’m never going to be bored, am I?” “Not a chance, Objector.”

There was literally nothing in our life that I would ever object to ever again.