Don't Kiss the Bride

by Carian Cole

There are good people in the world, Skylar. People who don’t want anything in return except to know that they helped someone else.

He’s the first boy (or man, in this case) to ever hold my hand, and I like it too much to care what his reason is.

Fake wife asks. That’s me.

Suddenly, I feel a bond with Jude. Like some invisible thread has stitched us together.

Jude: Stop being a bad wife ;-)

The usual impulse to run as far away as possible from any sort of intimacy doesn’t come when I’m with her. I’ve been waiting for it.

When we’re close like this, everything in my world feels better, and I can’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else.

She’s the most unique, beautiful, smart, and adorable woman I’ve ever met in my life.

We’re just two people who get along great, make each other laugh, take care of each other, and have insane chemistry. It’s not about sex—I can get that anywhere. It’s a magnetic pull to get closer. Emotionally. Physically. Every time I’m with her I get this feeling of indescribable contentment that I can’t even wrap my head around.

Jude is like a magic eraser. When I’m with him, it all fades away.

“Actually, she’s the best I’ve ever had,

My Sparkle.

I want—no, I need—to make her happy and show her that she’s special to me and I want to be more than friends.

“I can’t picture my life without you. I don’t want to. I know our marriage isn’t real, but sometimes I wish maybe…”

She lets the ghost of them hang between us to haunt us. And haunt me, they do.

Trust is such a fragile gift. I’m not sure I’ll ever give it again.

I want to tell her I’m crazy about her and go put up our first Christmas tree. I want to tell her I want us to stay.

I could tell her I was a goner the second she blew that bubblegum bubble at me. I just didn’t know that’s what falling in love felt like. I could tell her she’s the only girl who’s ever made me happy, who’s ever given me what I needed. I could tell her she’s the only one who’s ever been there for me and made me think, even for a minute, that maybe love isn’t just a four-letter word. I could tell her I don’t give a shit about the age difference or what people think.

I could throw it all out there and tell her—for the first time in my life—I want to stay. With her. Indefinitely. Try for forever together.

“Why? I’m not afraid to die. I’m afraid to not live.”

She’s already embedded in my heart, branded there as the one and only woman I’ve ever had feelings for. And probably ever will.

This is all that matters—this man who just dropped everything he was doing for me without the slightest hesitation.

I want to stay here. Stay married to him. Be part of his family and the bar and build a life with him. I want to take photography and photojournalism classes online. I want to see if I can be a social media influencer.

“Jude is a good man. He cares about me. The only man who’s ever hurt me is sitting next to you.”

I don’t want a divorce. Skylar hasn’t just been playing nurse since I got hurt, she’s been a wife. My wife. I’ve been falling deeper and deeper for her, and wrestling with decisions more and more.

Since we met, every touch, every kiss, every talk between us has come naturally. Effortless in every way. Without motive or expectation.

Nothing has ever felt more unnatural and wrong than forcing myself to stay away from Jude.

I no longer want to live on the verge of a quick escape plan. I want to go through the rough times with him, rather than running away. And I especially want to go through the good times with him.

I want the wedding vows to be real. I want us to live them and honor them with our whole hearts, and see where life takes us together.

“I love you,” I whisper because I need to put it out there into the universe that I’m crazy in love with this man. I don’t care if it’s right or wrong or complicated or that he doesn’t even hear the words leave my lips. I love him. Enough to stay, enough to go, enough to wait.