The Fiancé Dilemma

by Elena Armas

And like Mom always said, normal is what you make of the cards fate hands you.

Chances were he wasn’t coming at all, but being delusional enough to think I could manifest things was something I loved to do. Plus, I had no alternative. It wasn’t like I could drive down to Tennessee and find some cowboy named Maverick to tangle in my mess. Believe me, I’d researched last night.

I ignored the warmth flooding my chest at the affection in Matthew’s voice. Oversharing was one of my love languages. It wasn’t the best love language to have, but it was the way I was wired. I overshared, and in turn, consumed and filed all and any information that fell into my hands.

“Those are the best things to fall in love with,” I heard myself say. “The ones we find accidentally.”

“It’s sweet of you to offer compensation for the hardship of touching you, kissing your cheek, or pretending I have the right to pull you on my lap just because I want to. All of which I agreed to do, by the way.”

“There’s a ring on your finger. I don’t care about the specifics, for all practical purposes, it means we’re a team. We handle shit together. I don’t care if you can do it on your own. You shouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe I would help any stranger. But it’s you I’m going this far for. It’s you. Josie.”

“You’re breaking my heart,” Matthew murmured, his nose almost brushing my temple. My body stilled, my mind quieting. “Why?” I whispered. “Because I’m trying to flirt and you’re not paying attention to me.”

“It was his dream to get married in a place like that.” “His dream should have been getting married to you.”

“You’ve been wearing it upside down,” he said. He held my hand higher. Impossibly gently too. “According to my grandma, the heart should be facing toward you. To indicate you’re taken. She said some people wait to be married to turn it around, but that Flanagans never did.” My chest squeezed, a tide of emotion rising, flooding everything in its wake. “Not saying anything has been driving me insane.”

Matthew’s grasp changed. His thumb and index finger closed around my finger, gently, decisively. The air in my lungs seized. “Josie,” he whispered, voice hushed. Low. “Christ,” he cursed, huffing out a laugh. “The ring’s facing the wrong way,” he repeated. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“It makes a little boy who used to get called four-eyes puff his chest with pride.” I felt my face fall a little, and Matthew chuckled. “Hey, none of that.” Hands moved around the sides of my face before dropping to his sides. “Have you seen me now? I’m hot as shit.”

“The first time I heard about Josie was through a text.” I turned my head to look at him, finding his gaze on me. “It was from Adalyn, and it read: I think I’ve just met your soul mate.” Something in the middle of my chest bucked. Soul mate. Adalyn laughed from her seat. “I’d forgotten about that.” “I haven’t,” Matthew said, his eyes still on me. “Do you remember what I texted back, Ads?” There was a strange pause, and then Adalyn said in a soft, baffled voice, “You asked for a picture. Of your future wife.”

“What if I can’t give you any fucking firsts, so I want to make sure I get a chance at being your last?”

Matthew tilted his head and he smirked. I really loved that smirk. I loved the words that came out of him. I’d always liked a sprinkle of dirty talk, but Matthew was filthy. And I loved what it did to me. I loved that he knew exactly what to say, exactly how to say it.

“You aren’t scared of a life or a commitment to him. It’s something else that’s missing. But I don’t know… Maybe nothing’s missing. Or maybe we don’t need to be whole to function, you know? Maybe we just need to learn to love who we are and let people around us love us for that, too.”

“It’s okay to be hurt,” she continued with a fierce expression. “It’s okay to have issues. It’s fine for life to bruise you and leave a mark. That only means you’re living, you know? It means you’re trying.

Something caught my eye as she took a new step. Larger this time. It was on her wrist. Her mom’s handkerchief. My restraint broke then. God, I was going to cherish this woman as long as she let me. As hard as I could. I returned my gaze to her eyes. She knew I’d seen it. And there were tears welling up. They weren’t sad, but they broke me, punched me in the gut all the same. I wanted to kiss that away.