The Marriage Pact (3 page)

Before I could say anything, he beat me to it, reading my thoughts as he’d been doing for years. “That didn’t feel like a yes.” He sounded as stunned and numb as his proposal had left me.

“I’m sorry.” Hopelessly inadequate words that were swept away with the wind as soon as they left my mouth.

“Why?”

The anguish on his face was almost enough to make me change my mind. Almost. “Because our lives are just starting. We can’t… we’ve never even dated anyone else, Brody.”

“I don’t
want
to date anyone else, don’t you get it? I just want
you
. It’s always been you.”

“You feel that way now, but if we got married you’d… you’d realize, sooner or later, that it was a mistake.”

“I wouldn’t!” he burst out. “What are you even talking about? This is crazy. I thought you wanted the same things I did. Why have you even been
with
me if you didn’t want to be together long term?”

How could I answer a question like that? I worried my lip between my teeth as I considered him. How could I make him understand that I couldn’t bear to be without him when at the same time I had to do what was best for both of our futures? I knew how this would play out. In a year or two, we’d have a baby, then maybe another. Before we were five years in, I’d have stretch marks and dark circles under my eyes and we’d both wonder where all our dreams had gone.

“It’s complicated,” I pleaded with him to understand. “You know I want to go to Brown and—”

“I know,” he replied glumly, turning his back to me. “I would go with you, you know. Just because you’re going to college doesn’t mean we have to be over.”

How could I take him alongside my carry-on? It didn’t work that way and he knew it, no matter how hard he tried to pretend. Truth was, I was sure if I probed long enough he’d admit that he’d thought a marriage would persuade me to stay in town and go to community college. I wanted more than that for myself and I’d worked long and hard to get it.

Besides which, what I’d said was true. We’d only ever been with each other. Brody might have thought I was the best thing since sliced bread, but how could you know something like that for certain when you’d never tried cheese? I knew I wouldn’t be able to make him understand, so I didn’t try. I lay back down against the pillows, staring at the ceiling as I waited for the explosion I knew was brewing.

“Is this about college boys? It is, isn’t it?! You want to go three states away and not have to worry about your high school boyfriend,” he snarled, hurling the words at me like weapons.

Each one made its impact and I winced from the blow. “You were never just—”

“Save it,” he snapped. “I had you figured all wrong.”

“You’re angry now. If you’ll just—”

“Just go.”

“Brody, please, just let me—”

“I don’t have anything else to say to you!” he shouted. “Get out!”

With one last beseeching look, I stood on shaky legs and began rifling for my clothes. I found my shorts in a crumpled puddle. I could practically feel him seething with anger, every bit of it directed at me. Tears were stinging my eyes and clogging my throat—I couldn’t stay here a moment longer. I grabbed a shirt off the floor, not caring who it belonged to. I threw them on, bra and panties be damned.

By the time I managed to stumble outside, my legs were pumping and I was running as fast and as far as I could. What had I done? I ran until my legs gave out. When they did, I fell to the ground, arms wrapped around my stomach as I gasped in deep, burning gulps of air. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, and it was only when I was wiping my eyes that I realized he’d kicked me out of my own house.

* * *

Brody was long gone by the time I made my way back to the house. I locked myself in my bedroom and cried into Mr. Soft Paws, ignoring my mom’s knock at the door until she finally went away. I wasn’t hungry anyway.

Even long after I cried myself to rags, I couldn’t sleep. I tried, I really did, but it was no use. I tossed and turned and glared at my alarm clock. Finally, when it read 12:17 I decided this had gone on long enough. I exchanged my nightgown for a pair of faded sweats and quietly let myself out of my bedroom, tiptoeing gently down the hall. Thankfully, I didn’t see any lights, so it was a safe bet my parents were in bed. It was normally a safe bet at this hour, but you could never be too careful.

I moved slowly and softly through the darkness, feeling my way around the house until I made it to the back door. When my hand found the knob, I hesitated. What if he didn’t want to see me? What if he didn’t ever want to see me again? The thought was almost enough to make me dissolve into tears all over again.

Steeling myself and searching frantically for my resolve, I took a few deep breaths and let myself out the door. It was an easy walk next door, even in the dark; my feet had learned the path long ago, and there’d been more than one midnight rendezvous.

I knelt by his mother’s flowerbed and fished for pebbles. When my fingers closed around four small ones, I tested the weight of them in my hand before pocketing them. I walked around the house and pulled out a pebble. The moon was full tonight, which made it easy to see my target. I aimed and tossed the pebble, which bounced off with a harmless
pink
.

Come on, wake up, Brody
, I thought as I tossed the second one. We’d started doing this when we were thirteen as a way to talk without waking our parents. I couldn’t remember when the last time was that I’d used it—nowadays, I just let myself in the side door. I tossed the third pebble and rubbed the fourth between my fingers, debating. Still nothing. Might as well go home and try to get some sleep.

I was turning around when I saw a flash in the window. When the sill opened and Brody peeked out, looking sexily sleepy with his hair rumpled, my heart froze in my chest. When he saw me, he scowled.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I… I thought you might want to… talk.”

“Talk?” he echoed, his voice rising. “What’s there to talk about? Unless you’ve changed your mind.” He snorted without giving me a chance to answer. “But you never change your mind, do you?”

It wasn’t fair, but I wasn’t about to point it out when I hadn’t, in fact, changed my mind. I was sure I was doing what was best for the both of us.

“I’m not going to stay awake at one in the morning to ease your conscience. Run home, little girl.”

I could feel myself getting angry. I knew he was upset, but did he have to be such a jerk? When he turned to walk away, I took aim and tossed the pebble through the open window. My aim was always better when I was angry and this time was no exception: it hit him squarely in the back of the head.

When he whirled to face me, eyes blazing, any remorse I might have felt was extinguished. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he demanded sharply. “First, you break my heart, now you throw things at me?”

“If you’d stop being such a jerk—”

“Better than being a heartless bitch, I guess.”

His words stunned me, paralyzing me for an instant. No matter how mad at me he got, he’d never called me that. I could see the anger fading, could see his expression softening as he looked at me, but I couldn’t speak. “Shan, listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I whirled around and jogged away, not wanting to hear what else he might say.
Funny
, I thought when I got back into my bed, hugging my knees to my chest.
And I thought I couldn’t feel any worse.

Chapter Two

Three years later

“Shan! Shana Rae! Over here, pumpkin!”

I forced my lips into a smile with difficulty as I turned to see Aunt Liz hurrying toward me, waving her hands theatrically. “Hey, Aunt Liz.”

“Don’t you ‘hey, Aunt Liz’ me, young lady! Give us a hug!”

I rolled my eyes at my friend, Becky, who had turned away to hide her amusement. My aunt had been obsessed with Queen Elizabeth for almost a decade now and thought speaking in the royal ‘we’ made her seem impressive. I had no choice but to oblige, leaning in and pecking her dry, wrinkled cheek.

She pulled back, beaming, her arms still spread wide. “There she is, our girl. Home at last.”

I was about to reply when I was bumped from behind. I was jolted forward, sending my champagne spewing out of its glass.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry.”

I turned around to see Harry Parker standing behind me. I smiled genuinely this time. “Parker! How have you been?”

“Shan! I didn’t know you’d be here today.”

“I never miss a wedding,” I said with a wink. It was true. In all the time I’d been gone, whenever I got a wedding invitation from one of my high school friends I made the trip back—flying when I could afford it and road tripping it when money was tight. This one made it five weddings in the last three years.

“Just your own,” he teased and I didn’t even bother to fake a laugh. People in our town had been making runaway bride jokes at my expense for years. Nobody seemed to care that technically we’d never been engaged.

“When are you and Marcy tying the knot?” I shot back. The look on his face told me that I’d just gained the upper hand. He wouldn’t be messing with me anymore this trip.

“I’m still a young man, Shan. A bird’s gotta be free and so do I.”

“She dumped you,” I deadpanned.

“Burned!” Becky chimed in. “You got burned!”

I gave him a faint smile, which he returned. “Things happen sometimes. People grow apart.”

“Hey, speaking of growing apart and all, your best bud’ll be happy to see you’re back in town.”

I arched an eyebrow. Brody was
here
? He didn’t do weddings. Even if I’d accepted his proposal three years ago, we would have just eloped.

“Nice seein’ ya.”

“Yeah, you too. Take care of yourself, Parker.”

“Sure thing, and you know, if you get lonely while you’re here…”

I rolled my eyes at him, but I had to laugh. “I still remember that time in sixth grade when you got a crayon stuck up your nose on a dare. Sorry, don’t think that one’s fading anytime soon.”

He waved me away with a hand, but I could see him grinning as he ambled off. Harry Parker had always been a ladies’ man, moving from one girl to the next when it suited him. Even though I had been more than a bit lonely lately, he wasn’t one I’d want to pass time with.

“Did you know he was going to be here?” I asked Becky as I turned around. Aunt Liz had disappeared. It was so like her to say hello with fanfare and then vanish in the next instant.

“‘Course I knew.”

I whirled on her, glaring daggers. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me?” The words came out as an angry hiss, more vehement than I’d intended.

“‘Cause you wouldn’t have come,” she answered without remorse. Becky knew she wasn’t in any danger of me staying mad for long. Next to Brody, she’d been my best friend for the four grueling years of high school and the one to comfort me in the days leading up to graduation when Brody wouldn’t even look at me. Rumors circulated fast and while I never knew exactly what people were saying about me, it was clear none of it was in my favor. None of the basketball team would talk to me and Brody wasn’t lacking for female attention.

“Because I don’t need to
be
here if—”

“Shana, you
made it
!” Kristina Lasky, my chem partner in eleventh grade, walked up to us wearing the poofiest white dress I’d ever seen. What’s more, it looked like the front was completely covered in white fishnet.

“Of course I did!” I gushed, returning her hug. “What a beaut—stunning—
original
dress! It’s so…
you
, Kristina!”

“Isn’t it though?” she asked, beaming as she twirled for us. “Getting married is such a blast! And you know the best part?”

I shook my head and out of the corner of my eye saw Becky do the same.

“You don’t have to
try
so hard!” she whispered, as though she was sharing long-hoarded secrets to matrimonial bliss. “I plan on eating at least three desserts a
day
on our honeymoon! After all these months of dieting and cleansing… I swear, if I never see an organic smoothie again, I’ll die a happy woman.”

Of diabetic shock
,
I thought to myself.

“Hey, have you seen Brody yet?” Her voice took on the same pitying, sympathetic tone people used when they brought him up in conversation with me. “Is it weird that we invited both of you? Just that Matt and he were such good friends. Are, I mean. They are.”

“Is it weird?” I echoed. “No, Kristina, it’s not
weird
. We all grew up together, he still lives here. We’re going to run into each other sooner or later. And you know what, it’s been three years. I’m sure Brody’s moved on and so have I.” I hadn’t realized how loud I’d been speaking until I saw Becky’s mouth round into an
O
of surprise.

“Well,
excuse
me!” she huffed. “I’ll mind my own business from now on!”

“Kristina, wait!”

She disappeared in a flouncing huff of tulle, swallowed by a crowd of well-wishers.

I closed my eyes, trying to turn my ears off for just a second and pretend I wasn’t hearing the whispers of people talking about me. When I opened them, Becky was standing in front of me with a concerned expression.

“Should we get out of here? Maybe you’re not up for this.”

“It
has
been three years,” I mumbled, a poor defense if ever there was one. “Why can’t people move on?”

“People like happy endings, that’s all.”

“They like the drama,” I muttered. “What do they think is going to happen? We’re going to run into each other and our love, our reignited flame, is going to light the sky with fireworks?”

“Damn, girl,” she grinned. “If being a doctor doesn’t pan out, you should try your hand at poetry.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Have you had the crab puffs yet? They’re supposed to be ‘superbly rich and decadent.’”