My (Mostly) Fake Wedding - Penelope Bloom Page 0,55

I wished I could curl inside my own body like a human turtle. It was a slight relief that everybody was laughing along with Chris, who probably could’ve charmed his way out of jail.

But my relief ended a few minutes later when Chris concluded his little roasting spree and nodded to me. “Now, please put your hands together for my wifey, Belle.”

“Fiancée,” I corrected under my breath. I stood up, then remembered to tap my knife against my glass a few times. My mouth felt dry, especially when I took in the endless pairs of eyes watching and waiting for me to follow up Chris’ little impromptu comedy act. “So, um. I prepared a toast. My lovely fiancé doesn’t have the best listening skills. You could say he’s… Um.” I trailed off. I’d been hoping some hilarious blast of wit would come to me, but all I felt was dry wind and tumbleweeds floating around in my head.

“Right. So my toast. Thanks so much for everyone who came.” I had about six paragraphs more of my toast that I’d practiced in the mirror, written, re-written, taken notes on, and spent hours thinking about. Instead of finishing it, I practically fell back into my seat. “Thank you.”

Chris tilted his head at me, smiling strangely.

A pregnant pause followed from the room, then a scattering of unenthusiastic applause rose and fell as quickly as a belch.

Luna, Chelsea’s daughter, had been thoroughly enjoying Chris’ roast and was watching me with rapt attention when I stood. She looked adorable in her big, poufy dress, and I could tell she was still waiting for something from me. All the awkwardness in the world hadn’t done it, but her cute, eager little eyes motivated me to stand back up.

“Actually,” I said, clearing my throat. I reached down, picked up my glass, and tinged my knife against the side a few times, quieting down the low murmur that had resumed. “I did have one thing to say about Chris. It’s just that I can’t forget the first time we met… No matter how hard I try.”

There was a delayed wave of laughter, a few grins, and an uncontrollable burst of laughter from Luna—who slapped her little knees and shot me two thumbs up of approval while she mimicked wiping a tear from her eye.

Chris had folded his arms and was giving me a look of appraisal. I thought there might even be a touch of pride in his eyes.

“And…” I said, plunging forward. I had a huge smile on my face now, feeling like I’d surprised myself with the wit of my little joke, and trusting that more would come if I just kept talking. “Chris has a way of looking at the world through… Rose colored glasses.” I paused, half smiling as I waited for everyone to burst out laughing at my blinding wit. Luna looked around, realized she was supposed to laugh, and then roared with more laughter, which only made things more awkward as it was the only sound.

I put both my palms in the air and bowed my head. “Thank you for your time.”

Chris nudged me once everyone had gone back to talking. “Roast number one was pretty good. Roast number two?” He pursed his lips and shook his head in commiseration. “We’re going to have forever together. I’ll eventually train you up.”

“Last time I checked, forever didn’t have an expiration date.”

“Expiration dates are a myth. I mean, you want to tell me pasta goes bad? Bullshit. I’ve eaten pasta older than your grandma and lived to tell the tale.”

I watched him, trying to figure out what he was saying but getting no clues from his face. “Yeah, but our deal has an expiration date. It’s written into a contract. You get your extension with the team; we get a divorce. That was the plan, remember?”

Chris looked uncharacteristically hesitant. “There’s something I haven’t exactly told you about the team yet.”

“What do you mean? Did you already get the extension?” Why did that thought give me a fresh surge of dread? It should’ve been a relief if he got his deal already. It would mean things would be simpler. We could literally marry and divorce the next day, if we wanted. There wouldn’t be this awkward hangover period following the wedding where we didn’t know how long we’d need to keep pretending.

Chelsea interrupted us before Chris could explain. “Hey,” she said with a little grimace. “I know this is probably the last thing you want