sock drawer. I nodded and kissed him, trying to take away what was left of his pain.
But now Tommy’s past was rearing her beautiful head and I had to do something to protect my family.
“She’s going to be in Destin,” I tell him. “All summer—shooting a stupid series for Netflix. She’s playing a mom.” I scoff at the irony.
“Is that all?” Tommy asks. “You had me worried for a second.”
I stand and turn around, looking down at him with a nonplussed look on his face. “Is that all? Isn’t that enough? Your movie-star ex-wife is going to be in Destin. All summer.”
“She’s more of a TV star than a movie star,” Tommy says with a smile that fades as soon as he sees my reaction. He reaches for my hand but I pull it away, resting it firmly on my hip instead. “Babe, Monica is part of my past, and that’s it. She could be in Beverly Hills or sitting in our living room and it’s all the same to me.”
“That’s exactly the point,” I tell him. He looks confused, so I continue. “I don’t want her anywhere near our living room, or you, or our daughter.”
“Okay,” Tommy says.
“What do you mean, okay?” I yell, shaking my hands in frustration.
“I mean okay-okay. We’ll keep her out of our living room.”
I drop my hands to my sides, not sure what to do now that he’s agreed so easily. “And away from CeCe.”
“Away from me and from CeCe.” Tommy reaches for me, and I let him pull me back down on the couch beside him.
“I’m not crazy,” I tell him, which I’m sure doesn’t help my case.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Tommy says, nuzzling my neck. “Because I’m crazy about you. Are you sure you didn’t lie about wanting to marry me?”
“I’m sure,” I say.
“Why not?” he asks, kissing the curve of my neck.
“For the same reasons I’ve told you why not for the last fifteen years.”
A marriage license didn’t stop Tommy’s dad from running out on his mom, but somehow Tommy’s response to growing up in a dysfunctional home was the exact opposite of mine. Then again, my dad stayed. If he had left—or better yet, if my mom had left him—then maybe I wouldn’t have such a strong bias against the institution.
“But things are different now,” Tommy says, as if he has to remind me that our happiness has an expiration date.
His mouth finds mine, but only for a moment before pulling away to continue his case. “If we aren’t married, you may not be able to come see me at the hospital.”
“You said you didn’t want to go to the hospital.”
“If we’re married, you can inherit my estate without being taxed.”
“That might be your most romantic proposal yet, Tommy Whistler.”
He sighs in defeat and leans back against the couch. I should probably just say yes, but he’s the one who told me to stay real. And it wouldn’t be real if I suddenly changed my mind after all these years of saying no.
He knows better than anyone else how deep my resentment goes. And I know this is about us now, not my parents, but it’s hard to let go of a belief you’ve held on to for most of your life. I can’t remember a time I didn’t believe blue was the best color, broccoli was the worst vegetable, and marriage was a joke.
How could I respect an institution that my parents so blatantly disrespected? Maybe if I didn’t know my dad cheated, that my mom knew and did nothing. Keeping up appearances was more important to them than the actual relationship. And if that was what marriage was about, I’d decided, I didn’t want anything to do with it.
I wanted what Tommy and I have. A relationship that isn’t defined by anything but our love for each other, that pays no attention to appearances. We’ve stayed together because we’d be lost without each other, because we wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else or with anyone else—not because we’re bound by a stupid piece of parchment paper.
If we change that now, it would be like I’m doing it because he’s sick, not because we want to spend the rest of our lives together. The rest of his life.
“How about we skip the wedding and go straight to the honeymoon?” Tommy asks, the sparkle back in his eyes. “We’ve got the house to ourselves tonight, and there are still a few rooms we haven’t christened yet.”
“I’m Jewish,” I remind him.
“There