Silence wraps around me as they all turn and gaze my way. “Seriously? Like a soft beige or, maybe, ivory?” Jensen asks.
“Uh, no. Soothing Sunset Coral.”
Rhenn barks out a laugh. “She painted your place pink? The man who hates color has a pink house?” He can’t control his laughter. “That’s fucking golden. I knew I loved that girl for a reason.”
I stand up straight and glare at my future brother-in-law before I even realize I’m doing it.
“Oh! Did you see that?” Jensen bellows, pointing at my face.
“Definitely. I think he was about ready to rumble with Rhenn over Free,” Latham chimes in.
“I was not.” My argument falls on deaf ears.
“Oh, there was definite anger on that face,” Rhenn agrees with a grin. “I was scared a little.”
“There wasn’t… I wasn’t…”
“Samuel and Freedom sitting in a tree,” Jensen sings, like the annoying little brother he’s always been.
“Shut up,” I retort, like the older annoyed brother I’ve always been.
“Boys, boys, boys, let’s not fight. Samuel can’t help it he’s falling in love with Freedom,” Latham replies, making them all laugh. It’s supposed to be a joke, one at my expense, but I can’t seem to muster the will to laugh along with them.
Mostly because it’s not funny.
When Rhenn sees I’m not laughing, nor am I annoyed, he stops snickering and his face turns seriously. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Jensen asks, glancing my way.
Rhenn takes a step forward. “You really did. You fell in love with her.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t.
“Son of a bitch,” Latham adds with a big smile and a slap on the back. “You fell for her.”
I plan to argue, to deny, but when my mouth opens, different words spill out. “I don’t know how it happened.”
Rhenn chuckles and shakes his head. “You never see it coming, right?”
Latham grins and nods. “Never. One minute you’re ready to pull out your hair and wring her neck, and the next thing you know, you have her pressed against the countertop and can’t even form sentences.”
“Gross,” Jensen gasps.
“It happens to the best of us,” Rhenn replies, as he picks up another dirty dish and hands it to Jensen.
They all go about their jobs, washing the pans, drying and putting them away, no one the wiser to the turmoil brewing in my head and chest. The constant tug-of-war between the two organs, neither of them getting the leg up on the other.
“So,” I start, adjusting my necktie, “what do I do now?”
The three men I’m closest to—my brother and the two I consider brothers—all turn and look my way. The water is shut off, the towels are set aside, and attention is turned on me. I hate it, but I don’t shy away. I asked them for help, the least I can do is hear them out.
“What do you mean what do you do?” Jensen asks, leaning his hip against the counter.
“Well, I mean, we live together, technically, we’re married—”
“What?” three men all bellow at the exact same time, and it’s right then and there I realize my mistake.
“Shit,” I mutter, closing my eyes and wishing the clock would turn back ten seconds. When it doesn’t and I know they’re still standing there, waiting on me to elaborate, I open my eyes and say, “Freedom and I, we, uh, got married in Las Vegas.”
“No shit? How? When?” Latham asks. There’s no judgment on his face or in his question, just curiosity.
“That night after the magic show. We left the club and drank. A lot. Apparently, we continued to drink and wound up at some little chapel on the strip.”
After a beat of silence, Jensen says, “I never would have thought you’d be the one to elope with someone you’re not even dating.”
“No kidding, but, somehow, we’ve been spending all this time together, and even though she painted my living room pink and the oak furniture some seafoam green color, I think I fell in love with her.”
They continue to smile at me for several long seconds, and I start to feel a little hot under the collar.
“Congratulations, man,” Rhenn says, coming over and patting me on the back.
“What?”
He shrugs. “Love is pretty great. Take it from a man who ran from it and avoided it his entire adult life. It wasn’t until I spent those few weeks here, with your sister, that I actually realized what a gift it really was.”
“Before you know it, you’ll be an old married man like me,” Latham adds.
“Actually, I think technically, he beat you to it,” Jensen says with a pointed look.
“Shit, you’re right. Who here actually thought Samuel would be the first to marry?” Latham teases.
“Not me,” Jensen argues.
“Actually, I’m not sure we’re going to stay married,” I tell them, suddenly feeling a tad nervous.
“What do you mean?” This from Rhenn.
“I’ve filed.”
I’m met with three shocked expressions. “Why?” Latham asks.
“Because we’ve gotten it all wrong. From the start, you don’t get married before you date, guys. That’s not how this works.”
“Not all stories are the same, Samuel,” Rhenn says.
“Besides, it’s the shit in the middle that makes the story good,” Latham adds.
“So you did things a little backwards. How bad could it be?” Jensen asks before turning around and finishing up the dishes.
How bad could it be?
My heart is telling me it’s not the end of the world, but I can’t seem to let it go. My brain just isn’t wired like that. It’s black and white, with no room for gray. And right now, I feel like my whole life is a whole lot of gray.
***
“Do you want some peach cobbler?” Freedom asks from the back door.
“Uh, no, thank you.”
I’ve been sitting outside, enjoying the cooler night, and thinking. Talking with the guys tonight planted the seed that I don’t actually have to get a divorce. Yet, here I am, trying to convince myself it’s the only way. Start over. Fresh slate. It’s all there in
