I didn’t know why this bothered me. I didn’t believe in marriage at all, but for some reason, talking about it like it was a contract and not a sacrament made me feel a little sick. And his whole stance on relationships? It was bullshit. He was perfectly fine in relationships as long as he tricked himself into believing he wasn’t in one. He was loving and kind and attentive and all the things anybody could ever want in a boyfriend. He just wasn’t willing to be a boyfriend. If I pointed that out, it would only make the argument worse and more complicated, which would only rile me up more than I already was, so I went another route. 

I called my sister. Why I called her will forever be a mystery to me. Probably because, despite being the worst person ever to take relationship advice from, she was still my sister and best friend. And because midnight my time meant it was morning her time. It wasn’t odd for me to be awake in the middle of the night either, so Celia answered the phone as if I did this every day.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Hm.” She paused. I could hear the frown in her voice. “Spill it. What’s happening? Is it Rowan?”

“What? Why would you assume that?”

“Because every time you sound like this, it’s because he’s done something.” Another pause. “Wait. Is it the apprenticeship? Have you decided? Did you tour NYC?”

She said it like that. N-Y-C. I sighed. “It’s Rowan.”

“Knew it. What’d he do or not do now?”

“Well, for starters, he did me.” I covered my face with my free hand. “That sounds so weird.”

“Oh shit,” she gasped. “Hold on one second. I’m going to step outside so I can hear you better.” I heard her heels clicking against the floor, a door open and close, and her breath huffed into the line. “Talk to me.”

“Well, we went to New York on a business trip, right, and it went really well. We talked about hooking up while I was home—”

“Wait a minute. You discussed hooking up?”

“Yeah.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know.”

“Only Rowan, dude.”

“I know. I think he was just afraid that we’d hook up and go our separate ways again and I’d hate him because of it. Who knows?” I shrugged at my own thoughts.

“He’s so . . . particular. Did he also discuss what kind of condoms he uses with you or was that left off the check list?”

I bit my lip. I didn’t need a mirror to tell you my face was the color of a tomato.

“Oh my god, Tessa, tell me you used a condom.”

“I’m on the pill.” I rolled my eyes.

“You are the worst pill taker in the history of pill taking,” she said. “You can’t even remember to take your vitamins!”

“I’m fine. Chill out.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said and proceeded to pray to some saint.

“You aren’t even Catholic.”

“In times like these, I pull from all religions.”

I scoffed. “Stop it.”

“Okay. I’m done being dramatic. What happened after you had sex?”

I launched into everything, starting at the cocktail party and ending with him telling me he needed to get married if he wanted to take over the company. When I finished, I was met with silence. “Celia?”

“Yeah, I’m here, I just . . . that’s a lot to take in.”

“I know.”

“You can’t do this for him, Tess,” she whispered after a while. “I know you’ve always had a thing for him and you want to save the world and everyone in it, but that isn’t your job. You need to live your life too.”

“He didn’t ask me to help him. He didn’t even hint at me playing the role of fake wife.”

“But it bothers you to think about someone else doing it?”

I shrugged in the dark. Obviously, it bothered me. I was calling her about it in the middle of the night. “I guess.”

“Don’t do anything stupid. If you get stuck there, you’ll resent yourself and you’ll end up resenting him. I think Rowan knows that.”

“I don’t know that I would resent him.”

“You would. Look at Mom. Look at Grandma Joan. Look at every single woman you’ve ever met who was forced to give up a part of herself at one point in her life for a man.”

“So, basically all women,” I said. “We all give up something.”

She paused. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still, you’re too young to do that right now. He isn’t your responsibility, and you know he’d make an awful husband. He doesn’t know the first thing about love.”

I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to tell her she was wrong and that the statement wasn’t true. Rowan was kindhearted and thoughtful. He could make a great husband if he wanted to. But that was where the problem lay. He didn’t want to, and I wasn’t sure that would ever change. The doorbell rang before I got the chance to say anything at all. I sat up quickly.

“Was that the doorbell?”

“Yeah.” I got out of bed, slid my feet into my fuzzy sandals, and made my way downstairs. “Don’t hang up,” I whispered to my sister.

“Obviously not. Who the hell is there at this time? Isn’t it almost one in the morning there?”

“Yeah.” I pressed to my tiptoes, looked through the peephole, and frowned. “It’s Rowan.”

“What the hell?”

I stayed on my toes and inspected him better. He was wearing a black T-shirt that stretched over his expansive chest, his hair was in disarray, and his expression was completely blank. I heard my sister’s protest as I hung up the phone and pulled the door open slowly.

“What are you—”

He stepped forward, cupped the back of my neck, and crashed his mouth to mine.