Perfectly Wedded (Perfect Crush #1)

23. Sloan

TWENTY-THREE

Sloan

I ’ve never slept so well as last night. Vale holding me all night was tender, satisfying, better than all the dreams I’ve ever had . And perhaps highly unusual since nothing beyond that happened. But I’ve never fit in with the usual standards of how to do things, especially not when it comes to love. My life has been a series of missteps, of figuring out what works for me. It’s part of my quirkiness, and maybe my superpower, to think outside the box, doing things backward: marriage first, then the real relationship.

But in this case, it’s also my guardrail. Taking things slow will give me time to figure things out, to finally prove to myself I’m not who everyone says. Not the impulsive one who runs off to the next thing. Not the one making hasty decisions, then regretting them. The only reason I stayed with Anthony is I thought I could be different. What he needed me to be. I never had feelings for him the way I do for Vale.

I hadn’t seen it before, but Anthony leaving me was a small mercy. Because it’s what led me to Vale.

Back then, I was broken in so many ways, but that didn’t stop Vale from seeing past the mess. It’s madness, really, but love can be like that—it makes no sense in the moment .

If we’re taking things slow, then rushing into a physical relationship before we’ve even defined our relationship would be like diving off a cliff before checking the depth of the water below.

Insanity.

I’ve already made a mess of things. I rushed into marriage to solve one problem, only to create a dozen more.

Even knowing that, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. I still want to dive right into Vale’s arms. But behind this feeling of nothing could go wrong now is a tiny niggling doubt that I can’t put my finger on. Maybe it’s because I’ve been hit by too many hard things, like waves battering the shore: Mom dying, Dad remarrying and then divorcing, a car accident and brain injury, the breakup with Anthony, and then a relapse.

Life has taught me that love doesn’t protect you from hard things. It doesn’t shelter you from the storm. Instead, the torrents will come, pummeling you in a thousand small ways, and it’s love that buoys you, keeps you from going under, gives you reason to hold on.

I roll over in bed, stretching my arm across the silky smooth cotton, reaching for Vale. My hand lands on an empty pillow.

“Vale?” I call sleepily.

I prop myself on my elbows, rub my eyes, and take a deep breath. The dark nutty smell of coffee hits me like the first light of morning.

There’s a soft knock at the door before Vale peeks his head in. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he says with a lazy morning grin and mussed waves that make me want to thread my fingers through his hair. I love being the only one privy to this part of his life, the side that isn’t polished and PR ready.

Vale sets the coffee on a small table next to my bed before opening the curtains. “Have you seen the view outside?” he asks, opening the blackout shades. The light is nearly blinding. The sky is a blue ribbon, the ocean a wavy blanket.

I take a sip of coffee, drink in the dark bitter bite, the touch of cream. Neither of us brings up last night, like the dream of it might disappear, a soap bubble mid-air.

I just drink in the goodness in front of me. His dark silhouette outlined in the bedroom window as he puts one hand on the sill.

Vale is my husband. Mine.

That thought thrills me and terrifies me in equal measure.

What if I can’t be the wife he needs? What if I mess this up? What then?

It feels like a weight on my chest, pressing the air from my lungs like a slow leak. I want so badly to talk to Jaz about last night, how everything shifted from I and me , to us and we.

The best thing about having a sister is telling her everything, the deepest secrets of my heart, knowing she’ll carry them too.

But this is the one thing I can’t tell her. My most life-changing secret will stay buried under half-truths. She can’t ever know we weren’t really together, that our relationship was a fraud and we married so I could get Vale’s insurance.

If that ever comes out, it could wreck our relationship.

Because if there’s one thing Jaz hates, it’s lying. All because of Dad, who broke our family apart over a lie. After that mistake, every promise felt like one he couldn’t keep. I’ll be at your recital. I won’t forget your birthday party. I’ll make it up to you.

The promises piled up like bad excuses. They’re the only thing he left behind.

“What do you want to do today?” Vale says, watching me as I stretch my arms in the air.

“I’m looking forward to being thoroughly lazy,” I say with a yawn.

“And I support you being thoroughly lazy,” Vale says with a grin that shows he approves. “Is that thoroughly lazy by the pool or thoroughly lazy in the bedroom?”

“Most definitely poolside,” I say. “I’m planning on reading a book and ordering pink lemonade from the tiki bar.” I shift my legs over the edge of the bed. “Care to join me?”

“I will, as soon as I take a run with Brax. We can’t let this trip make us soft.” He crosses the room to kiss the top of my head before he leaves. My pulse stutters. “When I finish, I’m back on duty as your personal cabana boy.”

“You mean husband ,” I clarify. I don’t want him to ever feel like our relationship is a joke again.

“I like that even better.” He leaves with a wink, and my heart spins like a top. If this is happiness, please don’t let it ever end.

I know that eventually we’ll have to return to real life and figure out what we’ll do about us. But for now, I’d like to sink my toes deep into this dream world, the one where Vale and I are together forever. If I’m being honest, this could go on forever. Because I’m not sure I ever want to return to reality after last night.

The rest of the day is a hazy blur of pool time with Jaz as we read and dip our feet in the water. The boys join us after their morning run and then decide to do some paddleboarding. I’m still sore from snorkeling, so Jaz and I stay behind while the boys dash off for a day of fun. This feels downright irresponsible, taking a day of doing nothing but lounging around in paradise. In fact, this entire honeymoon feels like a much-needed break after a long stretch of relentless change. And I’m dying to tell Jaz what’s happened between Vale and me, if only to confide in someone how deliriously happy I am. How, for once, I’m sticking to what I promised.

“I have to tell you something,” I say, closing my book, leaving one finger tucked inside the flap in case I chicken out. I take a deep breath. “It’s about Vale and me.”

For so long I’ve wanted to tell her, but I don’t want her to look at me the way she does our father. Now that Vale and I are finally a couple, how we came together seems less significant, and somehow, more forgivable.

Jaz looks up from her magazine, her big sunglasses hiding her eyes, a floppy hat shading her face. “What’s that?”

“I need to tell you about something that happened in Vegas.”

“With Vale? ”

I bite my lip. “Yes . . . and Anthony.”

“Anthony?” She leaves her magazine open in her lap. “What does he have to do with Vegas?”

“He was there. At the gala,” I start slowly.

“Was his little girlfriend there too?” Jaz is still furious at Anthony for dropping me and running straight into the arms of one of his skaters. “I would’ve loved to have seen his face when he saw you with Vale. Anthony and Vale couldn’t be more different.”

“He was shocked to find out we were a couple,” I say. Even though Vale made it up. Our relationship started out as a ruse, then continued that way into our marriage. Saying it out loud sounds ludicrous, but I try.

“It’s how everything began,” I say, fumbling for words. “They were engaged. And Vale suggested we one-up them.”

“By getting married?” Her eyebrows fly up.

“No, engaged.” It’s hard to explain the sequence of events now. It all happened so fast. Pretending we were engaged, then deciding to elope. In hindsight, it seemed like the answer to my problems—the breakup, the relapse—all solved with a quick trip to the altar. “It wasn’t because of Anthony that we married. There’s more to it.” That part is true at least.

“Love, right?” Her response is so automatic, it pains me.

I hesitate. Right now, I wish I could go back to Vegas, rewind the clock and call Jaz before I made this enormous, life-changing decision. But part of me was afraid she’d talk me out of going through with it, explaining all the ways it could go off the rails, like a checklist of how to ruin your life by eloping with your best friend. You’re not good at sticking with things. Can you really be different now?

Yes, I can. I know that now.

But I also feel a pinch of regret: I should’ve told Jaz and not waited. I should’ve braced myself for her pushing back on my insecurities. In the end, I still would’ve married Vale. That was the right thing to do because underneath the excuses, I love him .

But I can’t undo what’s already done. I can only choose to tell her the truth now. “Well, about that...”

Jaz’s phone buzzes from her beach bag. She glances at the screen, her brow furrowing.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“It’s Dad. Wondering where I am.”

“Dad? Why would he ask where you are, unless...”

She stares at his message. “He’s in Sully’s Beach. At our house. And Leo just answered the door.”

“Uh-oh. Why is he there?”

She shrugs. “Because he couldn’t find anyone better to hang out with would be my guess. I’m telling him we’re on vacation.” She types a text, then laughs. “I bet Leo gave him a warm welcome.”

“More like growled at him to get off our property,” I add.

I blink and wonder if I should let her resolve this with Dad first. Why didn’t Dad text me?

Probably because he knows how much Jaz holds against him. How she’s always hated his lies and never forgiven him for walking away from our family after the truth came out.

Her phone beeps. She studies the text, then shakes her head. “He says he wants to get together when we get back.” She tosses her phone back in her bag.

“Aren’t you going to answer him?”

“No. You know he hides the truth. Makes promises he can’t keep. I can’t stand when people lie to me. Especially family.”

Something twists inside me, wrenching me.

Before Mom died, Dad promised he’d always put us first. That he’d be there for us. For a long time, he was. He remarried, and things were good for years, until that one day, when we found out Dad was cheating. When Jaz walked in on him kissing someone who wasn’t our stepmom, it broke something in her. She couldn’t trust Dad after that, and it altered her ability to forgive anyone who lied to her, no matter the reason. After that, whenever Dad made a promise, then didn’t show up, it felt like he was reopening a scab.

“What if he’s there when we get back?” I ask.

“That’s not like Dad,” she says, turning back to her magazine. “He’ll be gone. Some people never change.” She flips a page, her knee propping up the magazine, her eyes flicking over the stylized images of a stranger’s home remodel. A family poses on a porch—a picture of joy in the perfect home. It’s so uncomplicated, and at the same time so out of reach, it’s laughable.

“What was it you were saying about you and Vale?” she asks, never looking away from the page.

“Nothing,” I murmur, the guilt clawing at my throat. I can’t have her look at me the way she does when she talks about Dad.

Some people never change.

I shake my head, let my book fall open in my lap. “Nothing at all.”