Mrs. Matched | Complete

Chapter Thirty-Two

The medicine did its job, letting me sleep through the whole night. When I woke up, Chris was already up crashing around in the kitchen, as usual, but it took me a minute to figure out what was going on.

"Chris?" I called out. "Can I have some help?"

I pulled myself up in bed, ankle and knee screaming in pain as I moved them even the smallest amount. The deed to my house sat, glaring at me, on my side table, still holding onto the note from Chris: 'No matter what happens.'

"Chris? I need help!"

His head appeared in the doorway. "Sorry, I was packing up. We need to get you home to see a doctor, I think."

I didn't want to leave. No part of me wanted to leave, but I had to admit he was right. "Yeah, let's get me to a doctor. Sucky that we have to leave so soon, though. I'm not ready for it to be over."

"We had to go down eventually." There was a tension between us that wasn't there the day before.

"Did I do something?" I asked. What I really wanted to know was if my questions the night before were too much for him. But the courage that had bubbled up and boiled over the night before seemed to have evaporated right out of me in the night. So I just stared at him, holding my blanket like a teddy bear for comfort.

"I'm just... sad we have to go." He sat down on the edge of the bed, shoulders sagging forward and ruining his usually confident frame.

"We could always come back," I said, hopeful. "I mean, you still own this house, right?"

He nodded, turning to face me and pulling one of my hands into both of his. "I just don't know. Everything feels uncertain right now and that's weird, I guess. Maybe when this whole thing is over it will settle down a bit."

"Ugh. And I have to go tell my parents they don't suck."

I said that out loud, didn't I? Chris ignored it, so maybe I didn't. "These tasks have been intense. It'll be nice in a way to get back to work and everything, you know?"

"Look, about the house--"

"Aubrey, please allow me to give it to you. There are so many other things you should have had and didn't. At least let me give you this."

"Things I should have had?"

He shook his head. "A proposal. A wedding... A choice."

"Where is this coming from?" I finally come to terms with everything and accept it and Chris falls off the deep end? What kind of luck do I have?

"But I have a choice now." I tried to slide closer to him on the bed but accidentally used my ankle for support, sending a pain shooting up my leg and straight to my face.

"Are you okay?" Chris leapt into action, offering me a pillow and some pain medicine.

"Yes. Just pushed on it because I forgot. I do that a lot. Forgetting I have an injury and then doing something that makes it worse. Really need to learn to stop that one." I could feel myself babbling but desperately wanted things back to how they had been only the night before. Ruining the moment, party of one.

"We really do need to get that checked." He shook his head at me. "You did tell me you were accident prone."

"Believe me now?"

"I believed you before, but now I see the extent of the potential damage."

"Your wife is very talented. Just not in a talent anyone actually wants. Can you help me get up? I want some breakfast and one last look out that glorious window wall before we leave."

By the time we left the cabin, Chris was his usual self and I chalked the whole morning up to my awkwardness the night before. It was nice to feel normal on the drive back. I'm not sure I could have taken the cold shoulder from my husband in addition to my foot throbbing and screaming in pain.

Maybe he was just as upset as I was about having to leave.

So when we got to the house, I graciously accepted his offer to help get me onto the couch and then enjoyed some tea while I called to make a doctor's appointment. I managed all of that and Chris still wasn't finished unpacking the car. Somehow the pile he was creating at the edge of the living room seemed even larger than the pile we took with us. Which was impossible, because we'd been gone less than a weekend.

Finally, he brought in the last of my things, a small folder, and an envelope I knew to contain the letters we had written each other.

"We should probably make copies of those to send to Match Made," I pointed out. "I want to keep the originals."

There was an almost imperceptible pause while he contemplated the idea or figured out what I was talking about. "I'll run over to work and do it while you see a doctor. Deal?"

I nodded. "Let's watch something together first. Then we can grab a late lunch on the way."

He agreed, settling in beside me on the couch and handing me the remote. I pushed it back and resettled myself so my head was resting on his shoulder. "You pick today."

He stiffened and then relaxed into me, laying his cheek on the top of my head and flipping through the channel options on the television.

He paused temporarily on the cooking channel. The program was one we'd never watched together because I hated it and he always let me pick. He thought for a second and then kept scrolling, settling on some type of reality program where people had to compete in a relay race.

"I'm glad they picked you, Christopher. My mom was right not to let you pass by."

His answer was a small kiss on the top of my head. "I'm glad you feel that way."

"I do." I turned my head up to face him. I do. Ironic. His face was too close not to kiss and I gently pressed my lips to his cheek, waiting to see what he would do next.

"I do love you, Aubrey. Everything about this notwithstanding, I would do this all over again if it meant I got to marry you."

"Good." Because I'm kissing you again. This time, he turned into me and our lips met in a brief kiss that somehow contained everything I needed to know.