Cupboard Love

C H A P T E R 23

WISH

RUEN

Amelia was outside, sitting on the blanket-covered grass near the gazebo. A small cooler with an empty beer can on top was beside her.

We already ate dinner and Tessa has left long after.

"What's the matter? You ok?" I plopped down beside her.

"Yeah? I—"

"Anything you tell me won't be featured in the morning news tomorrow, gossip rags, or any blogs 24/7 for the next five years." I made a zipping motion with my hand and waited for her to speak.

"Just five years?" She removed the empty can.

"I don't even know if we'd still be together and married after that." I poked her rib. "Three years at most maybe."

She took a deep breath.

"When I took my brother's place in marrying you, I always thought that I could get out of this marriage anytime I want." She looked at me seriously. "I mean we could always divorce years after."

That didn't surprise me. I have already known long before that our arrangement was deeply rooted in the alliance of our families and nothing short of an experiment for her.

She was just trying the lesbian diet to know what the fuss was all about. It never meant anything to her and she never intended to stay - not even when we're married and most definitely not when she's free.

"Ok. And?" I picked a pebble and pretended to examine it.

"Two days ago, hearing what your grandfather said, I don't think it would be possible." She pulled her knees up and tucked her chin. "We're stuck in this sham."

"Is that so bad?" I threw the pebble away.

Is the prospect of staying married to me so appalling, Amelia?

"No offense meant but I wanted a family, you know." She said as-a-matter-of-factly. "I want the house, kids, dogs, and white picket fence... the whole shebang."

"And a husband."

Not a dyke for a partner.

"Yes. A husband too."

I sighed and stretched my arms upward. "I used to want one too."

"You wanted a husband?" She incredulously asked me.

"Yeah, very funny! You should take a shot at comedy too." I swatted her arm and we both laughed. "I wanted a family, I—I dreamt of having one—just not the conventional one of course."

At my admission, we grew silent.

"Why did you give up on that dream?" She asked as she stared into the night sky.

"Cause that's all it'll ever be." I picked another pebble and put it in my hand. "A dream."

"Was it because of your grandfather? Our marriage?" She reached for the cooler and opened it.

"Partly. Yes."

"And?" She grabbed a can of beer and opened it. "Never found someone to share it with?" She took a swig from it.

"I found someone." I smiled into the night.

But sadly, she didn't feel the same way.

"Didn't work out?"

"I always knew it never will."

"So you never took the chance." She took another sip. "You chickened out."