This Marriage Shenanigan

We walked for a while, still hand in hand, my copy of our photo already resting at the back of my phone case, and almost unconsciously, I found my thumb stroking it, and I could almost feel the warmth of it traveling up my arm. 

We got to a really tall building—a tower maybe—and climbed all the way to the top. By the time we got to the very top, I was panting, sweat dripping down my chin, and Jackson didn't even break a sweat.

“We’re here,” he said softly as he wiped my face with a face towel, and just that small gesture, something so little he barely even knows the weight of what he has done, and I have the urge to cry. 

He has been doing that a lot since we started our travels: those little acts of care; buying food because he knows I wouldn't have eaten anything; pillows arranged the way he has seen me do it; heavy bags taken from my hands.

Just those sweet gestures that to him probably weren't a big deal, but to me, they meant the world. 

For as long as I can remember, all I had was me. No one has ever taken care of me; no one has ever thought to wipe the sweat from my face or carry heavy bags for me. For as long as I can damn well remember, Marshall and I have been roommates. Roommates who were related by blood, and that was the only thing we had in common.

When there was food at home, I ate. When there wasn't, I went out and found something to eat. When I had bills to pay, I took out a loan and worked my ass off to pay them off. When I fell sick, I was left alone to deal with my shit, not to die, and he wouldn't even notice if I did until the smell filled the house. 

So my whole damned life, I had no one but myself. I took care of myself, and no one has ever, ever done that for me. Not even Michael with all his fake love-bombing shit. 

I looked away quickly before he could see my eyes fill with tears, walking forward and acting like I was looking around. 

I cleared my throat. “So where’s… here?”

“The tallest building I could find,” he answered as he came to stand beside me, took my hand, and pulled me to the very edge, and my breath was completely taken away when I saw Prague in all of its beauty and charm. 

Colorful, bright buildings, and not the lifeless ones we had back in that stupid town. Different forms of entertainment that catch the eye and draw you in, even when you are at the top of a tall building. People who walked by with smiles on their faces, a light step to their footsteps, and in no hurry to go anywhere. People who didn't stop and stare at others. Who didn't point fingers at them and whisper shit. For reasons we all knew, that stuck with me more than Prague's beauty.

“I’m going to leave that town,” I said suddenly, my voice coming out too thick as I stared down at the city bustling with life. “I will graduate, I will pack up all my shits, and I will leave without looking back.”

Jackson moved, coming to stand behind me. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, resting his chin on the top of my head. 

“And where will I be in that dream of yours?”

“Probably packed along with all my other shit.”

“Hmm. That doesn't sound bad.”

“Will…” I hesitated. “Will you want to be there? With my other shits? With… with me?”

“Of course.”

“Even when this marriage is over, and we go our separate ways?”

“Sweetheart, there are no separate ways between us now. This marriage shenanigan is between those two. Whatever happens is between them. We are adults, Siri. We are not kids they can drag into their mess. So yes, even when this marriage is over, I want to be packed with your shits. I want to go anywhere you go.”

“A-and what about hockey?”

“Hockey goes wherever I go.”

“B-but what–”

“Hush, baby,” he whispered as he placed a kiss on the top of my head, his arms tightening around me, and my shoulders dropped. “Just… hush.”

I couldn't help it. I couldn't help the panic and fear that was clawing at me. He said it like it would be that easy. Like life would be anything but dramatic, when we knew she was a drama queen. Like we wouldn't–

“Let’s live in the now,” he said softly as he spun me to face him, his eyes bright and free of worry. “Let’s live in today, and let the future us deal with tomorrow's problems. For now, let’s just enjoy our date.” 

I raised a very slow eyebrow. “This is your idea of a date, Jackson? Standing at the top of a rooftop where we can barely hear ourselves over the howl of the wind?” I shook my head. “I’m disappointed, Jackson.”

He sighed like his world was ending. 

“You wound me, Siri.” 

He took my hand again, and even though this was the billionth time we were holding hands, warmth still spread all over my body. We reached the other side of the roof, and my mouth dropped open. 

It felt as though we’d stepped into a fancy, cozy fairytale restaurant, but this one had no chairs or table. Instead, a blanket, throw pillows, and a beanbag sat beneath a shade strung with tiny lights, casting a golden glow over our little haven. Containers held food and drinks, with snacks tempting my hungry eyes and a bottle of wine beckoning like a siren song. And it all overlooked the city, its vast beauty spread out below us.

Calling this perfect would be insulting to this beauty. And since I didn't know any other fancy words, I turned to Jackson, who just stood there staring at me, looking a bit nervous. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragged him down to me, and slammed my lips on his, kissing him as the only way I know how to convey how lovely this was. 

“Must be nice being rich, eh?” I said when I broke the kiss; my voice came out too thick when I meant it as a joke.

He shrugged, grinning. “It has its perks.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don't say.” 

“Shall we, my lady?” He pointed to our date. “Our evening just began.”