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KRISTIE
I tugged on my apron strings to retie them, in tears as Chad continued yelling at me from outside the front windows. He waved his arms, pounded on the glass, and stepped back to kick a garbage can.
Chelsea, the manager, wrapped her arm around my shoulders and walked me back to the kitchen. Maybe if he couldn’t see me, he’d calm down. “What’s going on, kid? We can’t have this going on at the Grill. I know it’s not your fault, but at the same time, we need to make sure this type of thing doesn’t disrupt business.” She winced at the sound of sirens pulling up to the building. Sighing, she pasted a smile on her face and stared at me.
Someone had called the cops and now Chad was going to get arrested right there in the Grill parking lot.
I nodded. What else was I going to do with tears streaking my cheeks and my hands shaking. I finally swallowed. “Chelsea? I need to quit.”
Chelsea studied me, weighing my words and what was happening. After a moment, she nodded slowly. “I’ll get you a check sent out tomorrow for the remaining pay we owe you. I sure hope you get things figured out.” She patted my back and watched me turn and walk out the back door. The cops would probably take a statement from Chelsea. I knew Todd and Seth on duty. They could swing by my parents’ place, if they needed me.
I had to get out of there. Chad approaching me at the restaurant and shaking me in front of my customers had been embarrassing enough. When he’d accused me of stealing his stuff, I’d lost it – screaming at him and slapping him across the face. When I’d been able to calm down and step back from the scene I was involved in, I was mortified.
The threats he’d thrown at me hadn’t helped. Not that I thought they were real threats. Chad was lazy and more passive aggressive anything. He was all talk and he’d never hurt anyone not because he was nice, but because he didn’t want to get hurt.
Almost running across the back-parking lot, I instinctively searched out my bike. I’d parked my Honda in the back of the lot, behind a tree where no one would see it. I didn’t want Chad to know where I was. He knew where I worked, but he didn’t need to know where I’d parked the bike. Who knew what he would do to retaliate. He wouldn’t hurt me, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t key the bike or pour sugar in the gas tank.
The fact that he’d found me wasn’t surprising. The mailman knew if I wasn’t home, he could find me at the Grill. Thankfully, Chad had shown up when he did. I was starting to think that loneliness was worse than being with someone who cheated. No, I needed him to find me and to throw a fit to remind me that being with Chad was only bad news.
Halfway through my shift, I’d started to miss belonging with him. I didn’t want to go home. But the way he’d spoken to me, the food he’d picked up from a customer’s table and flung at me, the vitriol he’d slung at everyone inside had reminded me – no, branded in my mind and heart just what a loser he truly was.
I started up the motorcycle, refusing to cry or breakdown where I was still vulnerable. If they didn’t arrest him, he’d be looking for me.
My phone buzzed but I would wait until I got home. I didn’t want to talk to Tara right then, anyway. I’d just cry too hard. She would most likely have heard what had happened, what was still happening, from one of the girls inside. That had been YouTube worthy. And I was right in the middle of it.
The wind blew on my face, calming me down. I pulled into the driveway of my parents’ place, relieved to find the lights off.
Brent wasn’t home and my parents were still gone. Brent had mentioned them being on a cruise for another week, but he wasn’t the most reliable. He’d once told me a dinner was at six at a restaurant and it had ended up being at five at the house. He liked to keep me guessing.
I remembered Dad saying something about a cruise a while back, but I hadn’t paid attention to the dates. Sometimes pretending I was too busy kept their questions at bay.
I turned off the engine but stayed on the cushy seat. Pulling out my phone, I tugged the helmet off and pushed my long hair off my face as it fell from the confines of the helmet. I’d gathered my control enough that if Tara wanted me to come over, I could handle it.
A text message from a number I didn’t recognize declared, “You’ve been matched!”
The signature was from ClickandWed.com – the online marriage site.
I’d been matched for marriage.
Marriage.
I could move to wherever my husband was and get out of there. Already the man was my husband and I hadn’t even accepted yet.
Marrying him would be my answer to escape the trap of the small town.
The money I had been able to save up wasn’t much since Chad liked to spend everything that wasn’t his. The check wouldn’t be at my parents’ place for a few days. Getting married would be my ticket out of there and it would be viable. With the whole process, I could probably be out of Libby within the week.
No one could argue with me once I’d taken the steps to complete the contract. Was I really going to be a mail order type bride? Or was this an arranged marriage? I’d have to look up the definition when I had a chance. Was I really going to do this?
Tara probably didn’t believe I would do it. I needed her approval. What would she say? A little excited that she would tell me to jump right in, I texted her. “I got a match.”
“You got a MATCH! Like a marriage match? Just decline it. You’re not really going to get married.” I could almost hear her derision. Why wasn’t she excited for me? This was something new and I wouldn’t have to drag her along and ruin her life any further. Didn’t she see this was a good thing?
“I guess.” But why would I decline it? Tara was going to move on and get married and be all the awesome she was destined to be. I was a mess waiting to happen and I didn’t need to drag my best-friend down any further. My fingers flew over the screen for the last text. “Thanks! I’ll talk to you later. I’m going to bed. Lots of gossip, I’ll fill you in on tomorrow.”
“<3 What makes you think I don’t already know? ;P”
Of course, she knew – at least a huge chunk of what had happened. But Tara would play it cool until I was ready to fill her in.
I reopened the message from ClickandWed.com. “Install the app for easier access to information and more action steps!” I installed the app and then logged in, pulling up my match’s information.
If I clicked accept, I was contractually bound. There was nothing saying I had to go through with clicking accept, but there was something inside me that said I should. I should at least try. Wasn’t that why I had signed up? To see what my options were? And, of course, to screw Chad out of two grand.
My hand hovered over the accept button and I took a deep breath. This wasn’t a conventional proposal. This wasn’t a conventional way to find your husband.
But dang it, I wasn’t conventional and I was sick of pretending to be. I had already failed at dating, at school, at even being cheated on. I was turning into a failure and if this program had matched me, then maybe, just maybe, I could be a winner at something.
This guy wanted marriage, too, from the get-go. There was no hiding from the fact that commitment was necessary to be on this site. Maybe this guy... no... I didn’t let myself finish the thought that he was a crazy person or as desperate as I was feeling. I pushed the button... my husband could need me as much as I needed him.
Maybe I didn’t have to be lonely anymore.