Fake It All the Way

Chapter 4 - Memories of a Nonexistent Marriage

Chapter 4

"HERE are the pictures from our wedding," I told Maxwell as I sat down on the squeaky hospital bed. Maxwell smelled like he was dearly in need of a shower. His scent was a mix of Betadine, apple juice, and unwashed masculine musk. I tried to keep my distance, but apparently, Max was of the opinion that as his wife, his body, and all its gross byproducts were beautiful to me.

He pointed to one of me wearing a hippie wedding dress in cream with a giant rose sewed on my ass.

"That was the only thing I could find at the gift shop at the Cosmo," I explained with a nervous laugh. "The wedding was a spur-of-the-moment thing. You said you would tell your family and friends when you were ready."

"I must have been serious about it if I told my sister Liliane and her mother about it," Max said, scratching his neck as though he were trying to massage the memory back into his brain. I thought it was cute; he referred to Liliane as his sister and not as his half-sister. Clearly, he maintained no delusions about Dr. Alexeev being his mother, even though she was married to his father at one point.

"They played 'The Time to Remember,' by Billy Joel as I walked down the aisle, to the Elvis Impersonator who married us. Don't you remember that?"

Maxwell laughed.

"Yeah, that sounds like something I would do. I always loved that song. Tell me more. Were your parents there? Did they approve of me?"

"My parents weren't there; we talked to them over Skype when the ceremony was over — after we pounded back a couple of Dirty Martinis at the Bellagio bar."

Maxwell nodded and puffed up his substantial chest with pride. "How many did I have? I hope I put away three at least before talking to the in-laws."

"Oh, I had so many, I didn't remember. I just remembered waking up next to you the next morning in our hotel room, thinking that I had married a male gigolo. Judging by the flashy way you were dressed, I was sure you were a European Taxi driver. Then, the valet brought over your Ferrari, and I realized that you weren't just another dude at the sports bar."

"Ferrari?" Maxwell asked and rubbed his forehead. I bit my lip as I realized I had taken too many liberties with my imagination. "I don't own a Ferrari. It must have belonged to Bobby. Was he at the wedding?"

"I don't think so," I muttered and put my phone with the fake wedding photos away. If I said that Bobby was at the wedding and then Bobby happens to show up and deny it, that would lead to a whole host of other problems. "I drank so much I barely remember who came."

Luckily, Max was so high on all the pain meds the doctors had him on that his eyelids were fluttering closed. I didn't know why, but I was almost disappointed that he was falling asleep. The minutes had flown by. I had spent so much time writing my research papers, putting together lectures, and sequencing DNA from the hair follicles of endangered gorillas I've almost forgotten what it's like to talk to a human.

"I'm going to let you rest," I whispered to him as I pulled my hand out of his. He had intertwined his fingers with mine, and I didn't completely hate the sensation. "Tomorrow, we'll talk about Bobby and why you want to give him your company. Okay?"

He nodded without opening his eyes.

"Kiss me before you go."

I flinched. Oh great, now I have to kiss his unwashed mouth? Maxwell puckered his lips just a little. He looked like a perturbed angel with his furrowed brows and beautiful, sensual mouth. I held my nose and decided to kiss him. His eyes were closed anyway. He was so high on painkillers wouldn't know if I kissed him or placed a wet tissue in his mouth.

I leaned in, closed my eyes firmly shut, and planted one on his lips. His lips were soft and gentle, though his unshaven cheek was surprisingly prickly.

He caught my hand as I took a step back. I saw him lick his lips, where I had kissed him.

"Once this cast comes off, I'm going to devour every inch of you, sweetheart."

I chuckled. "Well, that gives me a four to eight-week head start to grope you, doesn't it?"

"Come back first thing in the morning, okay?" He asked with a hint of an amused smile on his lips. "I hate it here with all these goddamn white coats probing me. I feel less confused when you're here."

"I will," I promised. "Goodnight . . . my dear."