Love Unrehearsed

He groaned. “Doesn’t she have anything better to do? I’ll eat when I’m hungry. I’m still full from last night.”

I was just about to give him a comeback when his cell rang. It was sitting on a towel next to an opened bottle of Gatorade.

“Grab that, would ya? Who is it?”

I crouched down and picked it up, tilting the screen so I could see it in the bright sun. “Your lawyer, Len Bainbridge.”

“Answer it. My hands are too greasy.”

I tapped the screen and said, “Hi, Mr. Bainbridge, it’s Taryn Mitchell.”

“Oh hello, Taryn,” he said jovially. “How are you?”

After a few pleasantries, he asked for Ryan.

Ryan’s legs were still sticking out from underneath his car and he’d already given his instruction. “I’m sorry. He’s indisposed at the moment. He’s asked if I can take a message for him.”

Ryan cocked an eyebrow at my formalness.

“Yes, please tell him that my office is emailing the settlement documents with Brown and Sullivan PR.

He needs to review them and if all is acceptable, we will proceed with the disbursement.”

“Okay, great. I’ll let him know.”

“Thanks. Oh, yes, one moment. Thanks, Miriam. Yes, I almost forgot, Miriam is sending the requested prenuptial agreement template for his review. He’ll need to mark it accordingly as to what your wishes are in the event of dissolution of marriage. It’s all quite self-explanatory. He, of course, should call me if he has any questions.”

My brain seized up at the word prenup.

“Taryn, are you still there?”

I think I formed a spit bubble first, which caused an involuntary reaction to choke.

At the second calling of my name, I managed a nod. “I’ll tell him,” I rasped.

Ryan rolled out from underneath his car, wiping his hands off on an old rag. He looked up at me, squinting one eye at the bright sun. “What did he have to say?”

Did you ever have that warm rush feeling—the kind that hits you right before you either freak out, pass out, or throw up? Yeah, I was there.

“I don’t want your money, Ryan,” I managed to say, even though I felt numb and disco

“Not one cent,” I sort of choked out through the lump in my throat. “I’m capable of earning my own way and if we bring babies into this world I’d expect you to help me raise them right and healthy, but I’ll keep the apartment should you ever decide you need dissolution and I need a place to live. I guess that stuff will just be a given in the divorce proceedings anyway but I would never touch your money or demand a piece of it because you earned that money. I would never do that to you. You’re building the house on your property—it’s not mine nor will it ever be. I need you to know that. I would never take it from you.” I didn’t realize I was tearing up until he went blurry.

Ryan stood quickly. “Babe, you’re freaking me the fuck out. What the hell are you talking about?”

My arm moved, holding out his phone. I should have been angry, but I wasn’t for some reason. I was more desperate and wounded than anything. “Your lawyer is emailing you the prenup agreement you requested. I want you to know I’ll sign it. It’s only right. You should have peace of mind.”

Ryan looked like I’d just punched him. “Whoa, whoa. Hold up. What prenup? I didn’t ask for a prenup.”

I shook the phone in my hand, making a point. “He says different.”

Ryan ducked down, making sure he had my eyes. “Taryn, honey, I swear to God I did not ask him to write up a prenup. I swear. I am just as blindsided by this as you are. But I will get to the bottom of it, you can be damn sure of that. Give me my phone. I’m calling him right now.”

Just as I was ready to hand it over, thankful that he didn’t think I was going to empty his pockets or even imagine me being that greedy that I’d do such a thing, I pulled my hand back.

“Wait.” I wiped the hurt from my cheek. “Before you do that we should talk about it. I know that there are no guarantees that people stay together for life, but I want it written down that I don’t want your money. You help me pay for your children’s’ care, should we have any, and that’s it. I don’t need alimony or any of that because I’ve gotten spoiled or feel entitled that you owe me or something.”

Ryan took my arm firmly in his hand. “Hey, hey, stop. Stop this—right now.”

Once the floodgates had opened, I couldn’t. “No, we need to discuss this! You have a lot of money, Ryan. I didn’t work hard to earn that; you did. That’s yours—all of it. I don’t expect you to fork over gobs of cash I didn’t earn because we didn’t last like we’d hoped. And then there’s the property you bought and stuff. That’s all yours, too. Just because it’s next to my family’s cabin doesn’t mean I’m entitled—”

“Stop!” he ordered, loud and firm. “I am not talking about this.”

I don’t know why that frustrated me, but it did. “We need to,” I insisted.

“No, we don’t.” Ryan frowned at me, tugging my arm slightly. “You want to give me peace of mind, then stop talking about this shit right now.”

“We’re going to need to talk about it eventually. You know that as well as I do. There’s too much at stake . . .”

He glared down at me. “Let me ask you something. Did Dan and Je

“Ryan, that’s—”

He raised his voice over mine. “Your parents have a prenup, Tar? Yes or no?”

“I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t, but still, that’s not the point.”

He held up a halting hand. “You think my mom and dad in there have a fucking prenup?”

I just stared at him, avoiding having to answer.

“I can tell you they don’t,” he said. “And I sure as hell didn’t ask my lawyer to draft one up, either.”

He started jabbing his finger on his touchscreen phone.

Ryan was breathing heavy while being placed on hold. “When he gets out of his meeting, you tell him I want to know who the hell told him to write a prenup on my behalf.” He hung up abruptly, without even saying goodbye.

Ryan stormed off toward the kitchen door and I had no choice but to follow.

“Ryan? What’s wrong? You look mad,” Ellen questioned when he used the kitchen sink.

“I’m not mad, Mom. I’m pissed.”

Ellen quickly looked at me, trying to ascertain if I had caused his anger.

“What’s going on?” she continued to pry.

“You have a prenup with Dad?” he asked with a definite growl.

I saw the confusion blanket her face. “No.”

Ryan glanced over his shoulder, casting me his see, I told ya look.

Ellen was smarter than I gave her credit for. She held up her hands, backing up and out of the conversation as if there were a ticking time bomb sitting on her kitchen floor.

“Ryan, things were different for them. Our parents didn’t have the amount of money that you do and —”

Even though his back was turned to me, the hand that shot out, slicing the air in my direction, was a definite cease-and-desist order. I stood there in silence, watching him hunch, his arms pressing into the stainless steel rim of the sink as if he were pressing his emotions back together.

“Time and time again, we keep coming back to the same spot,” he muttered at the sink. “I know there are no guarantees”—he turned to face me—“but the reason why neither of our parents had a prenuptial agreement was because they didn’t start out in their marriage by preparing for it to end.”

I pulled a chair out at the large oval dining table, feeling the need to anchor myself. He said the words that were in the back of my mind. “I know.”

“You want us to start out that way? You want some paper that says if I fuck around or if I don’t sit down and talk shit out and work through our problems that you’d get a few million tossed at you?”