~Dedicated to GoodWitch96 for the beautiful covers above. Thank you so much for your help.

A knock at the door startled me, snatching me away from the world of fiction. I quickly straightened myself on the bed, closed my book and plastered a smile on my face. Zane poked his head into the room before coming in and then shut the door behind him. His dark coat was slung over his arm, which he carefully placed onto the recliner.

He started fiddling with the buttons on his wrist. Raising an eyebrow at the satchel that lay on the recliner, he cleared his throat. He would never say anything about the satchel to me. Later he might pick up the bag and hang it on the hook beside the door; all without breathing a word about it to me. 

"Hey, Sarah," he finally said. "How was your day?" It was almost eleven in the evening, and the events of the day were blurry in my mind.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes on my copy of Anne of Green Gables, a classic written in the 1900s. My dad used to read it to me when I was a kid. I found myself gravitating towards books I read as a child quite frequently during the past month, which was exactly how long Zane and I had been married for.

"It was good. We got our grades back for my creative writing course," I said, looking up at him. "I got an A on the short story I was writing last week."

A smile lit up Zane's face. "That's awesome. I'm happy for you. The story was very well-written." Allowing Zane to read my short story wasn't something that I planned on doing. I only let him read it because he asked to.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, dreading the awkward silence that would eventually fall between us after we had gotten past the pleasantries. "I made some pasta and I can warm it up for you." Pushing the blanket away from me, I moved to get up.

Zane waved a hand at me before taking a step back. "It's quite alright. A client treated me to dinner before I left his home. Thanks, though."

"Oh," I said stupidly, sitting back down onto the bed. Despite spending the past month with Zane, his formal speech and mannerisms still took me by surprise. "What did you have for dinner?" That was my inner cook speaking.

"His wife made chicken alfredo with baked vegetables. It was really good," he answered as he took a seat on the recliner, pushing my bag to the side and resting his wrists on his knees.

"Chicken Alfredo is my favorite. Though I would have paired it with garlic bread," I mused, more to myself than Zane. He chuckled but didn't say anything.

I climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over my chest. "I know it's late but there was something I wanted to talk to you about," he said, keeping his eyes on me.

It was late and I had an early class tomorrow. Zane waited patiently for me to respond. If I told him I was tired, he would be gone in a heartbeat, no questions asked. Zane always listened to what I had to say and made sure that I felt at home in his apartment. His mother passed away about a month ago. There was a heaviness that settled in my chest after her passing and I found myself crying silent tears at night. Some nights Zane would sit beside me, not saying a word, just being there. His presence was unfamiliar but I welcomed it during those nights.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"I wanted to talk with you about our trip to Ireland this summer," he continued. I sat up. The blanket slipped off me as I did. Zane squinted his eyes and then clasped his hands together in front of his lips. "This morning I was talking about it with my sister. Lory asked me if she could come with us."

I bit my lip. Zane had two half-siblings from his father's second marriage. Zane's father, Jimmy Hendrick, had divorced his first wife when Zane was 14 years old. Despite the divorce and moving out at 17, Zane had been close to both his parents. I only knew this because Zane's mother, Kat Hendrick, practically raised me. She would tell me stories of her son, a big-shot lawyer living in Toronto, who took on tough cases that no one was brave enough to take.

I shut my eyes at the memory of Kat. Never once did I think that I would become a character in that lawyer's story. "You don't like the idea," Zane said slowly.

Opening my eyes, I levelled my gaze at him. "No," I muttered. It was late and I was tired. Zane licked his lips, considering my response for a second before he spoke again.

"Please forgive my forwardness but may I ask why?" This was Zane, always apologizing, always saying and doing the right thing. He was so damn...righteous and whole-heartedly believed in truth, justice, and the American way.

"As much as I love your sister, I don't think it would be a good idea for her to come," I said, choosing my words with care. He nodded but stayed quiet.

"But why, though?" he asked again while cocking his head to the side.

"I just don't think it would be a good idea," I answered with a frown.

"Again, can I ask why?" he repeated. His response lit a small flame in my belly and I snapped.

"Zane, I don't think bringing your sister to our honeymoon would be a good idea!" I hadn't meant to refer to our trip as that. It just kind of slipped. Crap. A trip it definitely was but it sure as hell wasn't a romantic getaway. My best friend, Hannah, had been calling it that as soon as she found out about it. Perhaps she had gotten to me.

With both eyebrows raised, all Zane managed was an, "Oh." There were shock and confusion behind his eyes. "Crap. I didn't realize what the trip...meant to you," he whispered, his mouth in a frown. "I'm sorry."

Despite knowing so much about Zane, thanks to Kat, he still felt like a stranger to me. There was no doubt in my mind that he felt the same way about me. Our relationship would probably never go beyond curt smiles and small talk. It would forever be strained. The trip to Ireland was supposed to be a way for us to hopefully bond and find a common ground between us. The situation we were in was not ideal but we needed to make it work for the sake of the woman that we both loved.

This was a sacrifice I was willing to make for Kat, my sweet Kat, who would laugh at my jokes and read to me before bed. God. I missed her so much. It didn't help that Zane had her hazel eyes. Every time I would look at him, I would remember Kat smiling down at me. Warm memories of her were now overshadowed by images of her slumped in her bed, reaching out to me in pain. I would always remember watching helplessly as my friend, my babysitter, my everything, slowly lost herself to her sickness.

I let out a breath, trying to calm myself down. Kat used to tell me that I had a good head on my shoulders but a really bad temper. "Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong." I responded, shaking my head at him. 

"It's okay. I would like it if Lory came with us," I mumbled, looking up at him. Lory was a good kid. She enjoyed math and always had her nose in a book, like me. Perhaps she also wanted to visit the castles in Ireland which I had been dreaming about since I was small. "She's really sweet and I think it would be fun."

"We can talk about this later. We don't need to decide on anything yet." With that, he got up to leave. 

He picked up his coat and moved towards the door. Then he spun around slowly and squinted his eyes again. "I almost forgot to ask you. Some friends invited me to dinner in about two weeks. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me." The silence stretched on for miles between us. It was an eternal silence, one that I was afraid would swallow us whole. "They invited us to a Mexican restaurant," he added, which made my ears perk up.

I loved Mexican food. I was certain that Zane knew this.

"That would be okay," I answered, not acknowledging the fact that he had snuck in a bribe in his request.

"That sounds great," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Goodnight, Sarah." With that, he slipped out the door, closing it silently behind him. He would go to the spare bedroom, where he had been sleeping for the last month.

"Goodnight," I whispered to myself before turning off the lamp and slipping under the covers.