Grayson made breakfast, handing me a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage. We sat quietly at separate ends of the kitchen counter, both of us picking at our food. Finally I stood up, taking my plate to the sink and washing it. Grayson remained at the counter, blankly staring down at his uneaten breakfast.
Heading back to the bedroom, I packed up what little things I'd put in the drawers and closet. I gathered all my things from the bathroom, somewhat carelessly tossing them in my toiletries bag, then carelessly tossed that into my suitcase. All the while, I somehow avoided Grayson, who was doing his own packing up. I also got dressed, wearing a sweater and leggings since it would be cold when we landed in Vancouver and I didn't have a winter coat with me.
By ten thirty, we were ready to go, or at least, I hoped so. Neither of us communicated this verification. Instead, Grayson took the keys off the wall and walked outside, apparently hoping I would follow. I did, towing my suitcase and carry-on. I got in the passenger side of the Jeep, my hairline already sweating from my Canadian attire. The heat only got worse when we stepped out onto the tarmac, where the sun was practically cooking us alive.
Wordlessly, Grayson took my suitcase from me and gave it to the flight crew. I did not thank him, even though I was slightly grateful as I walked up the stairs. The air conditioning was nice, especially when Grayson got in and closed the door after him. I noticed he sat on the other side of the plane, taking out his earbuds and a book.
My form of entertainment was a nap. Folded up on the couch last night had left my spine a wreck, and while a luxury airplane didn't make a much better bed, I needed the rest. So I leaned back, looking out the window as I drifted off.
"Here," Grayson said gruffly right before I was totally asleep. Annoyed, I opened my eyes to see him holding out the folder. "You still need to sign."
"Oh." I took the pen and folder and scrawled my signature. This is what I should've done back in Las Vegas. It feels good to be legally away from him for the first time in six months. Satisfied, I handed it back. Was it the official end of us? Yes. But the end of us had been building for months now, ever since he'd supposedly fallen in love with me.
Grayson grunted out his thanks and I settled back into my chair. Closing my eyes, I fell asleep in a matter of minutes, this time without any disturbances.
"Jackie."
I jolted awake, a scowl already forming on my face. But Grayson was already halfway out the door. Apparently we'd landed. Still drowsy, I grabbed my bag and stumbled down the steps after him. It was snowing out, not heavily but the flakes coming down fast. Taking my bags, I rushed over to Grayson's car, which was exactly where we'd left it the day of the wedding. He was driving, so I got in the front seat.
As he worked his way through the city, I noticed his expression turn less stormy and more seasick. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "What's the plan?"
"We have to be fighting when we walk in," I said hardly. "Yelling, drama." Stuff we were already doing.
"Fine. How do we reveal the divorce?"
"You bring up the fact that we've been arguing the entire flight. I say I'm sick of it. You bring up divorce, I agree, you storm away," I said. Maybe the plan wasn't perfect, but I was sure I'd be able to get angry with Grayson just fine. Part of my heart ached; planning our silly, dramatic fight should've been fun. Now it was just a performance written onto the end of our actual fight.
His jaw tensed. "What are we fighting about?"
I almost laughed. It was ironic that we had to plan a fake fight. "I don't know."
"You could be mad that I didn't pay you attention on the trip," he suggested.
I shook my head. "She wouldn't believe you doing anything wrong. Or find it awful enough for divorce and pin it all on emotional me."
"Fine, then you spent the trip shopping at the resort and taking pictures and ignoring me," he countered.
It fit perfectly with Laura's theory of me marrying Grayson just for his money. "Okay," I said, turning to the window.
The rest of the ride was quiet, right up until Grayson drove through the gate and into the garage. Before I could pop my door, he stopped me, whispering, "Start yelling now. Everyone can hear anything in the garage."
I nodded curtly and opened the door, immediately shouting, "It's my honeymoon too! We don't have to do whatever you want all the time!"
"Excuse me, whatever I want? We didn't do ANYTHING I wanted!" Grayson fired back, quickly walking around the car and going outside to the front door.
"Of course we did! We had to do that stupid tour of the island!" I said in fake exasperation. "And gosh, the food! For one meal, couldn't you have picked something that smelled normal?"
"Typical American, can't handle anything outside of her own nationality," Grayson said, rolling his eyes enormously. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt; it used to be that him calling me American was sweet. Now I only heard how stupid I was in comparison to him, not a sign of endearment. Not that the sweetness from before had meant anything.
"Well I'm sorry if your breath stinks so bad I can't even sleep next to you," I shot.
"Yours would have been worse–except you didn't actually eat any of the things you posted," he returned, opening the door.
I scoffed, stomping and leaving snowy tracks on the floor. "Please! At least I'm not the one constantly begging for attention. 'Jackie, want to watch a movie? Jackie, want to go swimming? Jackie, want to eat some cake with me? Jackie, want to be together every second of the day without stepping two inches away?' My gosh, it's exhausting!"
"Maybe I actually wanted to spend time with my wife on my honeymoon!" Grayson snapped, standing nose to nose with me. I saw Laura sitting in the living room out of the corner of my eye, so I directed our little show that way.
"You couldn't give me two seconds away, or two seconds alone! I don't need you hovering over me and breathing down my neck all the time!" I yelled, marching straight into the living room, still holding my suitcase.
He followed, right on my heel. "You'd think that you'd want to spend time with me after saying we'll spend together forever, but no, that's ridiculous. You can't even say one word to me on the longest flight of our lives!"
That was the cue. "Rest of forever? No way," I scoffed. "I'm sick of your clinginess!"
"Well then maybe you should get rid of me!" Grayson said, his hazel eyes glinting with anger. He really meant that. He knew I was getting rid of him, that I wanted nothing to do with him. So I altered my lines as well, scowling up at him.
"You're a terrible partner and a terrible friend!" I hissed. "I won't stand for you treating me this way. I'm leaving!" By now Laura was standing, a stricken look on her face. Her perfect plan was shattering right before her eyes.
"Oh, you're leaving? Where are you going to go? Back to America, where you have no friends and no life? I should be the one leaving you!" he said.
I put my hands on my hips. "Do it then!"
"Fine!" Grayson stormed up the staircase. Right as he reached the top, I yelled, "I want a divorce!"
"Great! Sounds fantastic!" he shouted back, slamming the door to his room. "Can't wait to be rid of you, Langford!"
Ouch.
Swallowing back everything, both the real emotions and the fake ones, I slowly exhaled and turned to face Laura, whose jaw was nearly on the floor.
"Mrs. Answell, I am so sorry for disturbing your home like this," I said, my eyes wide and innocent. "But surely you can understand."
"Understand?" she asked, a flitter of confusion crossing her face.
I nodded. "I mean, the nerve of your son, insisting we spend our entire honeymoon together. I could never get away, you know. Every second he was asking to spend time with me, it was awful. I barely even spoke to my friends over the phone. He was so annoyed with me every time I asked him to wait to take a picture or make a post. I mean, who does he think he married?"
Laura's left eye twitched. Yay! "Jackie, are you truly divorcing him?"
"Of course. I'll have my lawyer write up the papers as soon as I land in Arlington," I said politely.
"Just like I predicted," she said, her tone matching mine. "You're just as crude and despicable as every girl who falls for him. You just want his money, and the second you have it you run away."
"Oh, I don't want his money," I said breezily. "I just really, really don't want to be married to him anymore. He can keep his money."
She looked like she didn't really believe me. "I find it surprising that you hardly lasted a week, Jackie, I took you for better than that."
"Are you calling me a coward?" I asked evenly.
"I am. You would do well to grow out of it," she replied, turning away. I knew that I should've expected her to bash my character, at least one more time, but it still stung. I paused, unsure of where I was going and what to do now that I'd enacted the plan.
"NOT SO FAST!"