Page 104 of A Match Made in Vegas

Doubt fills my sister's eyes.

"She's the one who proposed," I say. "She got on one knee."

She doesn't say anything, but her expression stays apprehensive.

"See." I pull out my cell phone to show her the picture.

Cassie studies the screen carefully. "You look happy."

"I was."

"How much did you have to drink?" she asks with a careful voice. The practiced mix of caution and direct inquiry that comes with life tethered to a man in recovery.

I used to think he was an anchor around her neck. Even when I started to like him, to become friends.

That's too much chaos. It can undo her.

But the love she has for him holds her together in a way nothing else would.

I didn't understand that. I do now.

"Enough," I answer with the same caution. "But that wasn't it. It was something else." I felt a pull to be with her.

It wasn't the sort of pull people sing about or the kind of thing I see in the movies.

It was something deeper, truer.

A desire to tie myself to her. Not as an owner or as a belonging. As family.

Cassie will always be my sister. I'll always be her brother. My parents will always be my parents. But outside of my immediate family, I don't have any close connections.

I have friends. I have exes. I have coworkers. I have a job with a contract.

But I don't have a partner, an other half, a passion.

I don't have anyone who calls to say they missed me.

I don't have anyone who asks anything of me.

Only the bank, demanding a mortgage payment for thirty years.

I thought that was freedom. It is, in a certain way, but it's a cage too.

But then—

"If Daphne really doesn't remember, she was too inebriated to sign a contract. We can get an annulment." I click into lawyer mode. The facts. The logic. Of course, a quickie Vegas wedding, after a night of partying, is an easy annulment. Of course, that's the rational decision.

Cassie is a smart, logical person, but she's an artist too. She looks at me with concern. She looks at me like I'm a song she's struggling to write. She's not sure if it's a sad song or a happy one. If this is a tragedy or a fun memory. "Is that what you want?"

The answer should be obvious. I'm not an artist. I'm not a romantic.

I do what makes sense.

My entire life, I've done what makes sense.

Why would I want to continue a hasty elopement?

It feels right.

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