Page 24 of Til Divorce Do Us Start

Because she’s right.

I look at Noelle and she slowly looks at me. Trish lets the topic drop, but it swirls in my head even after she’s left. Noellestarts cleaning everything up which proves she’s just as aware of that unanswered question as I am. She always gets squirrely and focused on cleaning if she’s anxious.

“Noelle,” I call.

“We don’t have to make a choice. Ninety days is theearliestwe can divorce, it’s not theonlytime and-”

“Do we want to finalize our divorce at the court hearing that we have scheduled, or do you want to stay married and try this out?” I ask.

Her shoulders drop, a flicker of something crossing her face—nervousness maybe, or the weight of the question.

“You’re too direct, you know that?” she mutters. “You’d get more answers with a little sweetness.”

I offer a soft smile. “Should I get a ring?”

She turns to look at me, slowly, like she’s bracing herself. Her teeth catch her bottom lip, and for a moment, I think she’s going to backtrack. Tell me we should date first. Ease into it. Keep things casual.

But instead, she steps closer—close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off her—and lifts her hand, tracing her ring finger with a touch that’s both hesitant and deliberate.

“Do you... want to?” she asks softly.

There’s no sass in her tone now. Just the question beneath the question:Is this real for you, too? Or am I the only one afraid of wanting it?

“Yes,” I say blatantly. “We’ve lived together for two and a half months and gone from hating each other to being sweet and talking and doing the hard work. I don’t want to backslide. I want you. That hasn’t changed.”

She slips her hand into mine, eyes dancing. “Are yousure? You’re not going to run off in the middle of the night again? Leave me to come home to my stuff packed in boxes with a note that says ‘good luck’?”

I smirk. “Only if you’re not planning to change the locks and steal my lease out from under me.”

We’re throwing jabs, but they’re soft now—familiar. Comfortable. We’ve had our fights since I insisted she stay, sure. But we worked through them, every one. Usually ending in something that looked a lot like making up—and sounded like it too. We talk. We compromise. We’re...us.

We’re already married, thanks to one wild night and a couple of bad decisions. But maybe fate just got impatient. Maybe it saw something we weren’t ready to admit.

“I want to call you my wife because wechoseit,” I say, squeezing her hand. “Not because we signed the wrong line.”

Her smile softens, but the sparkle in her eyes stays sharp. “I think ‘husband’ would look good on you.”

She leans in slightly, lips barely curved. “Flaws and all. But you better keep doing the dishes.”

I laugh. “No promises”. I pull her close and kiss her. “Then we have an appointment to cancel and I have a ring to get.”

She kisses me ravenously, wrapping her arms around me and drowning us both in a word neither of us are ready to say. I love her. She loves me. But sometimes words just get in the way of a happy, accidental marriage.

Epilogue - Noelle

2 Years Later

I stand in a white mermaid dress with gauzy white off the shoulder sleeves in front of my husband. He’s traded his casual clothes for a tux and has never looked sexier. Then again, I could be biased.

“I promise that you will never think this marriage is accidental. I will let you wear your shoes inside and singwithyou when we cook together. But… I’ll never let you throw pasta at the wall again,” he lists.

I laugh softly and see the corner of his mouth lift.

He puts his note in his pocket and tugs me closer towards him. “And I will never let you wake up without a note, a kiss, or the promise I’m coming back to you. We’ve been doing something right for two years and I’m going to find new ways to show you exactly how much I love you, exactly how much you mean to me. You deserve it, Noelle. You’re special, bright, pure sunshine, and I wouldn’t be half the man I am without your encouragement, our conversations, and how stable you make me feel.”

My eyes water and I almost kiss him, but Trish clears her throat as to say“not yet”. She rubs her pregnant belly and Alex grins.

I lick my lips, nerves bubbling just beneath the surface. “I promise to tell you I love you—even when I’m mad, and especially when I think you’re being impossible. I promise to try not to rewrite the rules every five minutes, even if I still think I’m right most of the time.”

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