Page 4 of Til Divorce Do Us Start

“No way! We’re in Vegas!” Trish agrees, looping my arm as we both sway. “We need to dance and have fun! I only want to remember I’m married in the morning!”

I giggle and agree, letting the night sweep me up. The world becomes a blur of spinning lights, music pulsing through me, laughter, dancing, and just enough booze to keep everything hazy and warm. All I know is fun—reckless, glittering, Vegas fun. At some point, I catch a glimpse of Colin on the dance floor, flanked by two girls, his smile sharp and unfamiliar. It’s the last sight I remember before I wake up alone in my hotel room.

Whatever happened last night hardly matters. My friends got the exact wedding they wanted and I survived another meeting with Colin.

I pop some Advil in my mouth, down half a gallon of water and prepare to dive back into my normal, routine, easy life. One night of fun with no annoying consequences. Considering Colin’s involvement, that’s a miracle I’m not going to question.

Chapter 2 - Colin

Even once I get back home, even through the haze of too many shots and drinks – fed to us by Noelle herself – I still think of her. Weeks later, she’s still in my head. God, the dress framed every curve I memorized ten years ago. I thought I’d forgotten them. I thought I’d forgotten her – thought I’d purged her from my system.

She is impossible. Unbearably stubborn. And somehow, still the most addictive woman I’ve ever met.

And damn if being with her ... if standing next to her bathed in her honey and wildflower perfume didn’t bring it all back. Her green eyes still simmer, but now with fury instead of fire. And somehow, it looks good on her. Too good. It shouldn’t. She’s just a woman I left in the past. A beautiful, maddening mistake I swore I’d never make again.

Shaking my head, I get back to making phone calls and managing my business. My gardening company makes sense. Numbers make sense. Organizing yards, people, and everything else makes total sense. And it calms my nerves. I don’t have to deal with clients most days. I get to manage my own life, work independently, and keep a good healthy distance from complications.

When my phone rings in the middle of the day, I assume it’s another one of my customer service reps ready to forward yet another irate customer who’s just discovered that, yes, plants actually need daily watering in Arizona. But when I glance at the screen and seeAlexflashing across it, I blink. That’s unexpected. We don’t exactly do midday check-ins.

“So ... we have a problem,” he states.

My mind goes to Noelle. What did she do now? I close my eyes. “What problem could you have on your honeymoon?”

“We only took a week, so the honeymoon is over,” he answers. “But according to the law, we’re not married.”

I blink again, draw the phone back to look at it in confusion, then put it back to my ear. That doesn’t make sense. I was there. “Yes you are.”

“Actually ... You and Noelle are married,” Alex says.

He’s silent, not laughing, not building it up at all. No. There’s no way. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish,” he states.

“You have to be kidding because there is no way Noelle and I could be married. That would be hell itself!” I yell before catching my temper. “This better be a joke. Thishasto be a joke.”

“Maybe a cosmic one.”

I grit my teeth. It’s not possible. It’s not. We signed the paper as witnesses. There is no possible way. I let out a slew of curses. I don’t have the words. I’d rather have married a stripper by accident than Noelle! A fucking rabid racoon over Noelle! It would be easier to tame.

“We were all drunk. It happens, but um ... Trish reached out to try and get the marriage annulled or to start a divorce. That’s not going to happen. At least not anytime soon.”

“Why?” I demand sharply. “Did you tell the judge we hate each other? That it was an accident, that we were drunk?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he answers.

“Oh it fucking matters. Let the judge marry her! I’ll give him my name!” I yell.

“We live in Phoenix and Arizona has a ninety-day waiting period. So youmustbe legally married for a full three months before you can move forward with the divorce,” he sighs. “We can try going to court, bringing up the fact we were drunk, but that would involve a big-”

“WTF Alex! Please tell me you arekiddingme! Three months? Three entire months? Ninety days? You mean I’m actually... married. Toher.Forthree months.”

“Yeah, man. Three months.”

There’s a long, heavy silence.

Finally, I exhale, something inside me folding in. “Ok, let’s try not losing our minds. Fine. Ok. It’s three months, actually two and half now already,” I say quietly. “We’ll just keep it quiet. Live our normal lives. Then get it taken care of.”

“Well... the judge is going to want to see some effort,” Alex says slowly, like he’s bracing for impact. “Based on what he told me in chambers, he’ll be looking for signs you’retryingto make the relationship work.”

---