Page 96 of Here's to Now

The ring on my left hand feels heavy. It’s as if a five-hundred-pound anvil is sitting directly on top of me, crushing me with its weight.

I’m married.

Legitimately.

I have no idea if I should be elated, unsure, or downright scared; each emotion is about equal right now.

It’s been just over ten hours since we said, “I do”, and nine since I started feeling this way. My new wife is sleeping peacefully beside me while I lie awake, the wheels in my head spinning frantically, grasping for some semblance of hope that this will all turn out okay in the end.

Will she regret this when she wakes? Will she beg for an annulment? Is this whatIreally want?

I have no answers.

Haley stirs beside me and I stop breathing, afraid any movement at all will wake her.

It doesn’t matter though. I know she’s awakebecauseshe stops breathing. Then suddenly, her breaths are stuttered, hesitant. She’s panicking.

I don’t blame her.

I can feel her begin to toy with her ring, trying with all her might to pull it off. Reaching over, I still her efforts, maneuvering her hand until I’m holding it in mine. I give it a reassuring squeeze, trying to calm her jitters. It takes a few moments, but eventually her breaths even out.

“Are we…”

“Yes,” I tell her.

“Legally?”

“Yes.”

“Are you freaking out?”

“Hell yes.”

She’s quiet, letting my words sink in. Fuck,I’mstill letting them sink in. I’m married. Holy hell. Part of me thinks I made a terrible mistake. Another part thinks I made the best decision ever, but there is a loud, obnoxious voice in my head telling me I’m a complete moron forlettingus get married the way we did. We shouldn’t have done it alone. We shouldn’t have hidden it. We already hide too much.Ihide too much.

Everything about this situation reeks of shame.

I’m tired of burying my decisions. I need to start taking pride in them.

“Gaige?”

“Haley?”

“I’m scared.”

I squeeze her hand again. “Me too.”

She rolls over, her pine green eyes dark and worried, searching for answers. “Do you think we messed up?”

I furrow my brow. “Fuck no. Do you?”

She swallows thickly, and I hold my breath, scared of her answer. “I don’t know.”

“I appreciate your honesty. At least we can say we started off our marriage with solid communication.”

Lie.

Her laugh is hollow, husky.

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