Page 11 of Reckless Chance
“Whew. That’s a relief.”
“No kidding. Last night could have been a disaster,” he says as he extracts a pile of papers from the envelope.
After a quick glance, he hands the stack to me, saying, “Oh, it’s the photos from our fake wedding last night.”
“The woman did say she would have them delivered this morning.” I chuckle as I thumb through the photos, amused at our inebriated expressions. After the last photo, there’s a stack of documents, which causes my smile to evaporate. Confusion takes over as I scan a bill from a jewelry store for $160,000 plus tax. I hand it to Sean, asking, “What’s this?”
He reads, “One woman’s ring with a four and a half carat, pear-shaped center diamond and baguettes on each side, totaling one and a half carats, set in platinum. $150,000.” He turns toward me. I frown, staring at the glimmering ring on my third finger, left hand. Without saying anything else, he continues, “One men’s platinum ring with basket weave design. $10,000.” We both look at his left hand, which is sporting the ring as described.
Eying my ring again, I ask, “Do you think it’s real? I remember them saying the ring was one hundred and fifty. I thought they meant dollars, not one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. There must be a mistake. If it’s real, there was a misunderstanding. We can return it. Let’s see what else is in the stack of papers. Look. Here’s a certificate congratulating us for being part of a world record attempt for the most wedding photos of different couples in one night.”
“You can keep that as a souvenir,” he says.
I laugh until I see the next document, pausing to read it. In shock, I read it again more carefully. “Take a look at this” I say, tossing it onto his lap. “How the hell did we get married?”
“What are you talking about?” he asks as he picks up the paper and reads, “State of Nevada Marriage Certificate. They took the fake wedding photos to an extreme. This looks almost real.”
Straining to reign in my panic, my voice is tight and my body shudders as I say, “Sean, I believe it’s real. Here’s a copy of our marriage license. All these documents indicate it was a real wedding.”
“No fucking way!”
“Yes fucking way!” I shout, losing my last thread of control. “Look at all the discounts they’ve included for newly married couples to take advantage of. You said it was a stunt for photos of couples to set a record—not a real wedding! This is all your fault.” I’m angry enough to cry, and I don’t cry in front of others.
“What do you mean it’s all my fault? You’re the one who wanted photos.”
“All I wanted was fun photos pretending to get married. Not a real wedding! Didn’t you read the papers you signed?”
“You’re the lawyer! Why didn’t you read them?” he retorts, a look of pure scorn on his face.
“It’s your hotel—your event. You should have known they were setting a record for real marriages. I trusted you.”
“Do you know how many thousands of events we have here every year? I don’t keep track of all of them. And I certainly didn’t marryyouon purpose,” he grumbles.
He didn’t want to marryme.I’m too stunned to respond at first. Why does it bother me that he made his declaration personal? I shake it off and softly admit,“I didn’t want to get married either. You better fix this. Now.” I rarely cry, but a single tear softly flows down my cheeks as my emotions rise and fall with each breath. I’ve never planned or wanted to marry. It’s still sad to know the only wedding I’ll likely ever have was fake. Even worse, it’s specificallymethat the groom didn’t want to marry.
I feel a warm arm wrap around my shoulders and pull me close. All the harshness is gone when he says, “Don’t cry, Lowri. It’s not a big deal. My lawyer will have the marriage annulled.”
More tears escape. “We slept together. We consummated the marriage. How can you have it annulled?” I ask.
He chuckles. “You’re not thinking clearly. We slept together a few months ago too. It doesn’t matter. We were drunk and didn’t realize we were getting married. That’s a legitimate reason for an annulment. It’ll be as if it never happened.” He grins, squeezing my arm.
“Great. What a cliché. I got drunk and got married in Las Vegas. We can probably buy T-shirts with that phrase in the gift shop,” I moan.
My heart aches. Then another horror dawns on me. “Cassie doesn’t know we hooked up when I was here before. She suspected there was chemistry between you and me. I sidestepped confirming it though. I don’t want her to know about my alcohol-induced wedding vows. This situation is extreme even for the party girl in me.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be sharing this. Evan would never let me live down a fake wedding that turned out to be real.”
“That’s a relief. Can you also do me a favor?”
“Depends. What do you need?”
“I know this isn’t a real marriage but promise you won’t sleep with anyone else before the annulment.”
“As long as you’re in my bed, why would I need anyone else?” he jokes.
“I’m serious. It’s important to me. I can’t handle cheating, even by a temporary husband. I’m sure the annulment will only take a week or two. Please do this for me.”
I don’t share that my dad cheated on my mom and eventually left my family for his secretary. I always swore I wouldn’t put myself in a position to trust someone as completely as my mom had trusted my dad. My solution was to never have a husband. I’ve blown that part now, but I won’t tolerate cheating.
