Page 66 of The One I Need
Hazel slowly backs away and doesn’t say a thing. It’s a little bit scary.
“Hazel, blink twice if you’re alive.”
She does. She actually blinks about ten times. “I’m sorry. I think I misunderstood you. And I did have a few too many martinis last night, so I might be a little more hungover than I thought, but I could have sworn that you just said that you and Oliver got married last night?”
As if on cue, Oliver and Knox come walking back toward us. I couldn’t tell you what Knox has in his hand, because I can’t stop staring at Oliver’s haul of waters, snacks, and other drinks being held by his left hand, which is still sporting the wedding ring.
“Holy shit, you two got married!”
Oliver sits down next to me as Knox takes a seat on the other side of Hazel, who I think is trying not to faint.
“Yes, we did,” Oliver says. “We are an official Vegas cliché.”
“Wow,” Knox says. “How did it happen?”
“Tequila,” I answer. “That’s how it happened.”
“How many did you have?” Hazel asks. “Because for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been completely anti-marriage. You haven’t even dated anybody seriously. So by my calculations, that means you have had to have drunk at least a bottle of tequila for this to even be plausible.”
“Judging by my headache, that sounds about right.”
“How do you know you’re married?” Knox asks. “Maybe it was just some sort of show you were part of and it wasn’t real?”
Oliver shakes his head and tosses his phone to Knox. “The videos, photos, and marriage license seem to prove that point otherwise.”
Knox and Hazel start looking and scrolling through the phone. If it wasn’t me, I’d be laughing at their reactions.
“Dude, is that the rugby player Renn Brewer?”
“Yup,” Oliver says. “Apparently they were the ceremony after us.”
“I can’t believe this,” Knox continues. “I didn’t realize this could happen in real life. I thought it only happened in the movies.”
“Oh, it can,” I say. “And you can even get yourself an Elvis if you want.”
“No fucking way.” Knox starts scrolling faster, which leads to him getting slapped in the arm by his wife. “What? You gotta admit this shit is funny.”
Knox is right. This shit is funny. Part of me wants to laugh because of just how outrageous all of this is. Here I am, the woman completely against all things love and marriage, who goes to Vegas and ends up getting super drunk and being in her own worst nightmare.
“So what are you going to do?” Hazel asks as Knox gives Oliver his phone back. “Can you get it annulled?”
“We haven’t talked about it,” I say quickly. “We’ll figure something out.”
I look over to Oliver, who is returning my look with a sad smile. I hate that what I call my worst nightmare is his dream come true. Because if this were any other person, I’d have rebooked my flight, stayed in Vegas for another day, and figured out how the hell to end this sham of a marriage. I mean, there has to be a thirty-day return policy on drunken marriages, right?
But I saw the look in his eye this morning when he realized we were married. The man who has searched for love his whole life finally has a taste of it, even if it’s not real. When he first told me the story of him being adopted and always wanting to know what a traditional, nuclear family was like, my heart broke. Which is crazy because I didn’t think I had one. But apparently I do when it comes to Oliver. And in just a few months, this man has become one of the most important people in my life. I know I can’t be cynical or rude about this. I have to consider his feelings.
Which means letting this cool down and figuring it all out when we get back to Nashville.
“Now calling flight number 1240, Las Vegas to Nashville, now boarding.”
The four of us stand to start getting in line, Oliver and I a little more slowly than Knox and Hazel.
“You okay?” Oliver whispers, taking my hand in his as we walk to the boarding area. It’s at that moment I feel the metal of the ring on his hand. I look up at him and somehow he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“I know I should probably take it off,” he says with a sadness in his voice that once again puts a dent into my cold, dead heart.
“No. Keep it on.”
