Delilah stands next to me, reading it over again. "Oh God, I remember what else you said."
"Do I even wanna know?"
"You asked if I wanted to sin with you in Sin City and then after we left the hotel, we walked to the chapel."
Oh fuck, she's right. I remember that now.
And then I told her to let me prove marriage wasn't a bad idea.
"Oh and here's the receipt." She picks it up from the floor and her brows raise as she scans over it. "Looks like you sprung for the deluxe package."
When she bursts out laughing, I'm taken off guard from the scowl she was just wearing.
"We picked out rings there..." She waves her left hand again, reading over the paper as she paces the room. "Pretty pricy ones too."
"Only the best for my wife."
Her smile drops, clearly not amused by me calling her that.
"Too bad we're returnin' them."
Before I have the chance to argue, she rushes to the bed and picks up her phone. "Wait, they gave us a link for the photos. I remember puttin' it in my notes app."
"Hold on. Go back. Why would we return the rings?"
"Um...because we're gettin' this annulled as soon as possible. I'm not keepin' a ring when we drunkenly got hitched."
I scratch along my jawline, trying to figure out how to slow her down and talk about this without freaking her out.
"Oh my God!" Her palm covers her mouth as she stares at her phone screen. "It should be illegal to allow people this drunk to get married."
Curious, I sit next to her and look. Sure enough, photo after photo of us posing with bloodshot eyes and dopey smiles. "Jesus Christ."
I can't help but laugh because it's clear as a cloudless sky we weren't in our right minds. But I don't remember feeling that drunk at the time. Those tequila shots must've caught up to me before I realized it.
"It's not like we didn't talk about marriage..." I begin, which by the look on her face, is a bad place to start. "Maybe we give it a shot before rushin' to get it annulled?"
"Are you outta your damn mind? You're still drunk, aren't you?" She looks more intently at me.
"No," I say offended. "We're datin', so it's not like?—"
"We've been datin' for like two minutes! Wilder, you cannot be serious." She pins me with a look of disbelief. "We can't jump from being friends to havin’ a few hot make-out sessions to then becomin’ husband and wife. That's...insanity!"
"Why not?"
"Why?" she deadpans, then holds up a finger. "We haven't even had sex. We don't live together. We haven't even gone on a real date—unless you wanna count walkin' me down the aisle," she says dryly, continuing to put up more fingers. "We already have targets on our backs at home, so?—"
"This'll give them somethin' else to talk about for a while." I shrug. "Who cares."
"I care, Wilder! Stayin' married when neither of us were ready in the first place is a recipe for disaster. Marriage isn’t supposed to be temporary."
"Agreed, it's forever."
"We're not ready for that level of commitment."
"I am," I blurt.
"Wilder, be serious."