Forty Day Fiancé (Sassy in the City 3)

She had a very valid point. “I agree it is not ideal. Do you want to go get some lunch while we discuss this? I’m starving.” Unlike her, I actually had an appetite.

My attitude was we came out bold and brazen. Get married, stay in the US. Act like we’d been planning a wedding the whole damn time. Turn the engagement party into a surprise wedding. I thought she needed to be sitting down though before she heard my idea.

Maybe I was just used to getting what I wanted, but I felt confident we would be victorious in the end of this whole process.

Fifteen

The man wanted lunch. My whole life was crumbling around me and he needed a bloody sandwich?

“By all means, let’s get lunch,” I said and my voice sounded high-pitched and a bit insane. I felt insane.

It was all my own fault. I’d brought all of this on myself. I’d been careless and stupid and should have somehow worked all this out years ago. I should have hired a man on the dark web to be my husband. I could have been married and divorced and happily a permanent resident by now.

Michael suggested a restaurant across the street, and because I cared not one damn bit where he ate, I nodded. My stomach was in knots. I couldn’t eat if my life depended on it. I just wanted a glass of water. Fortunately, it was the kind of restaurant where there was enough of a hum no one else could overhear your conversation, but not so loud you had to shout.

“I guess I’m going back to London,” I said, after we ordered drinks. “I can sleep on Mum’s couch for a while. We’ll just wait for the fiancée visa.”

“That’s not our only option,” Michael said.

“It’s technically the only legal one.”

“The lawyer didn’t say it was illegal, did he? I don’t remember that specifically.” Michael scoured the menu. “The cowboy chili sounds good.”

The thought of beans and their texture made me want to throw up in my mouth, so I just stayed silent on his lunch ponderings. “We can’t get married before the expiration date. That’s just irresponsible.”

“And here I was thinking that we should go for it. We can tell all our friends and family the engagement party is actually a wedding. That’s a trend now, you know. Surprise weddings.”

“How the fucking hell do you know what is trending with weddings?” I demanded. “That’s absurd.” God, my stomach hurt. I rubbed it as discreetly as possible. I didn’t mean to have such attitude but I was stressed to the max. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a bitch.”

“Look what you could manage if you were trying,” he said with a grin.

Despite my anxiety, that did actually make me smile. “You should live in fear of that. But seriously, Michael, we can’t do that. It’s just too much pressure. It’s like driving off a cliff. We’re already living together and applying for this fiancée visa. I don’t think we should impulsively get married on top of it all.”

“Let’s just think about it before we make any final decisions.”

“Our engagement party is tomorrow!” I felt my throat tighten. The room momentarily went black and I saw stars. “Oh, Jesus,” I whispered, afraid to move my head.

“Are you okay?”

The blackness receded. I took some frantic breaths. “I thought I was going to pass out for a second. Everything went black.”

“Maybe we should skip seeing the apartments today. Maybe you should try to take a nap.”

For some reason, that made me angry. “I don’t want to take a nap. I want to see the damn apartments.”

His mouth opened. His mouth closed. Finally, he said, “Sure. Great.”

It was an indication of his maturity that he just let me act like a psychopath and didn’t react in anger. I was instantly mollified. “I should order some soup. Maybe it will settle my stomach.”

“Great idea. Maybe something clear, like a vegetable soup with a broth base.”

For a minute, we just sat there, him looking like he was debating calling the bomb squad to defuse me, me trying to process how and why I was utterly losing my shit.

Too much change in a short amount of time.

During which I had fallen in love.

I hadn’t been planning on falling in love.