The Marriage Sacrifice

“You are?”

“Yeah, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Including the pit bull?” she asked.

“Doesn’t he have a name? We keep calling him the pit bull and I don’t think it suits him.”

“I try not to name any of the animals that come here.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“It makes it so much harder to leave them.”

“I think we should call him Blue.”

“Blue?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking of a Tiger. He’s so strong and lovely.”

“Yeah, and saying it that way, you make him sound cute.”

“What else would you call him?” she asked. “Blue sounds so … depressing. Hi, I’m, Blue. I’m so miserable.” She deepened her voice and spoke slowly.

“It’s not like that. I’m thinking, ‘Hey, guys, I’m Blue. The best pit bull in all the world.’”

“You’re falling for him.”

“I am not.”

“I can see it now. The love you have for him. He’s a charmer. You’re going to want him forever and ever.”

“I wouldn’t push it that far. I like him. He’s a pretty decent dog, I’ll give him that.”

She watched as Dom stroked his head, and there was no way he was just seeing him as a dog. There was so much more to it than that.

“He’s so cute.”

“I know.”

She leaned in close. “You’re falling for him.”

“Stop it. I can’t take him anyway.”

“Why not?”

“I’m never home. I can’t take him to the office with me.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Your office is really big, and you could just warn people. He’d be a good guard dog for you.”

“I’d have to train him.”

“You’re considering it?” she asked.

“You’re really excited about this.”

“Dom, dogs like him rarely get a second chance. He’s scarred, which is proof he has been in fights. Some people don’t want to take home a dog that has been like this. It’s sad, but it is also true.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Making me care.” He sighed. “Let me think about it, and if I can figure something out, I’ll take him.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

She held out her pinky. “Now pinky swear.”

“We’re adults now.”

“So, come on, it’ll be fun. Haven’t you ever pinky sworn with anyone?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Then you can be my first and I’ll be your first.”

“You’ve never done it before?” he asked.

“You’d be my first. We can break our pinky swear virginity together.”

“Fine. Pinky swear I’ll take him.”

****

“I trust you with the peppers,” Sage said.

Dom popped the bottle of champagne pouring them both out a tall glass of the bubbly. He’d picked it up at the supermarket while Sage finished grabbing groceries. He took a quick taste and found it to be rather pleasant.

Sage had paid for everything, and part of him was grateful for that. His card was declined at the animal shelter. He paid a small donation, and after his wedding on Friday, before they went on their honeymoon, he was picking up Blue. He had settled on the name he picked for his dog. Of course, Sage was trying to dissuade him. Once his card was declined though, Sage hadn’t even asked any questions. She pulled out her bank card and made the payment without hesitation.

The harsh reality for him was, he needed to get married tomorrow. They had agreed to spend the night before the wedding together as their combined bachelor and bachelorette party.

He downed some of his drink as he thought about what the fuck he was going to do. If Johnson didn’t pull through, come Saturday, he was personally responsible for the downfall of his father’s company. He didn’t know what the fuck to do.

He relied solely on her father keeping his word.

“Are you okay? You seem a little distracted,” Sage said, moving toward him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine. Work stuff, you know.”

“If you need to talk about it, let me know.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got a handle on it. So, chopping these peppers.” He took a long drink of his champagne before grabbing a knife.

Sage told him what to do, to cut the flesh from the seeds and then to put each piece into strips. She had already boiled up the noodles they were going to be eating. Next, he got to work on the onion.

Once all the vegetables were prepared, which also included some baby sweetcorn and cabbage, he sat down, drinking, and watched her get to work, adding vegetables, soy sauce, and some other seasonings that he didn’t recognize.

She piled their food into bowls and handed one to him.

“Let’s take this into my sitting room.”

Each carrying a bowl and their champagne, they sat down.

He picked up his chopsticks and took a bite. The noodles were soft, and he slurped them up, and the vegetables were nice and crunchy. He ate with relish. In the past couple of weeks, he’d eaten more good food than an entire lifetime of restaurant food. Sure, the meals had been amazing and prepared for by five-star chefs.