We nod. Of course.
“Gather any evidence that you can that you were intoxicated last night. We want pictures of you two so drunk you’re throwing up on camera. Get witnesses. We’ll investigate this supposed chapel. We might be able to take them out as collateral, since if you were that intoxicated there is no way they should have let you get married.”
Still nodding.
“Most importantly,” Miguel continues, looking between the two of us. “You are not a romantic couple until this is over.”
I’m not nodding anymore.
“Huh?”
“You want a fast annulment? Then this is our professional advice. Get separate rooms. Get mediators. No dates. No fun. You two can be as lovey-dovey as you want when this is all over. Until then, you are cordially falling out.”
I look at Kathryn, the same panic bubbling in her throat. “We’re serious... we just don’t want to be married.”
“The judge will want to see you two separated. Start by one of you getting a different room. Seriously.”
I pat Kathryn’s knee. “It’ll be fine, Katie. How long could this take with our money? We’ll go somewhere else for vacation after this is over.”
Clarence interrupts. “Even with your money greasing the local wheels, it will be at least a week before we can get you a hearing.”
“See? A week. That’s not so bad.” I kiss her cheek. I taste something salty there. “We fucked up, babe. It’ll be okay. I’ll make it up to you.” I am good at bullshitting. Never let it be said otherwise.
Sighing, Clarence flips his folder shut and shakes his head. “I don’t even know what to say. You two are something else.”
Kathryn hiccups. I hand her a glass of water. She downs it in two seconds before putting it back down. “We’re married until then...”
“Yes, but when the annulment goes through, it will be like it never happened.”
She shakes her head, those golden tresses I love so much shaking on her shoulders. “I’m so embarrassed...”
She breaks down in front of our lawyers. I never anticipated her crying over this... like this. What can I do? She’s my girlfriend, and I love her. I have to embrace her. I have to wrap her in my arms and make her believe that everything is going to be okay, even though we fucked the hell up and will be paying for it—quite literally.
I coo in her ear and smooth her hair with my hand. She’s still crying and hiding her shame from our lawyers, who can only shake their heads and grumble about calling wives.
Meanwhile, my wife needs me more than ever, and I’m about to go downstairs, get my own room, and pretend Kathryn means nothing more than pleasant conversation to me. Oh, fuck it. As soon as the lawyers leave and I get my room, I’m holding her until she pushes me away. They can’t make me not love her until at least tomorrow. Nothing is being done—legally—tonight.
Which means I’ll go ahead and see her as my wife until further notice. As it turns out, I have a romantic streak in me that I didn’t even know existed. The way we got married may not be sweet and romantic, but I will take my moments to call myself her husband while I have them. Just to myself. I dare not say them out loud.
* * *
I’ve been in my new room for five minutes and I already hate it. I don’t feel like I’m on a romantic getaway to Sin City with my girlfriend anymore. Because I’m not. I’m sitting in my shameful hotel room feeling bad about myself and wanting Kathryn. Who is right across the hall from me, in some sick twist of fate.
We slept together last night. Watched some movies. Tried making out and making love, but our lawyers’ final warning entered our ears. “You two haven’t consummated the marriage? Don’t! That will help!” To think I can’t even fuck my own wife...
I don’t think she wants to see me right now anyway. We’re also not texting or phoning one another. Why, when we can use our silence since yesterday as proof that we want an annulment? That we don’t love each other? That a marriage was a terrible mistake?
It’s a weekday morning and I’m already drinking. Not a lot, mind you. I made myself a drink from the complimentary bar and plan to keep it at one for now. You don’t know how much I want her, though. Not just for sex, although that would make me feel loads better, of course. I want to hold her. Feel her breathing in my arms. Something I’ve taken so much for granted these past few months. This is even worse than when we go on trips without the other person for long periods of time. At least then we have actual distance. Now? She’s across the damned hall and I’m going crazy!