And Ian... where does he fit in this? I was his wife for a week. His wife. One of the reasons I always hated the idea of getting married is because I know what I am. I’m not a woman a guy marries because he thinks she’s the bee’s fucking knees. I’m the woman a rich guy marries because she’s also rich... and blond.
I always knew I would be nothing more than a trophy wife to some guy. A woman they can go to their buddies and say, “Not only do I fuck that, but got her to marry me too. Even if we get a divorce in two years, I’ll always have that!”
I don’t think Ian thinks of me that way. I think he genuinely loves me. But these are the poisonous thoughts always in my head whenever I think about marriage.
A lacy white handkerchief appears before me. I’m hesitant to take it, but I know Caroline will continue to stand there until I do something. Otherwise I risk her shoving it against my face. Probably laced with ether. So I can be absconded onto a plane and taken home, because I can’t take care of things myself.
“Chin up, dear,” she says, sitting next to me. I take the handkerchief and get my snot all over it. If she cares, she doesn’t flinch. “That was a heck of a lot easier than my divorce years ago.”
When that doesn’t cheer me up, she pats my shoulder and tucks some stray hairs from my twist back into place. I sniff, trying to stop the tears, but they still come. A little bit at a time. Too much for me to go back out there, but not enough to make it feel like it’s worth to stay in here.
“Why am I crying?” I finally ask. Caroline’s handkerchief is wrinkled in my hand, and wet. Really wet. “Shouldn’t I be happy that this is over with?”
“Honey,” she says softly. “It’s not like my son is out there throwing a bash either. You’ve both been through a lot this week.” Caroline places her hand over mine, unperturbed by her wet handkerchief. “Just because you know being married wasn’t right for you now, doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt when it’s over. Do you think I had the time of my life when my divorce was finalized? Hardly. I went home and got drunk and cried.”
That’s not surprising. Ian’s parents have been off and on again ever since they got married, let alone since they got divorced. They’re the perfect example of two people who need to embrace an open marriage but refuse to do it because deep down they’re too old fashioned. So one month Caroline is moving back in with Dominic, telling the press and everyone at the country club how wonderful he is, and then the next month she’s running off to Greece with some young stud she met working at the country club. Dominic isn’t much better. At this point I’m convinced he has women of various ages on standby for when Caroline gets cold feet and runs off somewhere to warm them back up.
They’re a mess. I don’t know how their son didn’t turn out to be a bigger mess.
“That’s different,” I tell her. “You were married for years. You had a son together. Why wouldn’t you be upset? I had an annulment. Nothing’s changed, other than our vacation was ruined.”
Caroline sighs. I can’t tell if she feels bad for me or thinks I’m as stupid as the judge does. “Kathryn, dear...” I wish she would stop saying shit like that. Making me feel younger and dumber here... “No matter what logic told you this week, you were still married to the man you love. Now it’s over. That’s going to make you face some heavy emotions. It will change the both of you forever.”
I look down at my promise ring, placed where it rightly belongs on my dominant hand instead of the left. “When I woke up the morning after... we had put our rings on the other hand. I don’t remember doing it. I don’t remember anything from that night after a certain point. But...”
Caroline wraps her arms around me and presses her cheek against mine. She smells like spicy, musky perfume and a bath of potpourri. “You know as well as anyone that when you’re intoxicated, all your barriers come down and you do things you would never otherwise do... even though you must have thought about it a thousand times. How many times have you thought about marrying my son?” Before I can answer, she continues, “How many times do you think he’s thought about marrying you? All that happened was that you lost your inhibitions and did what you really wanted. In your drunken state, you probably thought, ‘Gee, if we love each other and want to be together for a long time, we should get married. That’s what people in love do.’ Things aren’t logical. You know that if you and Ian got married for real, there are a lot of things you have to sort out first. Who will live where? Do you change your name? How do you protect your assets should something terrible happen later? Do you want to have a large ceremony that’s all over the papers, or do you elope with friends and family watching over Skype and FaceTime?”