Ophelia's now staring at her feet. Without looking up she says, "I'm just going to go flush my head down the toilet. If we could never speak of this again, I'd appreciate it."
Without another word, she leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind her. I stand there, unsure of what to do, but fairly confident it's going to be a long night with a host of inappropriate thoughts running through my head.
I can't even get a proper wank on because Ophelia's in the other room. Also, because this is all business, and if I were to wank off thinking about Ophelia and these mirrors and her slutty lingerie, this whole thing might not work.
It's got to stay business. No matter what my willy is thinking about.
Chapter 23: Ophelia
Did you know in Massachusetts there's a three-day waiting period from when you apply for a marriage license to when they'll mail it out to you? Then you have to wait for it to be delivered before you can get married. It's almost as if they want you to slow down and think about what you're about to do.
That's never how it is in the movies. They just run off to the courthouse. Real life can be such a buzzkill sometimes.
Lucky for me, there's also a waiver form, so you can get a marriage license issued the same day you apply for it. And if you call and tell the clerk a sob story about how your fiancé is getting traded, and he has to move and all that jazz and oh, he's a pro athlete, they're likely to grant you that waiver so you can get married right away.
And we'll be doing all that at 3:30 p.m. today.
Also, thanks to COVID, Boston City Hall only does marriages on Wednesdays and Thursdays. So here we are, getting ready to get married on a Thursday.
It's been just over a week since Xavier took the train up here and we agreed to get married. For real. I mean, this time we were both sober and decided to move forth with the plan. I guess I didn't have any idea of how much of a whirlwind this would be. If you'd have told me ten days ago during PenisGate that I'd be standing in front of my closet on Thursday morning, looking for something appropriate to get married in, I'd have called you nuts.
Also, if you'd told me that I'd be writing thousands of words a night, I'd have asked for some of what you are smoking. Apparently, all I needed was a muse, and that muse is my soon-to-be husband. Like seriously, being around him has totally restored my flow.
It's like a river when the levee breaks.
Over the past week or so, I've come to realize the following about the man I'm going to marry: he's the complete opposite of me. Mostly because he's a man of action, yet not impulsive. He has a goal and makes a plan and then works for it. He just does it quickly.
Soccer is a speed sport, after all.
In the past ten days, he's returned to Baltimore, talked to the coaches, talked to his agent, packed up most of his stuff, researched places to live down by Gillette Stadium, and returned back here late last night.
I'm pretty sure he's worked out every day too.
I'm more the type to get a passing thought and then act before I think it through. Like posting on ClikClak to help me find dates. I had to turn off notifications for good and block people from messaging me. I even went in and deleted that video, but it doesn't matter. It's out there in the world, and by the way, people are disgusting with what they will proposition you with over the internet.
I mean, I read some pretty smutty romance novels, but these things are downright crude. Plus, it's one thing to read it in a safe, totally made-up space. I'm a real person that other real people are saying these degrading things to.
If nothing else, marrying Xavier means I don't have to deal with that anymore.
We need to move on this quickly. Because let's face it, if I have too much more time to think about this, I won't go ahead with it. I either don’t look before I leap, or I think it to death. There's no middle ground for me.
Still in my pajamas, I walk out to the kitchen to find Xavier's back from his run. He didn't get here until about eleven last night, and it's only eight and he's already exercised. He's making a protein shake full of all sorts of green things I've never even heard of. I have a bowl of Golden Grahams for breakfast.
"So, I know you posted us last week, but should we make our 'relationship' social media official, seeing as how we're getting married today?" I use my fingers to bracket the word. "We don't have to post the marriage until later on, though."
He takes a sip of his health drink. "Probably. But you should also probably stop making air quotes around the word relationship. You don't want to get too comfortable with it and slip up."
I pull out my phone and open ClikClak. Without pausing to think or plan, I hit record.
Guys, huge updates since the last time I was here. And you did it! A roundabout way, but I'll have to put that in another video. But OMG, isn't he dreamy?
I step in front of Xavier, holding the phone out in front of me to get him into the frame. Xavier looks up, startled, hands still on my blender, which until this point has only ever been used to make margaritas. It's probably in as much shock from this development as I am.
So, let's just say this is not at all what I planned when I started with my hashtag surprise visit, but I'm so happy at where I've ended. You couldn't write this in a movie if you tried, right, honey?
A shy grin spreads over his face.
Well, here I am, living my own fairy tale. Thanks, ClikClak! Kisses and hugs!
