“Is this about Hannah?” Shep asks.
“Of course it’s about Hannah,” D-Low says. “The question is why are you taking her rejection so hard now? You’ve been unsuccessfully chasing her for weeks.”
“It’s not…” I start. “She didn’t…” Except she did. “Can we just drop this?”
“No.” To my surprise it’s Shep that speaks. His concerned gaze meets mine. “We want to help, but we can’t do that if we don’t know what the hell happened.”
I’ve had all week to tell them. I can’t be sure why I haven’t. They probably won’t even be surprised I did something stupid like getting married in Vegas. I’m the guy they can count on to always be up for fun and hijinks. Need a wild, elaborate idea? Ask Travis. Looking for someone to go out and grab a drink or invite on a last-minute trip? I’m in. Want someone to lighten the mood, start the party? Me again.
The point is that an unplanned, drunken wedding isn’t out of character for me. And maybe that’s the real issue. I don’t want to be that guy. Not right now. Not in this scenario. I don’t want them to laugh and chalk it up as another one of my stupid stunts.
But keeping it to myself has led to the most miserable week of my life. So, I sigh.
“Hannah and I got married in Vegas.”
They stare at me, unblinking.
“Like…” Shep’s face twists with confusion. “Marriedmarried?”
“Is there another kind?” I ask the question slowly.
D-Low continues to look at me like I’m a complicated math equation he’s working out in his head.
“When?” Shep asks.
“Saturday night. After everyone else left the club. We closed the place down and then…” My words trail off. “It was spontaneous and dumb.”
And amazing.
“We got carried away in the moment. But when she woke up in my bed the next morning, she had a pretty major freak out. She ran out on me in Vegas, and if it weren’t for her living next door and wanting to divorce me so quickly, I don’t think I ever would have heard from her again.”
“Well, fuck.” D-Low tips back his beer to finish it off and sets it down on the coffee table with athunk. He immediately grabsanother. “I thought you two just hooked up and now she is being dodgy about it.”
“How does that work? Is a Vegas wedding even legit?” Shep asks.
“Very,” I tell him.
“But you’re getting it annulled?” This from D-Low.
“Yeah. The lawyer is drafting the paperwork.”
We fall quiet again.
It’s Shep who breaks the silence this time. “This might be a weird question, but are you two a thing now or…”
I shake my head. “I think marriage killed any chance at her wanting to date me.”
“I’ve heard marriage does that,” D-Low says with the first sign of a sympathetic smile.
I let out the deep, gut-wrenching groan I’ve been holding back all week. “Why did I have to fuck this up?”
I stand, pacing and running my hand through my hair. “Seriously. For once, why couldn’t I have been the responsible, levelheaded guy instead of…” I spare them the self-pitying adjectives that come to mind and fall back into my spot on the couch. It’s perfectly shaped to my ass from a week of moping. If I wasn’t at the rink, I was here. I’ve watched so much reality TV, I finally understand why people love it so much. I’m fully invested in the love triangles and drama. It’s messy and probably fake but it’s a thousand times better than thinking about my own life.
“It happens.” D-Low waves a hand dismissively like everyone he knows is doing it.
“Really? Who does it happen to?” I ask.
He opens his mouth, but before he can be a smart-ass, I add, “Besides me.”
