I immediately hear an intruding man’s voice. “Ah, there’s the wife. Mazel Tov,” the strange voice rings out before I hear a deep chuckle.
I snap my head around and see Tanner’s smiling face on Daylen’s laptop. His grin widens when our eyes meet. “Where are you kids going on your honeymoon?” he asks and then starts laughing hysterically.
“Cut it out, Tanner,” Daylen snaps. “This isn’t fucking funny. It’s the least funny thing that’s ever happened in the history of the world. It’s a catastrophe of epic proportions.”
Tanner doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at the situation. “Oh relax. This kind of shit happens in Vegas every day. We’ll get it taken care of. I’ll let you two kids talk. The courts out there will be open in ten minutes. I’ll call you back after I’ve made the necessary calls and set things in motion. Sit tight and figure out how you’re going to break it to the kids,” he jokes.
He starts laughing again, but Daylen snaps the laptop closed, cutting off the offending noise. He inhales and then exhales a long breath. “He’s going to look into how quickly we can get this annulled. He said it shouldn’t be a problem. It’s slightly discretionary from judge to judge, but, like he said, people get annulments after drunken nights in Vegas all the time.”
A shaking hand moves to my mouth as reality sets in. “So it’s true? We really got married?” I start pacing as I rub the spot between my eyebrows. “Oh shit, Daylen. How did this happen? Fuck, why is last night so spotty? It’s like a puzzle and I can’t figure out where all the pieces go, even though I can see them each individually.”
He nods. “I know. For me too. I don’t remember shit except an Indian Elvis whose real name is Pinky who also gave us pizza for some unknown reason.”
Right. Elvis/Pinky. I remember him. “Are you sure we really got married?” I ask hopefully. “Maybe it wasn’t legal. Maybe Pinky is a fraud who just wanted our money.”
He shakes his head as he hands me a piece of paper. It’s a wedding certificate. “Tanner and I already looked into the place. It’s legit. We’re fucking married.”
My eyes fill with tears. “This is nuts.” I start hyperventilatingas tears begin to stream down my face. I croak out, “I hate you. I don’t want you to be my husband.”
He runs his fingers through his hair. “That’s one thing we can agree on.” He approaches me and wipes the tears from my face. “Don’t cry. You know I hate it when women cry. Tanner will take care of it. I promise. This will be a distant memory in no time. Only you, me, Tanner…and Pinky will ever know about it.”
As if just noticing something, he gently tugs down the neck of my hoodie and sucks in a breath as his face fills with horror. “Did I do this to you?”
I nod, and he stumbles back until he falls into a seated position on the bed. His eyes well with tears as he looks up at me with a genuinely devastated look on his face. “I’m…I’m so sorry. I don’t remember. Does…does it hurt? I would never knowingly hurt you.”
I shake my head. “No, it doesn’t hurt at all.” Maybe it’s a little sore, a lot sore, but it doesn’t hurt, and I don’t want him to feel bad about something I wanted.
He visibly gulps as he begins to fidget nervously. “Did I force?—”
“No,” I immediately interrupt as I shake my head emphatically. He thinks he forced himself on me, or at least did something to me while I was in no condition to consent. As much as I can’t stand him at times, and as much of a nightmare as this marriage is, I was with it enough by the time we got to the room to consent. In fact, I was more with it than he was.
Sitting next to him, I take his hand in mine and look into his blue eyes, currently filled with fear and uncertainty. “Daylen, I’m still piecing together everything that happened from the last hour or so at the club to the time we got back to this room, but I remember most of what went on here. I think I was more sober than you at that point. The sex was consensual. I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t want it. I did.”
With a shaking finger, he points to my neck. “What…what about that?”
“Consensual,” I assure him. “I like it…rough. I wanted it rough. I asked you to be rough with me. You gave me what I wanted.”
“So what you’re saying is you were sober and I was drunk.” He cracks a small smile. “Youtook advantage ofme.”
I elbow him hard in the stomach. “Shut up, asshole.”
He starts chuckling. “There’s my nasty witch. I missed her.”
“You came three times,” I remind him. “I think you enjoyed yourself.”
“How many times did you come?” he asks with a bit of an amused tone to his voice.
“Once or twice,” I look down and mumble the lie.
He lifts my chin with his finger until our eyes meet and then raises an eyebrow.
I sigh. “A lot of times, okay?” I admit. “No need to dwell on it. Hate sex suits us both.”
He grins widely as he looks me up and down. “I’ve never seen you all messy like this.”
“Screw you, Daylen. Not all of us get off on looking our worst all the time. I’m sorry I didn’t primp properly. I was worried about the fact that we fucking got married,” I whisper-scream at him.
He rolls his eyes. “If you’d let me continue, I was going to say I like you better this way. You don’t need all that makeup and fancy hairdos. You’re a beautiful woman. You should go natural more often. You’re sexier this way, fresh-faced with your hair all messy.”
