I quickly filled Dirks in on the issue with my medical insurance and how much I needed that medication to curb my cravings. At this point in my journey and treatment, it was important for me to continue taking it.
“So you’re going to ask the teacher to get married because of her health insurance?”
“Yeah. I’ll probably have to move in with her because I want it to look as realistic as possible if an insurance investigator were to ever come out, but long story short, yes.”
“What does she get out of it?” Dirks asked.
I leaned back and cracked a smile. “I mean, aside from me?”
“Dude.” Dirks playfully hit my stomach, and I chuckled.
“Her family’s super uptight, and she basically has an expiration date on when she’s got to go back to them. This will keep her here because it sounds like she doesn’t want to go back.”
Ledger folded his hands in front of his chest. “I’m trying to be understanding here and hear you out, but I’m struggling to see what the difference between this time and last time was.”
With my ex, I’d gotten married because her mom was sick. She’d asked me to marry her in front of her mom, who was dying, and I couldn’t say no. It was rushed, like this might have felt to my friends and family, but this was a new chapter in my life.
I paused and took a deep breath. “First, thank you for listening to me. I wasn’t sure you were going to.”
Ledger reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I promised that I’d do better about listening to you and supporting you.”
“I know.” I looked over at Dirks. “I know both of you want to support me, which is why I truly have thought this out.”
“Alright then, give it to us,” Ledger encouraged me.
“It’ll be a marriage for benefits. We’ll live together, but in the sense of roommates. She’ll get what she needs to get her family off her back, and I’ll be able to have my insurance.”
“Ohhhh,” Dirks said and took a sip of coffee. “This sounds messy.”
“It’s not.” I threw my hands up in frustration. “It’s straightforward.”
Another silence settled between us as I watched Ledger’s expression. He leaned against the wooden chair, arms crossed over his chest. The chair seemed almost too small for him, his massive frame making it look like a toy. He sighed deeply.
“What happens if you stop seeing her?” Dirks asked, drawing my attention.
“What do you mean?”
“It won’t be as messy. Just be roommates, and when you’re ready and figure out your insurance stuff yourself, then you divorce and start dating her again. It seems logical. It’s less... complicated.”
I thought it over, and it did logically seem like the better solution to all this. Plus, it wasn’t like I would never get to know Charlie. I would, but we just wouldn’t be dating each other, take out that complication in this little arrangement.
“That sounds... better,” Ledger said, breaking his silence. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Listen, you’re going to do what you’re going to do regardless of what I say to you, but I like Dirks’s idea.”
My eyes bounced between the two of them. What? There was no screaming? There was no yelling or telling me what a fucking idiot I was?
“I wouldn’t hook up with her either. It really has to be friends. You guys can get to know each other, live together like you would with any roommate, but that would be it. If you don’t want it to get messy.”
I could do that. It’s not like I’d been with anyone since my ex, so holding off a bit longer wouldn’t be a problem. Besides, it would be nice to get to know Charlie as a person.
In my last marriage, everything had moved fast—too fast. It was intense, all fire and impulse, and for a while, that thrillwas addictive too. Looking back, I could see how much my own issues had fed into it. The way I’d thrown myself in, no second thoughts, just pure need. I got obsessed, hyperfocused, letting my addiction take the wheel.
I didn’t want to repeat that cycle, didn’t want to rush into something that would burn out as fast as it started. I wanted to take my time, to really get to know her. I wanted something real, something that could last. For once, I wanted a foundation that felt solid, something steady. I was willing to go slow for that—to savor each moment and build something meaningful, step by step.
If she agreed to get married, we could work on the foundation, the friendship, the steady stuff I’d never really had with anyone before. If we made it through all the messy bits and came out the other side of this arrangement once I’d gotten a job with health insurance, we’d have something real. I imagined us building a friendship that could actually hold us together, something that would last beyond the paperwork.
If, by the time we eventually got divorced, we still felt the same way, we’d have a foundation, something deeper. Maybe then we could be all in without having to worry about where we stood or if it was all the heat of the moment. We’d already have the basics, the stuff that lasts. And if not? At least we’d have had a shot at doing things right, at going slow, and really knowing each other.
It was strange to think of a marriage ending as a starting point, but it felt like the right way to go.
