By now, we were holding up the line, and people behind us seemed to have figured out who we were.
“Hey, that’s the Vegas marriage couple!” I heard one woman say.
Perspiring, he asked for my ID. I gave it to him, and he waved us through quickly, in light of the fact that the crowd in the line behind us was starting to get out their phones and film us.
I tipped my cap in gratitude as we walked through.
“Thanks,” Cat said as our plane lifted into the air.
“What kind of a husband lets his wife get hauled off at security? Not this one.”
She giggled. Once we were in the air, I ordered two daiquiris.
We sipped on them and I didn’t usually care if I was first class or not, but right now I needed a rest from the barrage of recognition we were getting. I was extra grateful for the curtain that separated us from the aisle.
After looking out the window for a few minutes, she turned back to me. “I’ll change my name.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“That was a quick turnaround.”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
She leaned over and whispered. “You do the dishes every night for the rest of our lives.”
I laughed. “Anything to make you happy.”
She threaded a hand through my hair. “I know it’s crazy, but I can’t remember a time where I had a man stick up for me like that before in my life.”
I arched an eyebrow. “No?”
She shook her head. “I guess after my dad died, I didn’t ever have another strong male presence in my life.”
“No boyfriends?”
She shrugged. “Besides the one I had when I was seventeen? I’ve had suitors. And I’ve dated. Nothing super serious, though.”
I laughed. “Suitors? That’s an interesting term.”
“I’ve had patients say they were in love with me. One rich old man offered to pay my student loans, which I declined.”
“That’s quite an offer.”
“It is.”
“So you haven’t had one boyfriend since you’ve been here?”
“It’s hard to date when you’ve got your nose in the books. But to be honest I’ve never really clicked with anyone on a really deep level. And you—are you just a commitment-phobe?”
I put my hand on her leg and looked past her to the sky. “I guess a lot of women would tell you the answer to that is yes. I don’t like commitment.”
She grabbed my arm. “You don’t like commitment ... yet you married me after knowing me for thirty hours?”
“Itoldyou, it’s more if you count our meeting in the elevator.”
