Once Hailey starts antibiotics,she improves quickly, starting to feel better after just a couple of days, and back to pretty much her normal self in about a week. Which is good because I’m anxious to get married before preseason starts. I want to know that she’s on my insurance and has access to everything she needs before I’m gone half the time.
“So,” I start one morning after she’s feeling better. As I’d suspected while we were in Wisconsin, herI only drink coffee for breakfastpreference seems to be more income related than anything else because she’s been eating breakfast—a light one, sure—every day since she’s been here.
She pauses, toast stopping on its way to her mouth, and arches an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“About the wedding.”
That has her setting the toast back on her plate and straightening her back, though she leans away from the table, resting stiffly against the back of the chair. “What about it?” she asks, sounding suspicious.
That has my eyebrows climbing. “Well, I thought we agreed it was the best plan. That way, you’re covered by insurance, and I can add you to my credit card accounts.”
“Accounts? Plural?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
She’s already shaking her head before I finish. “Just one is more than enough. I still think it’s a little insane that you want to do this at all.”
Pressing my lips together, I sigh. Is it insane? Maybe. When I talked to Bouchard again last week, he seemed to think it was a little nuts, but not totally bonkers. He’s said that Hailey’s hesitation makes him feel better about the whole thing. And I get where he’s coming from. It would be concerning if it seemed like she just wanted to get married so she could take me to the cleaners. But her hesitation makes that seem unlikely. Plus …
“We also talked about a prenup.”
There’s that part. Leaning forward, I rest my forearms on the table and offer her a smile. “That’s true. We did. And I wanted to show it to you before we schedule an appointment with an attorney for you. Just so you know what you’re working with.” Opening my tablet, I pull up the draft my lawyer sent me and set it next to her plate.
She moves the plate aside, half-eaten toast now forgotten, and pulls the tablet in front of her, hunching over it with her hands in her lap and her shoulders rounded as she reads, only lifting one hand to scroll as she needs to.
Once she finishes, she straightens, shaking her head. “This is too much, Jason.”
“It’s not,” I argue. “It’s the bare minimum, really.”
“No. Once we divorce, I shouldn’t get anything. A seventy-five thousand dollar settlement is way too much.”
Lifting one shoulder, I counter that statement with, “It’s not even enough to live comfortably in Seattle for a year. It’s the lowend of an average annual salary. Once you’re established, I want you to have backup funds in case anything happens. Whether you want it or not, no attorney who reviews the prenup would let you take less than that. In fact, they might press for more, as that’s in lieu of you getting half my assets, including this condo.” I gesture at my place.
Her mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. Looking back at the table, she closes her mouth and furrows her brow, scrolling through it again. “I don’t know if I can let you do this,” she whispers.
“Why not?” I challenge, though I keep my voice soft. It’s a struggle, though. I want her to understand that this is as important to me as using the coupon for her antibiotics was for her. I want to take care of her. I want to make sure she’s set up. And while the promise I made to Hunter is part of that, there’s more than that now. Spending time with her in Wisconsin and since she moved here …
I just …
I can’t explain it very well, not even to myself. But Iwantto marry her. I want her here. With me. For as long as she wants to stay.
But I know if I tell her that, she won’t believe me. Or worse, she’ll bail. So I’m giving her an escape hatch so she knows she’s not trapped.
“I want to, Hailey,” I say after a moment of deciding how to put this in a way that lets her know I’m serious without scaring her off. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again. I have the ability to do this. Giving you this money won’t hurt me. I’ve already put a chunk of it aside in a high-yield savings account in your name. I’ll add to it over time, and you’ll get the account when we divorce.” And the reality is, if there’s more than seventy-five thousand in that account at that point, she gets whatever’s in there. If there’s less, I’ll add the balance.
She swallows hard. “And no one’s tried to talk you out of this?”
Shaking my head, I grin. “My lawyer thinks I’m a cheap asshole for only doing this amount, actually. I think his exact words were, ‘How can you claim to love this woman but only give her a pittance like this?’”
Her eyes bulge. “A pittance?”
I notice she doesn’t say anything about the love comment.
Laughing, I shrug again. “Compared to his salary and mine, it is. I told him that you were the one insisting on a prenup and that you’d probably object that this is too much. That’s the only reason he drafted it as-is. He wants to protect my assets—that’s his job, after all—but he also doesn’t want you to get screwed.” Clearing my throat, I pull a business card out of my wallet. “He also recommended this attorney for you to have the prenup reviewed. I took the liberty of making an appointment for you tomorrow.”
Her head snaps up from looking at the prenup again. “Tomorrow?”
“That way, once you’re satisfied, we can sign it, then we can go pick up the marriage license. There’s a three-day waiting period, and the courthouse is already pretty booked.” I shift in my chair. “We could, uh … well, Bouchard already got one of those online certificates saying he’s ordained. He said he could do the ceremony for us. He and Maggie, his girlfriend, already said they’d be our witnesses. Of course, if he’s doing the ceremony, we’ll need someone else as a second witness, but there are a lot of parks nearby that would be pretty for a wedding. Maggie offered to go dress shopping with you if you want …” I’m practically babbling, so I close my mouth and clear my throat, meeting Hailey’s wide, nearly disbelieving eyes. “I know we said a courthouse, but a park might be nice. I have a suit already. You don’t have to buy a new dress if you don’t wantto. You could wear that, for all I care.” I gesture at her tank top and sleep shorts. “But, well, people might think it’s a little funny you didn’t wear a dress, is all.”
