When she doesn’t respond right away, I let the silence drag on, waiting for the other shoe to drop—for her to come to terms with how her wedding day played out and realize she shackled herself to the consolation prize. She doesn’t do any of that.
I silently trail behind her into the house and sit on theopposite side of the sofa. This is it. This is where we havethe talk.
“He went to Mexico,” she says.
Wrong again.
“I know.”
“I didn’t want to go to Mexico.”
“I know that, too.” I cross my ankle over my knee and sink back into the cushions. “Whatdoyou want, Angel?”
She places a throw pillow on her lap and braids the tassel. Her eyes lose focus as she absently works at the threads over and over again. “I want revenge. I want to make him feel like he made the biggest mistake of his life. I want him to come crawling back just so I can watch his face when he realizes I’m gone for good.”
I lean forward and hold out my palm. “Give me your phone.”
Her face pulls into an adorable frown. “Why?”
“Just trust me.”
“Last time I did that, I ended up in a Las Vegas wedding chapel.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“Potato,potato.”
“I fucking love potatoes. Doesn’t change the fact that getting hitched was your idea.” I pull my hair into a low bun and secure it with the hair tie I keep on my wrist. “What was it you said? Oh. Right. ‘Fuck it. Let’s get married. I can’t let this entire trip go to waste.’”
She pulls her phone from her pocket and passes it to me. “The password is Jess’s birthday.”
She stares at me, dumbfounded, as I type in the numbers 0819 before she can finish. “How did you?—”
“It’s the same as mine. August 19th. It also happens to be National Potato Day.”
I smile when I notice the photo she’s set as her homescreen. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she doesn’t want to end this. But I’m not willing to risk losing her, and there’s one surefire way to ensure this marriage lasts more than twenty-four hours.
It’s time to tell the world Angelina Rossi is mine.
I scroll through hundreds of photos from the best night of my life. A lot of them are hazy and out of focus, but they have a certain artistic appeal. I select a few the chapel employees took. There’s a close-up of our hands as Angie slides my wedding band onto my finger, and another where we’re lost in the kiss.
That moment is seared into my brain—I could relive it over and over until the end of time.
I type out a caption: ‘what happens in Vegas can change your life’ and tag my social media account along with the one for the ranch. Just like that, I send it into the depths of the internet. It feels damn good to know the entire world just found out that I roped the baddest woman alive.
I pass the phone back to Angie and sink back into the cushions. “That oughta do it.”
Her eyes widen, and her jaw goes slack. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
My cell lights up like the Fourth of July. I know who it’ll be before I even pick it up.
Girls, Hayes, and Neighs
Jaxon: Another one bites the dust. Congrats brother.
Ruby: Finally!
