“That’s perfectly alright,” the organizer replies. “We’ve already received your credentials, so all you’ll need to do is sign the paperwork.”
I reach forward to pause the video. “Fuck, so do you think it was a real officiant? Does that make a difference?”
“I think the license is more important than the officiant,” Euan replies, though he sounds as uncertain as I feel.
I click play again and we watch the ceremony unfold. Since neither of us remembered the events, I expected both of us to be sloppy drunks who were obviously in no condition to make life-changing decisions. But somehow, in the video, we come across as a nervous, excited couple.
My words are slightly muffled as I repeat the typical vows, “I, Alexander Marklin, take you, Euan Blair, as my lawfully wedded husband.” I trip over some of the words, but the alcohol has made my face flush so red that I appear giddy and embarrassed over the minor mistakes.
“I, Euan Blair, take you, Alexander Marklin,” Euan trails off, gazing down at me. He raises his hand to brush a thumb over my lips.
“The kiss comes after,” the officiant says offscreen, amused. Their words make it sound like we’re too eager rather than too drunk. “You have to finish the vows first.”
“As my lawfully wedded husband,” Euan finishes, though I only know that’s what he says because the words are expected. His tongue seems clumsier now, tying the words into knots.
“Alright,nowyou may kiss.”
The kiss is chaste at first, just a brushing of lips. Then Euan really gets into it, parting my lips with his tongue, crowding me up against the wall. Not that I’m behaving any better—my hands paw at his clothes like I want to rip them off him. Obscene, wet whimpers spill from my throat like I’m begging for more.
A cheer rises in the background, like half the bar is celebrating our marriage. Or maybe they’re all excited for their next shot.
The Virtual Vows Representative coughs delicately, then more loudly when the first time does nothing to pull Euan and I apart. When we finally separate, my lips are swollen and glossy, and both of our eyes are dazed and almost black with desire.
“Congratulations on your marriage,” she says. “Your officiant will walk you through the rest of the paperwork and you’ll receive a physical copy of everything in the mail.”
The video stops there.
On film, we look more drunk on love than alcohol, but anyone who saw us in person would have known that wasn’tthe case. There’s no way either of us could have signed the paperwork without a lot of coaxing and guidance. And the more they talked to us, the more we would have stumbled over our words. The witnesses were as drunk as we were, but the officiant sounded sober and had married us anyway.
Was that all part of the scam? Find a couple of drunk suckers, charge them several hundred dollars, then work together with some friends to trick them into believing in the virtual wedding? It seemed a little elaborate, but it’s the only explanation I can think of.
Or the only explanation Iwantto think of, because the more we discover, the more I worry that Euan and I might actually be married.
I clear my throat and say, “So, we need to find the officiant.”
Chapter Eight: Euan
The bartender is not happy to see two people standing outside the doors five minutes before they open. He shoots us several aggrieved looks as he finishes his opening tasks, as if hoping we’ll mosey away and find someone else to bother.
Finally, he unlocks the door and gestures for us to come inside. “What can I get you?” he asks in a monotone voice.
“Do you remember us from last night?” Alex asks, trailing the bartender inside like an overeager puppy.
The bartender’s lip curls. “You’re hard to forget.” Though his tone implies he wishes that we weren't.
Alex’s eyes widen in excitement as if he can’t feel the irritation radiating from the man. “Did you officiate our wedding?”
That finally makes the bartender hesitate. “Your what?”
Some of the excitement drains from Alex’s face but the bartender’s clear confusion doesn’t deter him. “So, here’s what happened—”
My phone buzzes while Alex summarizes the events as we know them. I glance at the notification, grimacing when I see the name.
Nick
Can we talk?
I put my phone away and tune back in to Alex’s words.
