Chapter 3
THREE
Alex
“You’re positive you wanna do this?”
I shoot Blanks a glare for asking the same question for the fiftieth time. He throws up both hands in surrender.
Straightening my arms, I fix my cufflinks and shudder because this is fucking happening.
I love you, Alex.
I know, Jess. And that’s the fucking problem.
The only way I’m staying away from her is with a damn good reason. Cue this insane, knee-jerk plan to find a wife in Vegas.
I thought the plan was moot last night. I would take another route to stay away from Jess. From anyone. But then her.
I wish you’d stay. And the way she looked at me like she saw me. I couldn’t follow through with Plan B. It would have to be Plan A. I’d put a ring on someone else’s finger and accept that Jess is best left alone.
In a way, I’m trading my freedom for hers. I would do it any day.
The double doors open on the other side of the chapel, revealing Emma holding a small bouquet of cheap flowers. I almost feel bad for the pitiful display, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it, judging by the kind smile on her face.
As she walks down the aisle of the sterile chapel wearing an old dress and high heels that bring her to my eye level, I look at her.
I give her my attention for a brief moment.
She looks pretty. Her blonde hair falls in long waves down her back, and the mini veil that the woman at the front desk hoisted on her is tucked into the crown of her head.
She’s undeniably attractive and pleasing to look at, but I feel nothing towards her. Absolutely nothing. No burning desire, no lust. I’m just looking at a stranger who was kind enough to tell me she thought I was worth something. That she wanted me to stay.
Don’t get it twisted; I’m feeling things right now, but none of it is about Emma, and none of it is good.
I love you, Alex.
I visibly wince, and Blanks looks at me, but I shake my head to let him know it’s nothing. He recedes, standing beside me, hands clasped behind his back, feet wide. He might think this is fucking crazy. And it is. But he didn’t try to stop it.
He isn’t trying now.
As Emma approaches, I work to control my breathing, to slow my heart rate, but none of my usual tactics work. All I want — no. All I need is to get this over with as soon as possible. The reality of being in a wedding chapel with someone who isn’t Jess doesn’t sit well with my soul.
Traitor, my inner voice hisses at me.
But I’m done. I’m done with all that shit. The inner voice calling me a traitor. Jess’s voice on replay saying ‘I love you.’ Saying ‘don’t call me.’ Soon, that shit will all be over. Soon.
Emma isn’t smiling anymore, but she’s not exactly frowning as she comes to stand beside me at the front of the altar.
The officiant begins, but my ears get hot, and all the sound turns muffled.
I focus on an arrangement of faux florals behind Emma to keep me rooted, but then all it takes is one blink, and the officiant is already asking me if I do.
And, “I do,” I say solemnly, sliding the solitaire diamond ring and its encrusted wedding band onto Emma’s finger.
She gasps in surprise at the sight.
And then it’s her turn. She says a quiet, “I do,” and I slip her the gold band I bought this morning. She slides it onto my finger in turn.
“And by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you man and wife! You may now kiss your bride!”
Emma hesitates, and I shake my head once. No. With her feet planted firmly on the ground, I lean forward to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. The officiant eyes us warily, but I don’t give a fuck.
I’d just done it. Sealed my fate. Jess would never want me again.
I push down the urge to vomit.
There’s no clapping or cheering, and rightfully so. We pose for one photo, taken by Blanks, and then we’re standing outside in a strip mall parking lot. Again.
“So…” Emma trails off, unsure what comes next. Same.
I check the time on my watch. “We fly out early tomorrow morning. We can just meet in the lobby around 5:00 A.M.?” I got her her own room at the Four Seasons. I’m trying to set a clear boundary that this is a business arrangement. We’re transactional.
Blanks is focusing on his phone and not paying attention to the conversation.
I watch as she glances at Blanks and then back to me. “That’s all?” I can’t discern her expression from her face or her tone.
“If you need something, Dave can take you anywhere.” More quietly, I ask, “Or do you need more money?” I haven’t had a chance to make the initial deposit to Emma’s account, but I will.
“I just thought,” her brows pinch together, “that we might get dinner or something.” She finally lets the arm that’s been holding up her bouquet fall defeatedly.
I pause, letting the opportunity and possibilities play out, but, “I can’t…
sorry.” I tack the apology on at the end.
I have a precedent to set that I’m not fucking interested.
At all. Not in spending time together, not even in making the most of a fucking weird situation.
This fake marriage isn’t like it was with Jess.
Where all I wanted was Jess, all I needed was her.
Like she was the fucking air I breathed.
She was an all-consuming, drown-in-her type of love.
This ain’t that.
That’s all I had wanted, at least. Now, all I need is to hurt Jess and not much else.
Pain seems to be our currency. Just a constant, fluid exchange between the two of us.
There isn’t much I wouldn’t give to see her face twist at the sting, to watch her come to the same understanding as me that whatever we could have been is dead.
It shriveled under my brokenness but under hers, too.
Maybe if she took equal ownership of our downfall, I wouldn’t be here, standing next to my wife, who isn’t her.
It doesn’t matter, though, whether I see it. It changes nothing, and in the end, for every hurt I cause Jess, I would do anything to make it right again. I’m still doing this for her. My freedom for hers. My life for hers. She can do what she wants with that.
Emma watches me skeptically, taking in the thoughts playing out on my face. Reading the deep grooves between my eyebrows, my clenched jaw, or at least she’s trying to.
I inhale once and release the tension.
“I think I’ll just head back to the hotel then, too…” Emma resigns. I want to ask if she’s really okay with that, but I hesitate. Is this one question the stepping stone? That’s how it started with Jess. Just a couple simple questions.
How are you?
Fine.
Answering had been indulgent. I see that now.
Blanks slides his phone into his pocket, then offers, “What’d you have in mind for dinner?”
“Um,” Emma hesitates to answer, “just wanted to get tacos from this little place before we leave.” She averts looking at him to look back at me.
“You should do that,” I tell her. “I need some sleep, though. Dave can take you.” As anticipated, Dave pulls forward, hopping out to open the backseat door.
“But what about you?” Emma asks. I shrug.
Giving a tight-lipped, not-quite smile, I say, “I’m gonna walk back to the hotel. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Quickly, Emma goes up on her toes, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek, making me feel like a fucking asshole.
She whispers, “Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning,” then steps away, slipping into the black sedan.
Blanks shoots me a look I don’t have the energy to decipher before joining her. When they pull away, I can finally exhale. Fuck.
Emma
He makes my skin crawl. I literally shiver at the thought. The guy with the lip foliage notices, slipping off his jacket and placing it over my shoulders.
“Oh, thanks,” I say, surprised. “I don’t even know your name.” No one spoke on our way to the wedding chapel. It was just a very somber drive. To get married.
He smirks. “It’s Caleb, but you’ll soon come to find everyone just calls me Blanks.” A little bit twangy. I hadn’t realized that until now.
“I’m Emma.”
“I know,” he says.
“Mrs. Palomino?” Dave asks. I don’t say anything, waiting, thinking maybe he’s on the phone. He seems like one of those guys who always has an earpiece in.
Blanks leans in closer and whispers, “That’d be you.” Oh. Shit.
“I’m so sorry, Dave, yeah?”
“Just need the address, ma’am.” Mrs. Palomino.
Ma’am. Is this an alternate reality? Or maybe I finally passed my purgatory test and slipped into heaven.
It could have just as easily been an admin error or glitch in the matrix that landed me in this new place, though.
Or maybe I finally arrived in hell, and this would all take a turn very shortly…
“Of course.” I shakily pull my phone from my clutch to search for the address, then pass the phone over to the older man when we come to a stoplight.
“Congratulations, by the way,” Blanks says as we resume driving towards our destination. He’s manspreading in the seat beside me, his knee nearly coming into contact with mine. He’s taken a foot and turned it into inches. I watch from the corner of my eye as it narrows to centimeters.
“Thanks, I think…” His tone feels off somehow, or maybe I’m speculating, reading into something that doesn’t exist.
The car ride continues quietly until we pull into the parking lot.
“Drive-thru, Mrs. Palomino?” Dave asks. The answer is obvious: this isn’t a sit-down restaurant. It’s a window.
“Yes, please.”
We pull up, and Blanks rolls down his window to order.
“What are you having, Dave?” he asks our driver first.
“Nothing for me, sir.” Blanks looks at me, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a smile, two dimples popping through.
“What would you like, Mrs. Palomino?” he asks. Mrs. Palomino rolls off his tongue sharply.
“A carnitas taco plate and a Coke. Please.” I open my clutch to pull out money, but he just rolls his eyes again and turns away from me.
A crackly voice asks for our order, and Blanks proceeds, “Three carnitas taco plates and three Cokes, please.”