Chapter 5 #2
Kyrah and Alex bypass their normal seats. Kyrah sits in front of me and Alex sits next to her. They peer at me with anticipation.
“Play the damn video before I pass out,” Kyrah says.
“Okay,” I sigh, then sit up.
After opening my email and queuing the video, I press play and close my eyes. I don’t want to see their facial expressions. I don’t need to, their verbal expressions are enough. Kyrah gasps. Alexa sighs, and Giselle utters, “Shit. It’s real.”
“And he’s fine,” Kyrah says. “Is this how we find out your ass has been seeing someone?”
“Shh,” Alex pipes up. “I need to hear this.”
When their commentary and sounds cease and only me repeating the vows can be heard, I open my eyes and see all six of theirs glaring at me. The shock and awe on their faces mirror how I still feel, so I end the video.
This shit is so real; I’m married.
“And…that’s legal? Online like that?” Alex asks.
I nod.
“Damn,” she responds.
“Yeah, damn,” Kyrah adds. “But who the hell is this man? I can’t lie; he’s fine fine and you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”
“His name is Quintus and he’s a criminal defense attorney. That’s all I really know. Until this morning, I didn’t know who he was. Y’all, I really fucked up. I let a THC drink and Manhattans ruin my life. I’m fucking married to a stranger.”
“A fine ass stranger,” Kyrah utters lowly, but we all hear her ass.
“What’s the problem? You’re a judge. End the marriage; I’m sure you can,” Giselle says.
“I wish it was that simple. I woke up in his hotel suite this morning.”
“Damn,” Alex sighs. “Was he in bed with you at least?”
“No. I was alone. He was dressed and rushing to a meeting. I found out later that the meeting was actually court,” I begin before breaking it down the best way I can without sounding too much like a judge.
“He appeared in my courtroom, defending his brother, my brother-in-law. That’s when I found out because he asked me to take myself off the case for conflict.
I thought he was bullshitting but you saw the video.
” I sigh. “I had to get off the case and it’s all on the official record.
If I get an annulment now, after removing myself, it’ll raise red flags and?—”
“And finally give your opponent something to attack you with,” Alex interrupts.
“Exactly and I can’t give him that. I just can’t. I earned my seat on the bench and I’m not fucking that up because I wasn’t responsible with my drinking,” I admit.
“Shit! So you’re staying married?” Kyrah asks.
“I have to, at least until after the election,” I admit, revealing what has been plaguing me all day. I can’t get an annulment. “Richardson would run all types of narratives, all pointing to judicial misconduct and abuse of power.”
“Then just tell the truth,” Kyrah says.
“She can’t. Public opinion and image are everything.
Her reputation and career would be at risk,” Alex explains, then reaches her hand out to me.
I place my cell down and grab it. “Whatever you need, I’m here.
If we have to do a real wedding, just let me pick my dress,” she says with a reassuring smile.
“Me too,” Kyrah adds.
Appreciative, I smile then say, “No real wedding. I’m definitely not doing that. I just need to wrap my head around this shit then talk to him.”
“I don’t even have to say anything; you know I’m here for you for whatever. But I do have to meet him. I also need his full name so I can see if he’s one of my clients,” Giselle says.
“It’s Quintus Bako,” I say.
“You know you have to text it. This is my third damn drink,” Giselle says with a smirk.
“Should we toast or something?” Kyrah asks and I roll my damn eyes.
“I’m serious. Maybe one of us can have a happy marriage.
We all know how it turned out that time I wore that beautiful white dress.
” She smirks and we all laugh. Kyrah has been divorced for five years and always refers to her wedding or marriage as that time she wore a white dress. “Raise your glasses,” she insists.
“Bitch, I will not,” I scoff, then relax back in my seat.
Kyrah and Alex return to their regular seats then Giselle looks over at me. “We all know how I feel about relationships, love, and sex,” she says.
“They are all transactional,” I say, repeating her mantra.
Giselle has long believed that all relationships with the opposite sex are transactional with clearly defined benefits on both sides.
Her side, of course, being financial. Unlike me, she doesn’t desire the husband, maybe kids and a life with her forever.
She lives life happily with her own set of rules.
“Exactly,” she confirms with a nod. “But that’s me, not you. Are you sure you’re okay without your dream husband and wedding? Can you do this until November? That’s three whole ass months of pretending to have something you have always wanted, a husband.”
Her words hit me hard, harder than I expected really.
I know I have to do this and that’s all I’ve been trying to focus on—my career, the bench, and my re-election.
Actually doing this, foregoing what I’ve always wanted and settling into a pretend marriage even if it’s only for a few months, hadn’t fully registered with me.
Can I actually do this shit?