7. Georgia
What the fuck just happened?
My life is over.
How does one say “I’ve fucked up tremendously” in Spanish? I refuse to ask Derek, but I feel like saying it in a different language will add emphasis to the fact that I’ve ruined my goddamned life.
Out of all of the crazy things I’ve done over the years, getting married in Vegas never crossed my mind.
I mean… I’ve joked about it, but going through with it is a completely different story.
I can’t be fucking married. What I need to be doing is getting my life together and figuring out how to get my career started in the fashion industry—not being a bride.
You know what? This isn’t even real… This is all a VR simulation, and in ten seconds, I’m going to take off my VR glasses and be back home in Summerfield watching old Hallmark Christmas movies.
Yup. That’s exactly what’s about to happen.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I count to three and open them.
When I open my eyes, bright lights shine around me, and a man stands over me, blocking out the sun.
Tilting my head, I frown.
“God, is that you?”
Did I close my eyes so hard that I went to Heaven?
“You wish…”
I suck my teeth.
Derek raises a brow at me, holding out a hand for me to get up from the curb I parked my ass on fifteen minutes ago.
My stomach growls, and I groan. Just fucking great.
Sighing, I run a hand through my hair as my reality truly dawns on me.
Derek and I married one another after getting drunk in Vegas. I didn’t get into my dream scholarship. My father is marrying someone four years older than me, and now I have a stepdaughter.
I need a fucking drink.
Drinking is what got you into this mess, G…
Shit.
Wait… I have a daughter now.
“Oh my goodness… What about Delilah? Derek, we fucked up. How is she going to be able to adjust? She might think I’m the worst person in the world—”
He gives me a small disarming smile, placing both hands on my shoulders, and successfully shuts me up.
“First off, Deli loves you. She’s always asking when you and the girls will have playdates with her.
Secondly, we’ll worry about her after I get you fed.
You’re cold, hungry, and about to start panicking…
Let’s get you something to eat first, okay?
” he asks, tilting his head. The softness in his expression disarms me completely, and soon enough, I’m nodding, allowing him to pull me out of the chaos that is my own mind.
Well, this is fucking awkward.
Sitting at the window table of a Mexican restaurant named Viva Las Taqueria before eight a.m. with my husband, shifting in our seats and avoiding eye contact, wasn’t how I expected my morning in Vegas to go.
Derek sighs for what feels like the fifteenth time, taking a sip of his lemon water, looking everywhere but at me.
Something inside me deflates. Even though we’re fairly newer friends, there’s never been any awkwardness between the two of us.
Derek’s the type of guy who always makes you feel comfortable and at home when he’s around.
He includes you in conversations, feeds you, and if you’re lucky, he introduces you to his daughter.
Right now? I feel like I’m sitting with my archenemy because of how thick and cold the air between us is.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Derek. We got married—it’s not like you sold your damn soul,” I snap, immediately regretting my tone when he winces and sets his drink down.
He studies me for a moment before sighing, running a tired hand over his face. “What do you want me to do, Blondie? We both came to Vegas with the intention of letting loose only to shackle ourselves to one another…”
I don’t mean for it to happen. Hell, I was harsh first, but his words still sting nonetheless, and now I’m the one flinching.
“Shackled? I’m not keeping you here; by all means, we can end this right now.”
God, I wish I had a full stomach… and a strawberry cupcake.
I don’t like where this is going, and if we keep heading down our current path—we’ll be at each other's throats in a few minutes. And I don’t mean in the hot, steamy, gimme your dick way—I mean in the gladiator, slay my enemies, and shit on their graves way.
“And what if I don’t want to?” he counters, and my heart stops.
“Excuse—”
“Are you two still looking, or would you like to get your orders in now?” Our waitress, a young lady named Tina, questions, appearing out of nowhere as I gape at the man across from me.
“We’re ready. She’ll have the huevos divorciados, and I’ll take the chilaquiles Pancho Villa with added asada, thank you,” he says, smiling at the waitress while my mouth catches flies.
“Divorce?! You said not even ten seconds ago that you want to stay married—crazy as fuck, might I add—and now you say I want a divorce? What drug did you take last night?!” I quietly shriek, leaning across the table.
Derek chuckles softly, a small smirk spreading across his lips as he crosses his arms.
“Huevos divorciados are two fried eggs with different sauces.”
“Oh…”
That wasn’t embarrassing at all…
I roll my lips in and sit back down. The air between us is brimming with something that I can’t place as I sheepishly look out the window at the early Vegas morning.
Derek ordered my food for me… I don’t typically like it when guys do that, but I didn’t hate that he did.
I chew the inside of my cheek as my skin grows hot.
“You okay, Blondie?” he asks, his voice back to its usual calming tone as I shrug.
“I just… I need a second,” I say before getting up and dashing to the bathroom.
As soon as I’m safely in the bathroom and sure that no one else can hear me, I scream into my hands and stomp my feet.
Get your head together, Georgia. You can not seriously be shy because he ordered your food for you…
Taking a deep breath, I begin to pace the bathroom.
“This could either be the greatest thing I’ve done in my life, or we could end up hurting a lot of people…” I speak aloud, gnawing on my bottom lip.
“I got fucking married yesterday, and I don’t even remember it.” I groan, pulling out my phone and dialing the one person I know will answer.
Jace.
I’m going to seriously regret calling my asshole of a best friend, but shit, I’m freaking out.
As soon as the phone connects, I scream, unable to contain myself as he grimaces, showing my other best friend, Sienna, sitting across from him on their hotel room balcony.
“Dude, it’s eight fucking a.m., why are you—”
“I fucked up!” I shout, holding up my left hand to the camera. The gigantic emerald sparkles as it catches the light, and my heart tightens in my chest.
“I don’t know what happened last night, but this?!” I shriek, and as I’m about to continue screaming about my problems to my friends, the door to the bathroom opens, and the line cuts.
Tina stands in the doorway, her expression soft as she gives me a small smile.
“Ma’am, the gentleman at your table was wondering where you went, and I decided to do a wellness check of my own—I can get you out of here if you’d like, we have an escape latch in the handicap stall…” she says, her eyes apologetic as she takes a full step into the bathroom.
My heart drops as her words sink in.
Derek is looking for me?
“Uh… No, I’m—I’m okay, that’s my… husband.”
Tina tilts her head, her brows dipping before she nods, leaving me alone in the bathroom. With a sigh, I run a hand through my hair and take a look at myself in the mirror.
I did something incredibly stupid last night, but maybe some good can come from it. The vibrations of my phone pull me from my reflection; Denver’s calling.
Without hesitation, I answer the call and try to smile when her face pops up on the screen. She must sense the freak-out brewing in me because the first thing that comes out of her mouth is, “You’re okay.”
Taking a deep breath, I try to relax, but I can’t. I got married to a man whom I barely know. Sure, Derek and I are friends, but we met only six months ago. What’s to say we don’t regret this? What’s to say we don’t end up ruining one another's lives?
My hands are shaky as I reach into my bag, pulling out a singular card from my wallet and showing it to the camera.
Denver grimaces. “You’re using the get out of jail free card now? You just got it less than a week ago.” She tries to joke, but it falls flat when I don’t laugh.
How could I laugh? I’ve gotten myself into some serious shit.
“Den…” I whine, but she isn’t hearing any of that.
She waves a hand in the air, silencing me with a smile, “You can use the get out of jail card today, but there’s nothing to be upset about, G. Sure, you’ve done something crazy, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“Sure feels like it is.”
She chuckles and moves around in her hotel bed. Ryan’s shirtless behind her, peering over her shoulder.
“What happened, Peach?” he asks, and the use of my childhood nickname has the waterworks beginning to brim all over again.
Denver grimaces before whispering to him away from the camera. All I can hear is him shouting, “What?!” before she walks out of the room and onto a balcony.
“Listen, Georgia, everything will be okay. If it had been anyone else that you woke up married to, I wouldn’t be saying this, but Derek is genuinely a great guy. You two will get through this, annulment or not—you’ll be okay. Okay?”
I gulp before nodding. “Okay… thanks, girl.”
“Of course. Now, go call Cleo. She should know what her best friend got up to last night.”
When Denver hangs up, I open my messages with my best friend and sigh.
She’s the person who I’m most afraid to tell anything to.
Cleo’s always been the perfect one between the two of us.
Where she excelled in school, I barely passed because of my faulty brain.
Cleo’s always put together… and then there’s me.
Georgia, the girl whose father stepped out on her mother.
Georgia, the girl who wasn't good enough for Eden Marlowe to notice.
Georgia, the girl who tried drowning her sorrows in liquor and woke up married.
I love Cleo, but I can’t burden her with this—
A voice note comes through in our text message.
Clicking on the text exchange between Cleo and me, my heart swells as her drunken voice plays from the speakers.
“Girl… Why the fuck did Zola just tell me that you got married?! Where the fuck was I? Did you at least wear a cute dress—who am I kidding, it’s you! Of course you did. But what the fuck is she talking about? Call me now.”
Chuckling lightly, I save the text and press the FaceTime button. Cleo answers on the first ring, her face taking up the entire screen.
“Where’s your ‘husband’? Why wasn’t I invited? Who is your husband? Am I being punked?” she asks as soon as the call connects.
A small smile dusts my face. “He’s sitting at our table. I don’t even remember being invited to the wedding. Derek and I wish we were both being punked right now.”
Cleo’s always been the type to think before acting. When my words fully process for her, her eyes widen, and she gasps.
“Way to go, G.” She smirks, tilting the camera closer to her face. “Did you two have sex last night?”
“Ms. Jones, have you no shame?” I gasp, mockingly reprimanding her as she shrugs.
“Derek’s hot… I say jump on it.”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh. “I tell you that I got married last night to a man that I barely know, and the first thing you ask is if we had sex? Who are you and what’ve you done with my best friend?”
She giggles. “I’m asking the real questions. Plus, I figured you want someone to talk to you like you would talk to them. Besides, you can get to know him. Sure, we all just became friends last semester, but he’s not a bad guy. Sienna, Jace, and Blake trust him. That’s good enough for me.”
My heart swells because in a way, she’s right.
If I had someone give me a stern talking to about this, I’d probably crumble.
Seeing as my friends have been nothing but receptive to this new development, I think that I may be okay.
Even if he and I only met in September… If my friends trust him and I trust him, then I should be okay. Right?
Nodding, I smile at the phone. “Thanks, CJ. I’ll tell you more when we get home… Right now, I think my ‘husband’ and I need to have a talk.”
In seconds, I’m sitting back down in front of Derek. He’s the perfect image of calm and collected as I go crazy in my mind.
“Listen… this whole thing is a lot, Dere. I came here with different intentions, and now in less than twelve hours, I’m going to leave here with a brand new life.”
He reaches across the table, grasping my hand in his. The feel of his rough, calloused hands has goosebumps erupting up my spine as we lock eyes. The darkness of his brown eyes sends shockwaves through me as they softly caress my face.
“We’ll get through this together, but what do you say? Will you stay married to me?”