Great question.
Only one way to find out.
I check my phone again and open the text thread between—gulp—husband and wife.
And there it is, plain as day. My invitation.
Damn you, Fireball, I hope you burn in hell.
Sighing out of complete exhaustion, I say, “Oh, I know how he knows.” I flash them my phone. “I told him. And I gave him my key.”
Greer once again covers her smile.
“This is not funny!”
“It’s not,” she says while holding back her chuckle. “But—and I mean this in the nicest, most supportive way possible—I really kind of wish I’d been a fly on the wall last night.”
“Me too,” Stella says. “You already don’t really have a filter, but to see what little filter you have while completely unhinged and under the control of Fireball would’ve been entertaining.”
Growing agitated, I stand from the couch and tighten the tie of my robe. “You guys, this is no joking matter.” Making sure I keep my voice down, I whisper shout, “There is a man at my apartment, waiting for his wife to come home. That wife . . . is me.” I point to my chest.
Stella and Greer exchange looks, and I can see the minute their eyes connect. They’re going to laugh.
In three . . .
Two . . .
One . . .
An eruption of covered-up giggles explodes from the both of them, which sends me into a pacing tailspin. Hand on my forehead, I say, “This is freaking serious. What if he actually thinks we’re married?”
“I mean . . . you are actually married,” Stella says. “Vegas doesn’t hand out fake marriages.”
“I know it’s real, but what if he thinks this wasn’t a drunken mistake? He said he was grabbing things and heading to my apartment. He’s—oh God . . . is he moving in?”
Greer shakes her head. “No way. I don’t know Pike all that well, but what I do know about him, he’s not the kind of guy who sticks around. He’s probably just . . . teasing you or something.”
“Does he tease?” Stella asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him crack a joke at school. He’s always so serious.”
“Yeah.” Greer taps her chin. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him joke around either. He’s actually quite the recluse.”
“Oh . . . my . . . God!” I say through clenched teeth. “I married a recluse? Do you know what that means? He’s going to want to stay married.”
“Oh, please,” Stella scoffs. “There’s no way he’s going to want to stay married. This was all a mistake, and I’m sure when you return later today, it’ll be easy to sort out.”
“And what if it’s not?” I ask, feeling as if this Fireball-induced mistake isn’t going to just wash away that easily. Life has never been like that for me. It’s always been one complication after the other, this being the next one I have to survive.
Greer stands from the couch and walks to me. She places her hands on my shoulders and takes a few calming breaths. Looking me in the eyes, she says, “Trust me—Pike Greyson isn’t the marrying type. He probably already has his lawyers drawing up annulment papers as we speak. He’s most likely going to present them to you when you get home.”
I worry my lip. “Are you—are you sure?”
Greer nods. “Trust me. This will all be over sooner than you think.” She gives me a reassuring squeeze and then claps her hands together. “Now, shall we order bacon?”
Stella: Are you home yet? Dying to know what’s happening.
Greer: Yeah, kind of on edge over here. Arlo thinks it’s because I haven’t seen him in a while . . .
Cora: Ew, don’t allude to sex with my brother.
Greer: He’s my husband. We have sex.
Cora: I’m AWARE! But please just keep that part of your life to yourself.
Stella: You’re avoiding. What’s happening over there? It’s been over an hour since we dropped you off.
Cora: I’ve been sitting in the hallway.
Greer: Over an hour? Huh, Arlo was quicker than I thought.
Cora: OMG! Greer! Stop!
Stella: Romeo was too. I walked through the door, he looked at me, and with that one glance, my clothes flew off as if they were attached to a string that someone yanked on.
Cora: I really hate you two.
Greer: No, you don’t. Now, come on. Stand up, put your big girl pants on, and go knock on your apartment door.
Cora: You laughed when you said that, didn’t you?