I’ve brought it up a few times, but she insists that we’re not moving in together just because it’s convenient. She may think she’s being reasonable but there’s nothing reasonable about having two people’s belongings spread across two apartments. Especially when you need to go down a few floors to find your lucky T-shirt.
Yes, I have a lucky T-shirt. I’ve been known to wear it under my formal shirt to important meetings with investors. Which is what I did earlier in the week. It’s the kind of T-shirt you wear when your girlfriend’s parents invite you to Sunday afternoon dessert. I’ve had dessert at her house since I was a kid but this time it’s different. I don’t want to be seen as the kid who used to spend a lot of time there. And certainly not as a friend of the family. I’m going as the man in their daughter’s life. I want it to go well.
We’ve also decided to tell her parents about the quickie marriage. There’s no need to tell them really. But Angela doesn’t want it to be a secret anymore. More importantly since all of our siblings and my cousins know, she doesn’t want everyone to have to watch their tongues or risk letting something slip and upsetting her parents.
Our divorce papers arrived on Friday afternoon. I’ve looked over them, but I haven’t signed them yet. We agreed that once we’ve both read over it, we could sit down together and discuss anything that we did not agree with. It's pretty simple though. We both leave the marriage with what we brought into it. I don’t know if Angela has read through her copy yet. I suggested she get a lawyer to look at it for her.
I unlock her apartment and slip inside. It feels weird being here without her. I look among the pile of folded clothes that belongs to me and find the T-shirt.
A sheet of paper on the small table she’s using for… well, everything, catches my eye. Marketing Consultant Business Plan. It’s not a formal business plan, just notes of the research she’s been doing. I knew she’s been giving the idea some thought, I just didn’t know she was ready to take it seriously.
My first instinct is to offer my help in drawing up a formal business proposal and plan. I pause and smile. Yeah, I can imagine how well that conversation will go. Hey Angel, I snooped around your apartment and found your work on an idea you’re not ready to talk about. That conversation was not going to go well. And frankly, I like getting laid. I’d like to keep those privileges.
I mean, until a few nights ago we’d still been doing it every single day. Sometimes more than once. I’m not complaining that we’ve slowed down a bit, that’s normal I suppose. It’s just noteworthy. She said her libido is usually low when she’s due to get her period. But if I’m calculating properly, she should’ve had it at least once since we’ve been together. Maybe I’ll get a better idea of her cycle after a few months. Still, it’s niggling at me. Obviously, I haven’t been with her while she’s at work. But both yesterday and this morning, she’d been throwing up.
Yeah, I’m thinking that she might be pregnant. I don’t want to dwell on it though. The idea doesn’t scare me. But the idea of getting my hopes up and having them crushed. That’s a little scary.
I decide to put it out of my mind. If she’s still getting sick over the next few days, I’ll bring it up again. Besides, we’ve been careful.
When I arrive back at my apartment, Angela is already dressed and read to go. Within minutes we’re out the door and headed to her parents. She’s visibly nervous.
I take her hand. “Look, if they don’t take things too well, I’ll get you out of there as soon as I can.”
“You promise?” She’s chewing her lower lip. It would be adorable if it wasn’t a sign of how worried she is.
“I promise.” I give her hand a squeeze. “We did this together. We’ll handle it together. I’m not going to throw you to the wolves. Besides, my grandfather will be there as well.”
She covers her face with her hand. “Oh, God. Your grandfather. He’s so proud of you. I don’t want him to be disappointed in you.”
“Look, if you want, we can tell them once the divorce is final.”
“I know that seems like the easiest solution.” It’s not, but I don’t argue. “But the longer we keep this secret, the longer the rest of our family needs to lie. I can’t do that to them. My mother is going to be pissed with everyone as it is.”
Maybe she’s right. Now more than ever, I want it to be that we didn’t make a mistake in Vegas. Impulsive? Yes. But if we want to stay married, then it’s not a mistake. Is that what I want? I can certainly see myself being married to her. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I’m in love with her.
I tighten my hands on the steering wheel. My thoughts have me reeling. I’m really in love with her. I don’t want a divorce. Sure, it’s a quick hop from being in love to wanting to be married, but I have never been more sure of anything in my life.
It seems nothing has changed. Her parents still greet me as warmly as they always have. Only Andi and my grandfather have joined us. I suppose all of Angela’s siblings decided to skip dessert when she told them she was telling her parents about the marriage.
Her mother asks how it all started; Angela says we went on a few dates while I was in Vegas. Not technically a lie. I mean, they were mostly dates in my hotel suite but that hardly matters. We had the perfect opportunity to tell them what else happened in
