“It happens to the best of us, honey,” a middle-aged woman in the elevator with me says. “Don’t worry, though, getting it annulled is as easy as putting on pantyhose.”
For me, pantyhose has never been easy to put on—the whole slipping your legs into skin tight material while trying not to rip the thin material never seemed to work for me. But I am curious …
“How many times have you done it?”
“Six,” she answers. “I almost stayed married to the fifth husband, but then he bought this furry bear costume and told me it was a fantasy of his. I was cool with wearing the body part, but that mask …” She shudders. “It was just too sweaty and smelled like broccoli.” She sighs as the elevator comes to a stop. “After I couldn’t go through with it, things were never the same between us, and I had to let him go.” The doors glide open, and she steps off. “You take care, honey. And remember, no matter what happens, there’s always husband number two and three and four—” The doors glide shut, cutting her off.
A breath escapes my lips. Holy shit, is that where I’m heading? To fleeting marriages, annulments, and bear costumes?
“No … no, no, no.” I lower my head into my hands. “I can fix this.”
I just have to go back to Evan’s room and tell him last night was a mistake.
Chapter 12
I can’t go through with it. And not just because I’m a big fat chicken.
I keep replaying Evan’s proposal in my head, how I was nice to him when no one else was. From what I can remember, he was pretty emotional about it.
Then I start to worry that maybe he doesn’t even remember marrying me. By the time I make it out of the elevator, I’ve psyched myself out. Instead of going back to Evan’s room, I go to mine. Thankfully, Emersyn is in the shower when I sneak in, so I’m able to pack my bags and hurry out without crossing paths with her.
I wander around the city until Carrie Lynn texts me, wondering where I am. I’m not even sure how she got my number and how hers is entered in my phone, but my bet is I did it sometime last night and just can’t remember.
Carrie Lynn: The schedule says we should be driving home by now! Where are you?
Me: Sorry! Went shopping and lost track of time!
Then I give her my location so they can come pick me up. I’m so nervous I have pit stains by the time the SUV parks beside the curb. Evan starts to get out, but I dive into the middle seat and slam the door.
“I want to hold my bag!” I shout in a panic, hugging my bag tightly against my chest.
“Okay?” Carrie Lynn stares at me with a perplexed look before drawing her oversized sunglasses over her eyes and slumping back in the seat. “I don’t care what you do, just as long as you don’t yell like that again. I’m so hungover.”
Her friends all nod in agreement then put on their sunglasses.
From the passenger seat, Emersyn dubiously eyes me over, and I swear her gaze lingers on the ring on my finger.
I subtly tuck my hand behind my bag, wondering if she knows.
“Are we good to go?” Evan asks as he slides back into the driver’s seat without so much as glancing at me.
Hmmm … Maybe he doesn’t remember. Or maybe he does, and he’s just playing it cool, unlike me, who sputters, “Yeah, we’re good! Totally cool. You and I. Just like the weather. Did you know it’s seventy-two degrees out right now and sunny? It’s perfect for skipping. And singing.” I shake my head at myself. Get a grip on yourself, woman! He’s only a man!
Evan glances over his shoulder at me, appearing confused. “Um, thanks for the weather update, I guess.”
Um, okay … Maybe he really doesn’t remember. At least it doesn’t seem that way. And now I’m the one who’s going to have to break it to him that he’s hitched to a crazy girl who blabbers a lot, is very scatter-brained, and once got stuck in a rotating door for ten minutes. Great.
“Can you please just get us out of here?” Carrie Lynn motions for Evan to get a move on. “I never want to hear the words Sin City again. Sorry, Vegas, but I think you broke me.”
Yes, Carrie, Lynn, I completely agree with you.
Huh? I never thought those words would cross my mind.
***
The drive home feels longer than the one on the way here, and it’s way too quiet for me to get comfortable. Almost everyone sleeps the entire way. I pretend to sleep to avoid talking to Evan, but I’m too wired to actually fall asleep. I’m so angry with myself for getting into this mess and even angrier that I’m going to have to get myself out of it.
I plan on doing so when we arrive at Carrie Lynn’s. I make a plan to pull Evan aside and ask him to go for a drive with me so I can break the news to him. But the moment he parks the car in her driveway, he practically bolts, muttering something about having to get to work. By the time I get out of the car, he’s already in his car and peeling out of the driveway.
“What’s his deal?” Emersyn mutters as she heads around back to get her bag.
“I have no clue,” I say, but I can’t look her in the eye.
After I say my good-byes to everyone while staring at my feet, I climb into my car and drive toward home. I’m halfway there when I receive a text from my mom.
Mom: Hey, honey, just wanted to let you know that you might not want to come home for a few hours. There was an incident with some massaging oil and a candle that got a little out of hand. But, anyway, everything’s okay. We just have a huge mess to clean up, and we need to air out the place for an hour or two. Right now, it smells like burned hair.
I don’t even want to know why it smells like burned hair.
I steer the car off the main road and drive down the back roads to kill time. Needing some best friend talk time, I dial Sophie’s number and put it on speakerphone.
“You’re still alive.” She sounds so relieved. “Thank God.”
I turn right at an intersection and down a street lined with mismatched houses. “What do you mean, ‘I’m still alive?’ Were you worried the town killed me?” I try to laugh wickedly but miss the mark.
“No, I was worried about you after you called me last night and told me you met some random guy,” she says, slightly irritated. “You said you were in Vegas and you were about to show him your Miss Mini Lexi all night long, after he put a ring on your finger. Then you broke out in a very off-key version of what I’m guessing was “Here Comes the Bride.” "
“Sounds like I was pretty out of it.”
“You were. I was so worried. Still am.” Worry fills her tone. “Lexi, please tell me you didn’t get married last night, that you were just joking around.”
“Um, I didn’t get married last night. I was just joking around,” I say, but it sounds like a question.
“Oh. My. God. Lexi!” she shouts. “How could you? You got married? In Vegas. To some random guy?”
I huff out a deafening breath. “It wasn’t technically some random guy. He’s from Fairville … We used to go to school together.”
“So you married someone you know?” She seems calmer now.
I give her a recap of everything I can remember: the bachelorette party, the car ride down there, and how depressed I was feeling over being so behind in life. Then I tell her about Evan and how I used to know him: how he was sweet—still is—and how really, really trashed we were when we decided to get hitched.
“So you don’t think he remembers marrying you?” she asks after I’m finished.
“I don’t know. He seemed chill during the car ride, but then he got all squirrely when we made it home and took off like a guy running away from a girl he just accidentally married.” I park in front of some random house and rest my head on the steering wheel. “What am I going to do?