hat over the chair across, and as I make my way around the desk, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Everything from the neck up hurts now, and I feel like my head is about to explode.
Fuck.
What am I going to do?
How did I let chaos take over like this?
Without signing those divorce papers, my marriage to Belle would be bigamous. Instead of a successful ranch owner and businessman, I would be labeled a criminal.
Well, I should have thought of that before proposing. Before booking the church. Before making my fiancée promises I mean but can’t keep.
Can’t keep? What a load of crap.
Before I let myself sink any lower, I pick up the phone receiver and dial Belle’s number. Her father picks up.
Fantastic.
“Oh, sorry,” he speaks quickly. “She’s not home right now.”
“That’s fine. Would you have her call me back, please? The office number.”
“Sure.”
He always keeps it painfully short with me, but I am in no mood to analyze the old man now.
Sitting back in my chair, I rub my face with my palms and take a deep breath. Perhaps the time has come for me to get my shit together and finally consult a lawyer.
If I can finalize the divorce before the wedding, Belle doesn’t need to know. I am certain that she would never forgive me if she hears of this from anyone else. And if our marriage turns out to be a complete sham, I would undoubtedly lose her forever.
The thought of no longer having Belle in my life threatens to tear my world apart.
In such a short time, she has given me an aspiration for more that urges me to get out of bed in the morning. Her presence has replaced the emptiness and loathing that had consumed me, inspiring me to love my life, and giving meaning to the work I do and the accomplishments I achieve.
And now, because of one mistake, I face the possibility of her taking it all away, leaving me to once again endeavor to collect the broken pieces.
I don’t know if I can do it all over again.
Not this time.
Not getting over Belle.
The phone suddenly rings, prompting me to blink a few times.
“Hello?” Barely pulling my consciousness out of its dreadful abyss, I force my voice to be audible.
“Jeez! Who died?” Her concerned voice stimulates me.
“Uh—” I titter, “I was just too focused on a document here.”
“Is this a bad time? You called me earlier.”
“No. Yes! Yes… wanna have dinner at my place later?”
“Sure. Want me to bring anything?”
“Just yourself.”
“See you then. Good luck with work.”
“Thanks, babe.”
Setting down the receiver, I go back to meditating the prospect of keeping things as they are. I just won’t talk about it and hope it blows over. She may not even have read too much into Katie’s remark, to begin with. This could all just be my guilt playing tricks on me.
Leaning backward, I will my muscles into relaxing.
When all is said and done, what is marriage but a piece of paper signed by some government official who doesn’t know anything about our lives? Should we really allow something as technical as that to dictate how we exist or who we should love?
If Belle never hears of it, then what she does not know can’t possibly hurt her. I will be committed to her, heart and soul. Hers forever until the last day of my life. A faithful husband and the best father I know I can be. What more can I offer?
But then again, we live in a small town and many people knew my story. What if another tongue slip hits the target this time?
What then?
The thoughts sprout and multiply faster than my ability to keep up with them, and I resign to the fact that I can no longer focus on work.
I get up and go over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Pouring myself plenty, I try to introspect and really discern whether or not—on some level—I have already made up my mind.
Having lived with myself longer than anyone else, I know that I have the tendency to force my brain to explore possibilities deemed futile by my subconscious mind. It is a cruel exercise that aims to exalt me from all virtual responsibility, as I defend myself in front of the judge and jury of my own conscience.
Scoffing, I take a sip and wonder if Belle would ever be intimidated by the extent of complexity and overwhelming speed with