is hell. Money doesn’t buy happiness or orgasms.
When it comes time to walk down the aisle, I reek of cinnamon and booze. Dad gives me a once-over, and I see a flash of concern on his face when I nearly trip over my heels, but he doesn’t say anything. He didn’t want me to go through with this, but I put my foot down. Losing the house and cottage wasn’t an option, and I explained that several times. As soon as the wedding song plays, I wish I would’ve brought the Fireball with me because I could use another shot. I wear a fake smile and continue forward, one foot at a time, knowing what I have to lose and gain.
The ceremony passes by in a flash, which I’m thankful for. I don’t remember anything that happens during. I don’t recall his mouth pressing against mine or the photographer snapping a hundred photos. Afterward, I go straight to the bar and order more shots. Though Everleigh and Katie are concerned for me, they encourage and join in. Robert’s friends and family stare, but I don’t give two shits what they think. Instead, I’m determined to be the life of the party, even if it’s in my head, and I’m happy to give his boring, stuck-up rich friends something to talk about. Robert scolds me like a child when we dance, but I don’t care.
You only get married once, right? The thought has me laughing because all of this is a damn disaster.
If he wants to have sex with me, I’ll be so drunk I won’t remember his hands on me. When the world tilts, and I feel like I need to throw up, I realize I’ve accomplished my goal. A mischievous grin spreads across my face as he’s forced to keep me from falling on my ass. The cusses at me for ruining our wedding night, but for me, it’s mission accomplished. Tonight, I win—not Robert—regardless of what he thinks.
Monday morning comes quickly, and I’m determined to make Robert keep his word despite not being able to consummate our marriage. He suggested we could Sunday night, but I told him I still felt hungover and nauseous. That was enough to make him walk away.
I get up and dress for work, but he’s already gone by the time I roll over. He told me he’d meet me at the notary office, so I’m going to make sure I’m not late. If he tried to get out of signing the paperwork today, there’d be no honeymoon. Rumors would spread like wildfire, and he’d have to create more lies to cover that lie. Considering he invited nearly five hundred people to the ceremony and bragged about where we were going, everyone would be suspicious if it was suddenly canceled. I acted surprised and excited when he announced it on stage, and they all stupidly bought it. He continued on about the first-class tickets to Hawaii and the private villa he rented, and I was the envy of all the single women. Knowing how many people witnessed what took place still gives me hives, but he’s always wanted to be the center of attention. He finally got what he wanted and me being sloppy drunk is what he deserved.
Just as he promised, he meets me at eight with the drafted deed agreement his lawyer finalized. I told Dad I had some errands to run this morning and would be late to work.
When we enter, the woman and all her jingly bracelets and big blond hair greets us. She pulls out her official stamps and looks through the paperwork, then asks for our driver’s licenses.
“I haven’t changed my information yet,” I explain.
Robert glares at me. “Why haven’t you?”
“Sweetheart…” My tone is venomous. “It’s only Monday. We’ve been married for two days. Don’t worry, I plan on taking care of it before we leave for the honeymoon.”
“All documents have to be signed in your full legal name and need to match what’s on your license,” the clerk informs me.
“That’s fine,” I confirm.
“Maybe we should wait until you get an updated social security card and can go down to the DMV and change your license.”
I narrow my eyes. “That won’t be necessary.” Leaning over, I whisper, “A deal is a deal. Don’t make me cause a scene.”
He acts as if I just slapped him across the face, even if my voice was only loud enough for him to hear. The smile on the woman’s face doesn’t falter,