want to die not being married to the woman I love. And I want us to be able to make medical decisions for each other in the event that something happens to us.”
She bit her lip. “The thought of my mom having total say does scare me a little bit, actually.”
I grinned. I knew it would. “Also, the tax benefits for married couples are pretty generous.”
“That is true.” She smiled at me, her beautiful face light and open. “I have to say you make a pretty good argument. Do you need citizenship? Or maybe you need me to help you move a body and you don’t want me to be able to testify? Because if you did, I think that would clinch the deal.”
I pulled her closer. “Marry me. Now. Today. Let’s go down to city hall and just do it.”
Say yes. Please, say yes.
She shrugged. “Okay.”
My heart exploded in my chest. “Yes?”
She bit her lip and smiled. “Yeah, I can’t really argue with the pros list.” Her brow wrinkled. “But what about your family? They won’t be mad you’ve run off and married some random woman?”
Fuck my family—and I meant that in the most loving possible way—but my family was the last thing I was thinking about at the moment. I wouldn’t be able to relax until Kristen was my wife. None of this was real or certain until we were married.
This first, family and taking deep breaths later.
I shook my head. “My parents already married off six daughters. They’re relieved they don’t have to do another wedding. I already told them what I planned to do. We can go home for a party whenever we’re ready.”
“Oh!” She bounced up and down. “Can we get our wedding rings at the Pulp Fiction pawnshop?”
I smiled, a cautious excitement seeping in. “Anything you want.” I checked my watch. “If we want to do this today, we have to get going. You can probably take a few minutes to change.”
“Okay, and I’ll call Sloan,” she said, reaching for her phone.
My stomach dropped. I knew this was coming, and my heart ached preemptively with what I had to tell her. I put a hand to her wrist. “Kristen,” I said gently. “Sloan knows that I was going to propose to you. She doesn’t want to be there.”
Her happiness bled out in front of me, and my own joy at the situation sank. I hated to see her hurting. I wished I could give her all the things she wanted today. But Sloan wasn’t for sale.
I looked at her softly. “She’s supportive. She was rooting for me. She asked me to text her with your answer. But she can’t go to a wedding.”
She swallowed hard and nodded, her brown eyes glossing just enough to make my heart break. “No. She wouldn’t be able to handle it. Of course.” She smiled up at me, weakly this time, trying to put on a good face. I loved her for it. But I knew how deeply this hurt her. It hurt me too.
We finally had each other, but both of us had lost our best friends.
FORTY
Kristen
We sat on brown wooden benches on opposite sides of the hallway of the courthouse, waiting for our names to be called. We’d gotten our marriage licenses and rings and managed to get the last appointment of the day for a civil ceremony.
It cost thirty-five dollars to be married by a justice of the peace, plus an extra twenty bucks for two court-assigned witnesses we didn’t know to sign our marriage certificate.
I didn’t have flowers or a cake. I wasn’t in a wedding dress. My ring was so loose I’d had to put tape around it to keep it on. It rained on us in the parking lot. We wouldn’t have a first dance or photos or the mawage guy. My best friend wouldn’t stand next to me and neither would his.
It was the lamest, saddest wedding in the history of weddings—and I was so excited about it I couldn’t stop smiling.
Now that I’d let it go, I realized how exhausting my crusade had been. Like fighting to stay awake when you want to just let go and slip into a dream.
Letting him love me was natural and easy—it was keeping him away from me that was hard. It had drained me to the core, taken everything out of me, and I was relieved that it was over.
Josh wore the brewery shirt from the day we met, under a sport coat, and