Alex slumps with relief.
I know I should feel the same, that I shouldn’t want to be legally bound to someone I just met, but I can’t help wishing for something to tie us together. Once we leave this office, there’s only the short car ride back to the hotel, then there will be no reason to see each other again. Maybe we can stay in touch, exchange emails and video calls, maintain a long-distance friendship. More likely, Alex will want to distance himself from the mistake we almost made. After all, it’ll be a lot harder to reconcile with his ex-girlfriend if he’s still friends with his almost-husband.
“So you’ll have to talk to the clerk.”
Alex’s relief is short-lived. He blinks at the employee, then looks at me, as if he needs me to translate.
“If we’re not married, why do we need to speak to the clerk?” I ask.
“Well, you’re not technically marriedyet. With online marriages, the clerk has to review all the documentation, including the application, the government identification for both of you, and the marriage ceremony video supplied by the company. If all of that is approved, your marriage will be official.”
“Can we ask them to ignore it?” Alex asks. “Tell them ‘never mind.’”
“I don’t know,” the employee replies, shrugging and offering his empty hands to show his lack of solutions. “That’s why you’ll have to talk to her.”
“Can we talk to hernow?”
“I’ll have to check if she’s available,” the employee says, typing something into the computer.
Alex looks like he wants to crawl over the counter and storm the office door. I reach for him, though I don’t touch him yet, my hand hovering over his hip. After a few seconds, the tension in him uncoils, and he leans toward me, naturally seeking support. It’s taking all my willpower not to close the distance between us, wrap him up in my arms, and hide him away from all his worries.
“Alright, it looks like she’ll have some time for you this morning, if you want to take a seat.”
Alex’s mouth is screwed up too tight to release any words, so I thank the employee and nudge Alex toward the chairs farthest from the counter.
He slumps down into one, rests his elbows on his knees, and drops his head into his hands. “Fuck, this is going to take longer than I’d hoped.”
“Are you worried about work?”
He nods and runs a hand through his hair, mussing his curls. “I hate being late, and we have no idea how long this will take.”
“Maybe you should call off,” I suggest gently.
He grimaces and tilts his head toward me. “I haven’t called off in like, a year.” At my surprised look, he explains, “I take vacations, I just don’t call off sick unless I literally can’t get out of bed.”
“Because you don’t want to inconvenience anyone?” I ask.
He sighs and shifts his position to lean back in the small plastic chair instead. “Yeah, and because I hate the way work piles up. I probably have two meetings today, a dozen emails already waiting in my inbox from the early birds, plus paperwork to approve. It’s not very impressive, but it’s work that needs to get done.”
“I think an accidental marriage is a good reason to take a day off.”
He’s quiet as he considers that, then he pulls out his phone and types up a message. It doesn’t take long for him to receive a reply. He stares at it for a long time, brow furrowed.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
That snaps him out of it, and he slips his phone back into his pocket. “They said to feel better. I don’t know what else I expected.”
“What do you do?” As we talk, his fidgeting settles, like he needed something to concentrate on other than the wait.
“I’m a Purchasing Manager.” His lips lift into something that barely resembles a smile. “It sounds fancier than it is.” His knee bumps against mine and stays there, a hint of his presence. I don’t know if it’s an intentional move or if he’s naturally drawn into my space. Any time we’re this close to each other it’s a struggle not to touch him casually.
The young employee finishes with his current client and calls out to us, “Alex, Euan, the clerk has time to speak with you now.”
Alex grabs my hand and squeezes it once before he stands up. “Let’s go get unmarried.”
Chapter Eleven: Alex
When we step into the clerk’s office, my first thought is:we are in the wrong fucking place.Every surface is covered in wedding photos and paraphernalia. White bunting decorating the front of her desk says: ‘Just married.’ From the aged look of it, ‘just’ was a long time ago.
