Page 109 of Rock Me

"Beautiful. It was beautiful," her lip quivers and another full tear falls down her cheek. And I fall to my knees in front of her, taking her hands in mine.

"I owe you my life. Be with me for the rest of it."

My breath stills in my lungs until she answers.

"Yes."

***

She’s wearing white. The very first white dress we saw in the very first store we came across.

She pointed at it in the window, and I couldn’t do a thing but nod. Yes. Wear that.

I’m dressed in whatever the hell I was wearing when I dragged her from the hotel room.

And now we're here, standing outside this chapel, like we're drunken strangers on a dare.

Except, we're not. We're just in love.

"So, on a level of one to ten, ten being chased with a butterfly net by men in white coats, how crazy are we being right now?" She asks me, as we wait for them to ring up our chapel costs. Elvis is very present, and I’m trying not to wonder if they charged us extra for an officiant in costume.

“Well, from now on ten will be, ‘as crazy as Jez and Noémie were in Vegas,’” I answer and she laughs. “"Are we really doing this?"

"Do you not want to?” she turns to me. “Say it, and we're out of here."

"No. I want to," I lean over and kiss her. My soon-to-be wife.

"Not more than me." She smiles. "But... okay, let's be serious. Aren't there things we need to know about each other?"

"Like what?" I shrug.

"I don't know! Kids! Money! How you eat your hot dogs!" she asks, pulling things out of the air.

"Well, 1) sure, someday; 2) I have lots; and 3) mustard and onion with coke from a glass bottle."

She pokes her tongue out at me, “I said be serious!”

"I'm not kidding! Don't even think about putting ketchup on my hot dog!"

"Jez!”

I pull her to the empty seats in the waiting area. "Okay, what do you want to know that you don't already?"

"I don't know..." Her eyes are erratic, trying to think.

"Exactly," I lean over and kiss her. "Wait... how do YOU eat your hot dogs?"

"Ketchup all the way, baby."

"I have made a grave mistake." I hang my head.

"Seriously though... Jez. I don't have money. Like I so much don't have it, it's not even funny." She looks serious, so I want to reassure her.

"Noémie? When I met you, you had worked a sixteen-hour shift scooping beans. I didn't think you were doing that for fun."

"Don’t you want a... what are those things called...?”

"A pre-nup?"