Page 11 of Betrothed To Love

“That strong but good ass THC drink. Half a can and I’m chill and relaxing. I gave her one to try,” Kyrah says and I remember drinking the small can before heading to the ball.

Shit!

“Half? You didn’t say half. It was only eight ounces. I drank the whole damn thing,” I scoff.

While grinning, Kyrah asks, “Who told you to do that? Not me! I told you I usually drink half. Plus, the directions on the back, Your Honor, say four ounces are one serving. Girl, a whole one should have knocked you on your ass.”

“It did more than that. It caused me to marry a complete damn stranger,” I blurt.

“What!” Alex and Kyrah yell.

“Bitch, excuse me!” Giselle exclaims.

The exaggerated looks on their faces and utter shock in their voices almost match my initial reaction. Almost. Obviously, mine was more dramatic, shocking, and heart stopping.

Shaking my head, I say, “You heard me. Married.”

“I just… Friend, help me understand… Bitch, what?” Giselle stammers and she is never lost for words.

“Are you sure?” Alex asks.

“Oh, I’m sure. There’s a whole fucking video,” I admit.

“I know you’re lying. Play it,” Kyrah says and I stand.

My phone, tote, and overnight bag are in the guest room I typically occupy after too many drinks on FNF. While leaving my friends befuddled, I journey downstairs to get my phone. As soon as I disconnect it from the charger, I see a text from an unknown number.

107-655-2240: This is Quintus.

107-655-2240: When you’re ready to talk this out, I am.

I don’t have the energy or desire to respond to him right now. I’m still not in the headspace to deal with him or our dynamic. I need to talk this craziness out with my girls first. They know me better than anyone else and their words, opinions, and thoughts mean the world to me.

When I make it back upstairs, Kyrah is up getting more corn nuggets and Alex is refreshing her drink with the bartender. Giselle is seated comfortably in her chair, eating and waiting on me. Of the four of us, we are the closest. I actually met Giselle my junior year of undergrad. She was recruiting girls for her new online business at The Quad, a popular spot near CFU. I saw her flyer and went. I had no idea what her business was. I simply saw free hookah, wings, and drinks for the first twenty-five girls to show, so I went. Living on scholarships and financial aid wasn’t easy, so every little thing helped.

Hating to be late to anything, I was one of the first five to arrive. That time before the main event allowed me to speak one on one with Giselle. Although she was six years older than me, we connected. She wasn’t a Crescent Falls native. In fact, she had just moved here two years prior. She was working at Black Ops Specialty in the customer service division but had plans of leaving to be her own boss.

I quickly learned she was starting an online escort service and looking for a variety of smart, beautiful women. While I was definitely a poor college student, I knew my end goal was law school, an internship at a prestigious law firm, and hopefully a seat on the bench one day. Being an escort was not for me. I was scared to risk someone finding out and ruining my legal career.

However, Giselle has the gift of gab and can talk anyone into something at least once. A few months later, she was in a bind. She enticed me into going on one date, dinner and drinks with an accountant for a thousand dollars. It was uncomfortable at first but I enjoyed myself until I spotted my grandparents’ neighbors at the restaurant. It was over for me, one and done, but she went on to build a million-dollar escort service. Thankfully, it didn’t end our friendship. We actually grew closer and she introduced me to Kyrah and Alex.

As soon as I’m back in my chair, she turns to me. “Are you okay?” she asks with so much concern.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I admit.

Kyrah and Alex bypass their normal seats. Kyrah sits in front of me and Alex sits next to her. They peer at me with anticipation.

“Play the damn video before I pass out,” Kyrah says.

“Okay,” I sigh, then sit up.

After opening my email and queuing the video, I press play and close my eyes. I don’t want to see their facial expressions. I don’t need to, their verbal expressions are enough. Kyrah gasps. Alexa sighs, and Giselle utters, “Shit. It’s real.”

“And he’s fine,” Kyrah says. “Is this how we find out your ass has been seeing someone?”

“Shh,” Alex pipes up. “I need to hear this.”

When their commentary and sounds cease and only me repeating the vows can be heard, I open my eyes and see all six of theirs glaring at me. The shock and awe on their faces mirror how I still feel, so I end the video.