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She got in next to me and turned on her side.

“Thanks for coming over. And for having this ridiculous idea. I know I was reluctant at first, but I’m on board now. I’m not going to lie, I’m a tiny bit excited to get proposed to, even if it isn’t real. I wonder what my future husband is going to think about that when I tell him I was married before him.” When she mentioned a future husband, a sharp pain went through my chest.

“If he does mind, then he’s not the right guy for you.” I could barely get the words out. I didn’t want to talk about this.

“That’s so far in the future. I’m not planning on getting married until I’m a least thirty. That still feels like it’s so far away, even though it’s only seven years.” Her eyes drifted closed and she yawned again. I hoped she was falling asleep so we could stop having this conversation.

“Let’s just get through the fake marriage first,” I said, and she nodded.

“Goodnight,” she said opening her eyes one more time. I was closest to the light, so I got up and turned it out before crawling back into bed with her. She’d scooted over so we were almost pressed against each other. The bed was big enough, but I didn’t mind her being that close. We’d always cuddled when we were kids and had even shared sleeping bags dozens of times. I knew the sounds she made in her sleep. The little whimpers when she was having a dream, or the little sighs, or the tiny snores when her nose was a little bit stuffy.

I’d slept in the same space with Cara hundreds of times before. So why did it feel different tonight? I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling and wondering why I couldn’t sleep. I was aware of every single breath Cara took, every single little movement she made. I could barely breathe myself, and I kept as still as I could so I didn’t disturb her.

What was wrong with me? This had nothing to do with pizza.

I let my mind wander and gave up on sleep after a few hours. It finally latched on one thing: the proposal. I thought of at least a hundred different ways I could do it, but none were right. Why was I spending so much time on this? I didn’t know, but I wanted it to be good. Even if it was fake. It would be good practice for the future, maybe. So far this fake marriage thing had been pretty good. Maybe the real thing wouldn’t be so bad, either. Or maybe I was just being a huge dork and was wrong about everything. That was also a huge possibility.

At one point, Cara made a little grunt in her sleep and wiggled closer to me. I froze, worried if I moved, I would wake her up. She nuzzled right into my shoulder and sighed in her sleep.

Carefully, I turned a little so her head was tucked more fully into my body. She was warm, and it was a hot night, but I didn’t care. I’d sweat my brains out before I would move.

Sighing myself, I let my face rest against the top of her head, and finally my body decided it was time to shut down.

Five

I didn’t propose the next day. Or the next. I kept the ring with me at all times, even when I was in the shower. It was too small for my ring finger, so sometimes I put it on my pinky. I had no idea what Cara was doing with my ring, but neither of us had mentioned them, and the longer we went like that, the bigger the rings seemed to grow, until I finally just decided to do it.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’s not like it’s real. Or is it for you?” Ansel asked, when I’d complained to him about it. I figured I needed someone not involved with the situation to talk to about it. I’d considered some of my other friends, but Cara and I were closest to Ansel, so it made sense to burden him with both of our issues.

“No, it’s not real, are you high? It’s literally just for the money and just on paper. Cara has been my best friend forever. Friend. I don’t think of her that way. Plus, she doesn’t like girls. Remember?” Ansel smirked, as if he didn’t believe me.

“What are you saying? That I’m secretly in love with her and I created this need for money so I can marry her and seduce her into falling in love with me? You’re giving me way too much credit, dude.” I wasn’t some criminal mastermind from some movie. I was just a broke girl who had a broke friend who needed to marry her so they could be un-broke. Simple.

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