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And then, in the span of less than ten minutes, and without fainting, I’d happily become Mrs. Gabe Hawkins.
I was never the kind of girl who planned out my wedding day to the smallest detail. Given my preference for planning almost everything in my life, I realize how strange that sounds. But the simple truth was, I never held out even a single shred of hope it would happen to me.
So when it did, the entire experience caught me by surprise, and for the first time in my life, I had to take life as it came. It was a liberating and frightening experience at once, but one that I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Once the formalities concluded, Gabe and I spent the next several hours rejoicing and celebrating with our friends. Yet, as with all things, this celebration eventually came to an end.
One by one, our guests left the suite, and before long he and I were alone together, for the first time as man and wife. As the last of them departed, Gabe reached inside his white linen jacket and produced a folded piece of paper.
“Here, Fiona,” he said, as he extended it towards me. “Sign this.”
I took it from his hand.
“What is it?”
“It’s a prenuptial agreement,” he replied, with a causal tone. “Our marriage won’t be legal until you agree to the terms of it.”
Shaking my head, I looked at him.
“I don’t care about any of this, Gabe.”
“I know,” he replied. “That’s why you need to sign it.”
I shook my head and placed the paper flat, scribbling my signature on the line as Gabe pointed at it.
“Here,” I said, as I handed it back to him.
Gabe took the paper from me and scanned it for moment or so.
“My, my,” he said as he studied the page. “You’re quite the generous one aren’t you?”
Confused, I frowned as I looked at him.
“What are you talking about? All I did was sign the agreement you asked me to sign.”
“Mmm, hmm... Actually, no,” he replied, as he studied the page. “What you signed was the room service tip. Gabe brought the page closer to his face and continued, “And, it looks as if you tipped about fifty percent!”
Room service bill? Fifty percent?
Shaking my head, I looked at him and asked, “What are you talking about?”
Gabe leaned back and as he did a deep belly laugh sputtered from between his lips.
“Well, it looks as if the next forty years of my life will be as enjoyable as the last four months.”
As he finished speaking, Gabe tossed the paper to one side, and it sailed to the ground. Afterward, he leaned in towards me and wrapped his hands around my forearms.
“Fiona, all I have is yours. Without you in my life, everything I’ve built is meaningless. Money is fleeting but the love we share will last forever.”
I looked at him for a moment or so as the reality of his prank settled in upon me. Just then, I realized this was his way of telling me how much he loved me.
“Hmm,” I began, as I arched an eyebrow at him. “Forever is a long time.”
As I finished speaking, I glanced past him at the piece of paper on the floor and said, “I think I might need to see that one more time.”
“If you bend over,” he said, with a stern tone in his voice. “You’ll find out just how long forever is.”
Looking back at him, I hiked up my dress, exposing myself to him.
“Promise?” I teased.
