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“You ready, man?” Grayson knocks on my bedroom door, breaking me out of my thoughts and peers around it before walking inside, looking dapper in a dark grey suit. Buttoning my cufflink, I look at my reflection in the mirror.Am I ready?
“I think so,” I say, staring at my reflection. Black suit, white shirt, black tie. I fiddle with the tie again, not sure why it’s not sitting right today.
“Nervous?” he asks with a laugh, gripping my shoulders and turning me before tugging out the knot and starting again.
“Thanks,” I reply when he’s done, shifting the loop that’s oddly starting to feel like a noose around my neck.We’re doing the right thing, right?“I didn’t think I would be because it’s a business arrangement, but…” I drift off, not really sure what I need to say. “Never mind.”
Grayson’s hand lands back on my shoulder, reassuringly squeezing. “If you’re having second thoughts, I have a getaway car.”
I huff a laugh because I know he’ll whisk me away if I need it. That’s the type of guy he is. I suck in a deep breath and remember why I’m doing this and who I’m doing it with, and the weight in my stomach settles. “Nah, I’m good. Let’s go. Can’t keep my bride waiting.”
Bride.And even though I’m a little nervous over this whole thing, picturing Zoey in a white dress tames the swarm of bees currently flying around my stomach, giving me the reassurance I need to prove this is right.
It takes us ten minutes to drive to Chelsea Old Town Hall. The big cream building with Grecian-style pillars stares at me. This is it. The place I’m saying I do.
Grayson goes ahead of me as we walk inside the building and are directed to a room with a long cream carpet to greet the registrar. We quickly go through some pre-wedding questions before she disappears off into a side room to interview Zoey, too.
“Hey, Harrison?” I turn to face Grayson, my back now to the aisle. I don’t know if I ever thought I’d be stood here, especially not with Zoey Bancroft of all people. But nothing feels out of place. I hate crowds, I wouldn’t want a big wedding and this feels right. Just me, Zoey Grayson and Nora. And now, I’m overthinking it again. Am I in too deep here? Why does this feel so right? It’s just an arrangement. I have to remind myself several times before it actually sinks in.
Grayson moves to adjust my tie again. I tip my chin to give him more room, grateful for the distraction. “I’m gonna need you to take a breath because you look like you might puke. And dude, these shoes are my favourite, so I’d rather not have your sick all over them.”
A smile breaks over my face, and I exhale. “I won’t puke, promise.” I wring my hands and straighten the cuffs of my shirt again.
“Then stop fidgeting,” he says, smacking my hands away and quickly straightening my sleeves. “You’ve got this. I believe in you. You can do it.”
“You know, reeling off bad motivation quotes isn’t helping. Pretty sure if you finally grow a pair and ask Nora to marry you and were this nervous, I’d be nothing but a pillar of support.”
“Yeah, but my wedding would be real,” he deadpans, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Besides, who’s even saying I’d ask you to be my best man?”
“Fuck you, man. It’s not too late for me to change my fake best man, y’know.”
“Okay, sorry. I’ll shut up and we’ll just get you married,” he retorts, just as the registrar returns to the room.
Classical music filters from the speakers around the room, and I turn to watch the doors a few feet away open to reveal Nora and Zoey and just like that, my heart thunders in my ribcage. Unlike my imagined picture of Zoey, a classy light pink trouser suit hugs her in all the right places. Her makeup is minimal, her hair is straight, brushing the tops of her shoulders. She’s beautiful.
The organ in my chest creates a staccato rhythm as she walks towards me. Time stands still when she reaches me with a smile and a wink. “You ready, mountain man?” she whispers, handing her sweet smelling bouquet of wildflowers to Nora before she stands next to me, brushing her little finger against mine.
“Today marks a new beginning in two lives together. I thank you both for being here to witness their wedding vows and celebrate their marriage.” The registrar nods to Grayson and Nora. “Who gives this woman to this man?”
Nora steps forward. “I do.”
“Marriage is a commitment not only vested in love but friendship, mutual respect and calls for honesty, care, patience, and of course, humour. A good partner will be loving, caring and above all, a true friend…” Words slowly become a distant hum as Zoey’s bright blue eyes look into mine, a small smile tugging at her lips as her pinky finger brushes against mine again. The contact is so soft, yet it feels like I’ve been hit by a live wire. Suddenly, I want to wrap my whole hand with hers, feel the warmth of her skin against mine, but is that even appropriate? Would she want that? Would she flinch at my touch and pull away, making it obvious that this is fake? Is marriage fraud even a thing? Shit, should we have been holding hands right from the start?
“Please take each other’s hands and face one another,” the registrar says, breaking into my panicked thoughts. Zoey slots her hands into mine where they fit perfectly, and I feel the questions from earlier disappear as a calm settles over me. “Harrison, will you take Zoey to be your lawful wedded wife. To share your life with her and comfort her in whatever the future may bring?”
“I will.”
The remainder of the ceremony goes off without a hitch. Both of us promise our future to one another with ease, as though we’ve been together for years and this is a mere formality. It feels… real, and I need to remind myself that it isn’t. Grayson passes us the rings we bought in Vegas. We lock eyes and an understanding passes through us. We’re doing this, and we’re in this together.
Fake wedding? Nailing it.
Zoey
“You may now kiss the bride.”
I hesitate because I’d forgotten that we’d have to kiss. That Harrison’s lips, the very ones I have been fantasising about, would be on mine.
Before I can think, Harrison takes a step towards me. His big hands cupping my face as though he’s done it a million times before and the entire room fades away. The only thing I can feel is his warmth against my skin, and all I can hear is the hammering of my heart. “Hey, Mrs Clarke,” he whispers before he takes my mouth in a searing kiss that forces me to grasp onto him to stay upright.
