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What's the point of considering things that may or may not happen? Making decisions at any given moment is hard enough without having to factor in multiple other scenarios.
Life isn’t a “choose your own adventure” book. You’re lucky even to get one choice because most of the time, it feels like you have no choice at all.
I didn’t get a choice in my father leaving.
I didn’t get a choice in him not wanting to see us.
I didn’t get a choice that my brother has daily struggles that I wish so badly I could make all go away for him.
I can’t live in what-ifs.
They only lead to disappointment and misplaced hope.
“He won’t want to stay together in two years so there’s no point in considering it,” I tell her.
I walk over and set her plate down in front of her with the piping hot breakfast sandwich.
“You can’t know that,” she says, lifting the glass of orange juice and taking a sip.
“He’ll be ready to move on by then. The divorce rate for professional athletes ranges between sixty to eighty percent. He won’t stick around,” I tell her, even though I know that I just gave her more ammo to use against me.
She thinks I’m a flight risk when it comes to relationships because of my experience with my father.
Maybe in previous relationships, I jumped a little prematurely, but Ryker doesn’t count as a relationship. This is no more than a business deal.
“I just don’t want you closed off to the possibility of what could happen just because of what happened between your parents,” she says lifting her sandwich from the plate. “Ryker’s proposal didn’t look like a man trying to find his way out.”
“He wanted to make a splash to make it seem real for the immigration appointment we have tomorrow.”
“Your appointment is tomorrow? And then what?”
“If we get approved… we get married,” I say, the words wanting to clog my throat.
The weight of the fact that I might be getting married in a matter of days is feeling as real as the ring he put on my finger.
I don’t know what has me more nervous. The idea of marrying a total stranger or the possibility that we’ll be outed and I’ll be playing Texas Hold’em with my brother over a video screen from jail.
“Have you thought about where you want to have the wedding? I can call around and see what venues we can book—”
“No, we won’t need any of that. We’ll go down to city hall,” I tell her, turning around back to the counter for my sandwich.
It’s weird to be an event planner on not plan my dream wedding. But with the turnaround of a few days, the courthouse is our best option.
Besides, my dream wedding should be reserved for the man I say “I do”, and mean it forever.
“Really? City hall? Are you ok with this?” she asks.
“Of course. The marriage certificate is just part of the arrangement… it means nothing.”
I look over at the time of the stove.
This morning got away from me with Shawnie’s impromptu visit.
I still have to get across town to drop off the check and sign the lease for Jerrin and then meet Ryker at the immigration office.
“I really have to get ready and get out of here. See yourself out?” I ask, already making my way out of the small kitchen, headed for my bedroom on the other side of the apartment with my breakfast sandwich in my hand.
“Yep, call after your appointment. I want to know how it goes.”
