“Still, he could probably help you. I bet he has contacts and stuff like that.”
“Maybe, but at this point, why bother? It’s almost over.”
Lacey nudged me, grinning. “You sure you want to divorce him? I mean, I remember what he looked like.”
I thought for a second. Flashes of Cole’s body as he walked from the ocean, dripping salt water, his eyes looking at me both playfully and intensely.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, not sure at all.
“What a shame. Waste of prime real estate, if you ask me.”
“Who knows if it’s a waste? He’s gone and I’ll never see him again.”
Which was exactly how it was supposed to be. But one stupid night, half drunk on wine and half drunk on each other, we had stumbled into this Vegas-style marriage chapel. Normally, the marriages were just for fun, a kind of fake ceremony to make couples feel good about themselves.
But we ordered the “deluxe” package. Cole said that if we were getting married, then we were doing it right, and how could I argue with him?
What we didn’t know, of course, was that the Deluxe Package meant we were marrying legally. The staff probably did try to explain that at one point, but we were either too giddy to listen or just too stupid.
And so when I got home and tried to register to vote, I got a nice little surprise. In the field for “Marital Status” in the official records website I was browsing, I saw a nice big fat “M.” After a bunch of phone calls, and at least two total meltdowns, I found out that I had been legally married in Thailand to one Mister Cole Redson.
Of course, once I figured it out, I tried to track him down. I tried everything, but Cole Redson basically didn’t exist. I knew he was an MMA fighter, but there were no records of him fighting under that name. I found an old address, but he had moved away from that place a long time ago. I decided not to do too much research about him, because I could tell I was already starting to obsess. I decided I needed to just get the divorce pushed through, with or without him.
Cole Redson had just disappeared. He’d swept into my life during a stupid spring break to Thailand and then had disappeared again, leaving me a married woman and a wreck.
Fortunately, though, all I needed to do was prove that I had tried everything to find him, wait the required amount of time, publish a notice in the newspaper, and then I’d be rid of him. No more husband, no more problems.
“I still can’t believe you actually married him,” Lacey said, probably for the millionth time.
I gave her a look and she grinned at me. “What? I’m just saying.”
“I know. You’ve been saying it for almost a year now,” I grumbled.
She cackled again and I sighed, dipping my head. I knew I deserved the jokes. Frankly, I felt like a total idiot. I mean, how did you end up married without even realizing it? And to a total stranger, apparently one that didn’t even exist?
How stupid did I have to be?
“Anyway,” Lacey said, sipping her drink. “This summer won’t be a total bust, you know? I am making it my mission to get you back on the whores.”
I looked at her. “It’s ‘horse,’ not ‘whores.’”
“No. In this instance it’s definitely ‘whores.’ You need to get laid, and soon.”
I smiled and shook my head. Lacey could think like a guy sometimes.
“I don’t need to get laid, Lace. I’m just in a dry spell.”
“Yeah, a year-long dry spell. Come on, it’s time to make moves. Your husband isn’t really your husband.”
She was right and I knew it. Still, the last year had been busy. I’d switched majors the year before, and so I spent both my semesters overloading my schedule to make up the required credits.
Plus, I felt strange putting myself out there again. The last time I went for a stranger, I ended up married to a guy that may or may not exist. The frat boy douches and college hipsters just didn’t do anything for me, or at least not enough to make me want to step outside my shell.
But my divorce was coming up soon. By the end of the summer I was going to be single again, at least legally speaking.
Cole wasn’t my husband. He never was. How could he be my husband if I didn’t even know where he lived?
“We’ll see,” I mumbled.
“We will see. All those guys you’re going to bang.”
I rolled my eyes as she laughed at her own joke.
I wasn’t looking forward to going home, but maybe it would be good for me. U.C. Berkeley was nice and all, but it wasn’t home.
Maybe I just needed a relaxing summer to get back to myself.
A few days later, my cab pulled up outside my house. Dad wasn’t home, of course, because he was working late. But he promised he’d be back soon, and with my new stepmother.