Breaking Down

Chapter 11

11

Gabi

It was like my voice wouldn’t leave my throat. There was a stone stuck there and it was blocking everything. Even air.

This was it. I was getting married. Even though it was fake, even if we divorced later, I would have married this man, this handsome man standing by my side. If—when—I married some other guy for love later, it would always be my second marriage.

“Gabi?” Tyler whispered, his eyes wide.

But it was this or I wouldn’t be able to live in the U.S. I wouldn’t have the freedom to pursue my dream, and I would do anything for my dream, even temporarily marrying a stranger.

“I do,” I finally said, breathless. “Sorry, I’m … feeling emotional,” I added with a small smile for Mr. Osment. “I do,” I repeated, louder and clearer.

Mr. Osment narrowed his eyes, but continued, “Do you promise to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

This time I didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

“Okay, that’s great, now face each other and join your hands.” Tyler and I turned to each other. He extended his hands to me. I dropped my bouquet on the table and then rested my hand in them, aware that I was shaking like a leaf in the wind. Gently, Tyler squeezed my hands, as if telling me it was okay. The man opened the black velvet box with the wedding bands and turned it to Tyler. “Now, Tyler, repeat after me while placing the band on her finger. I, Tyler, take you, Gabriela, …”

The man went on reciting the same sentence he said before, just this time Tyler had to recite it all while holding my shaking hands and looking into my eyes. His hazel eyes were bright and slightly scared. I bet mine were a mirror of his. Despite the fear stamped on our faces, we held on. We stared into each other’s eyes and held on tight.

Tyler plucked the thin band from the box and slowly slid the band onto my finger. It fit with the engagement ring perfectly.

Then, I repeated the same words and put the wedding band on Tyler’s finger. His band was slightly wider than mine—the attendant at the jewelry store had told me men liked them that way, so I went with that.

“By the authority vested in me by the state of California,” Mr. Osment said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss.”

My eyes went wide. Kiss? Who said anything about kissing? Meu Deus, of course there would be kissing. Droga, why hadn’t I thought of that before? I would have prepared myself for this.

Tyler squeezed my hand once more, and I cut the crazy words hemorrhaging in my brain.

This was just a kiss. I had kissed a few guys before. This was no big deal.

He tugged at my hand and I nodded, trying to relax. With his eyes on mine, Tyler took the lead. He stepped in and leaned down to me. He let go of one of my hands and cupped my cheek as his warm lips pressed against mine. He held on for four seconds—I counted—before letting go.

Warmth spread through my cheeks.

“All right, that’s done,” Mr. Osment said, flipping a paper on the table toward us. This was the man’s job. He did this a few dozens of times each day. He didn’t really care about our feelings right now. He certainly wouldn’t care how I felt like running and hiding under a blanket. “Now, please, Lenna, our witness, sign here.” The blonde leaned over the table and signed the paper. “Now, you two sign here.”

Composed, Tyler caught the pen from the table and handed it to me. Forcing a small smile, I took the pen from him and poised the pen to sign. My hand still shook, and I had to let out a long breath and try to relax before signing the paper. Then I gave Tyler the pen and he signed.

There. It was done.

“Okay,” Mr. Osment said, picking up the paper. “I’m going to go register your license and make your certified copy, and then I’ll be back in a moment. Meanwhile, Carol will take some pictures of you two.”

“Thank you,” Tyler said.

“Thank you so much,” I said automatically.

“You’re welcome.” Mr. Osment nodded and walked away into the courthouse.

Carol stepped in front of us with a big smile. “I already took a few pictures of you two during the ceremony, but now I would like a few posed pictures here in the garden.” She gestured to some bushes to our side. “Stand here, facing each other. Gabriela, you’re holding the bouquet with one hand, the other hand you give it to Tyler. Tyler I want you to reach for Gabriela’s waist.” We did as we were told. “Now look at each other. Let me see the love.”

What love? This woman was dreaming.

These pictures were part of my golden ticket for my green card. I had to appear happy, satisfied during these pictures. I smiled wide, thinking of my green card, and more importantly, thinking of polo.

Tyler, on the other hand, had a tight-lipped smile, but it was okay. We could blame nerves.

Carol guided us through a few more pictures around the garden and all of the pictures had us touching each other, sometimes holding hands, other times we were in a half-embrace, or with my back against his chest, and almost all the pictures had us looking at each other lovingly.

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Osment came back with a white envelope. “All right, I have your certificate of marriage ready for you.”

“Great,” Tyler said, his voice tight. “It’s official.”

“It is.” Mr. Osment handed the envelope to Tyler. “Please check to see if your names are spelled right.” Tyler pulled the certificate from the envelope and he held it between us.

Tyler nodded, returning the certificate to the envelope. “It all looks good.”

“Then congratulations.” Mr. Osment shook our hands. “You guys are all done.”

“Great, thanks,” Tyler said.

I tried for a smile. “Thanks.”

Tyler grabbed my hand and we walked out of the courthouse as a married couple.

Meu Deus, meu Deus, meu Deus, meu Deus.

I was married. I was a married woman.

I couldn’t believe I had done it. I had gone through with it.

The silence was thick inside Tyler’s truck as he drove me back to the store, where I would return the rented dress and put on my clothes that I had left there.

Like before, Tyler stopped the car in the no-parking spot in front of the store.

He turned slightly to me. “So …”

I swallowed hard. “So …”

“We’re married now.”

“Sim.” Meu Deus, I was married. I wondered how much time I needed to get my brain wrapped around that. “I’m freaking out,” I confessed in a whisper. He let out a low chuckle and I gaped at him. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s not funny,” he said as his chuckle faded. “It’s … I don’t know what it is, but I’m freaking out too.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t look like it.”

“I’m trying to remain calm so I won’t scare you.”

A tiny smile took over my lips. “Bem, thanks.” My half-smile fell and I turned more toward him. “You don't regret it, right?”

“No.” He gave one sharp shake of his head. “Not yet, at least.”

I snorted. “Wait until I have my stuff all over your apartment. You’ll regret then.”

One corner of his lips tugged up. “I might.”

“Bem, even if you do, I want to thank you for taking the deal and going through this crazy thing with me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said simply.

“So, hm, I’ll see you later?”

He nodded. “Five at the apartment, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great.” I opened the door and got out. The last thing I needed was to ruin the dress. But … the bouquet. It was so pretty, I didn’t want to throw it away, but I couldn’t take it home either. “Would you mind taking this with you?” He stared as I deposited the bouquet onto the passenger seat. “Take it to your place and put it in a vase or a glass with water.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding a little wary.

“Great. Thanks.” I closed the truck’s door and stepped back, waiting for him to take off, but he stayed there, watching me. Self-consciousness wrapped around me and, after turning around, I bolted into the store.

The same attendant came to greet me. “Back already.”

“Yes. We have a flight to catch and we can’t waste time,” I lied, thinking of my real flight tomorrow night. I had to do something about that.

She guided me to the dressing room where I slipped into a stall. I reached for the zipper on the back, but caught my reflection in the mirror and stopped. It was silly of me, but I liked how this dress made me look, how it accentuated my curves and made me look like a gorgeous, strong woman.

Maybe it was my emotions running high, maybe it was the moment, or maybe it was the craziness in my head, but I slowly took off the dress, folded it on a hanger, put on my clothes from before, and walked to the front of the store to buy my rented wedding dress.