My Fiancé Made Me Watch Their Wedding

I bought the dress three weeks ago. Soft blue, knee-length, with buttons down the front. Nothing fancy. I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard. I wanted to look like someone who was just doing something normal. Something easy. Getting married at City Hall was supposed to be easy.

I stood on the marble steps outside the Manhattan City Clerk's office and checked my phone again. Twenty minutes late. Brody was twenty minutes late.

The envelope in my purse felt heavy. Mom's discharge paperwork from yesterday. The hospice nurse had smiled when she handed it to me, but her eyes were tired. She didn't say how much time was left. Nobody ever said it out loud.

I pulled the envelope out and looked at it. The hospital logo at the top. Mom's name typed in neat black letters. Hannah Dunn. I folded it carefully and put it back.

This was the 99th time I'd asked Brody to marry me. I'd kept count without meaning to. The first time was two years ago, after Mom's diagnosis. I'd asked casually over dinner. He'd laughed and said we had plenty of time. The second time was a month later. Then a month after that. Then every few weeks. Then every week. Then every few days.

I stopped asking casually around attempt forty-seven. I started being direct. I need this. Mom needs this. Please.

He always had a reason. The firm was too busy. He had a big case. Macy needed him for something. There was always something.

But yesterday, he'd said yes. He'd looked at me across the table at our usual Thai place and said, 'Okay. Tomorrow. City Hall. I'll meet you there at ten.'

I'd almost dropped my fork.

Now it was ten twenty, and I was standing alone on the steps, and my phone was silent.

I looked up at the sound of footsteps. Brody was walking toward me. He was smiling. He wasn't alone.

Macy Lewis was on his arm. She was wearing a white sundress and holding a bouquet of daisies. She looked like a bride.

I stood very still.

Brody reached the top of the steps and stopped in front of me. He was still smiling. 'Hey, Lil. Sorry we're late. Traffic was insane.'

We. He said we.

Macy gave me a small, apologetic wave. 'Hi, Lily. I'm so sorry about this. I know it's weird timing.'

I looked at Brody. 'What's going on?'

He shifted his weight. 'So, look. Macy's been having some health stuff. Nothing serious, but she needs to get on better insurance. My firm's plan is really good, so we figured we'd just do a quick paper marriage. Just for the insurance. It's not a big deal.'

I stared at him. 'A paper marriage.'

'Yeah.' He nodded like this was reasonable. Like this made sense. 'It's just paperwork. It doesn't mean anything. We'll get it annulled in a year or whatever, and then you and I can do the real thing. With a ceremony and everything. You'll get your turn.'

Your turn.

I felt something crack open inside my chest. It didn't hurt. It was too big to hurt. It was just cold.

Macy touched his arm. 'Brody, we should go in. We're already late.'

'Right. Yeah.' He looked at me. 'You're okay with this, right? I mean, you get it. It's just practical.'

I didn't answer. I watched them walk past me, through the heavy glass doors, into the building where I'd been waiting for him. Where I'd been waiting for two years.

I stood on the steps for a long time. I don't know how long. People walked past me. A couple in matching T-shirts. An older man with a briefcase. A woman with a baby.

I reached into my purse and took out my earrings. Both of them. I held them in my palm for a second, then dropped them back inside.

Then I took out my phone.

I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I wanted. Victor Henderson. We'd gone to Harvard Law together. We'd been rivals ever since. He hated me. I hated him. We'd spent seven years trying to destroy each other in courtrooms and boardrooms and firm rankings.

I pressed call.

He picked up on the second ring. 'Lily.' His voice was clipped. Professional. 'I'm in the middle of a deposition.'

'Are you free in the next ten minutes to get married?'

Silence.

Then: 'Tell me where.'

I heard rustling. Footsteps. A door closing.

'Manhattan City Clerk's office,' I said. 'Downtown.'

'I'll be there in nine minutes.'

He hung up.

I sat down on the steps and waited.