Ch 3: I do

“Whenever you’re ready.” the officiator tells us tiredly, his voice telling me this is not his first nor twelfth wedding of today.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” I mutter feeling my stomach knot. Is this what they call wedding blues? I tighten the hold on my flowers.

“I can’t believe this is happening!.” Cassy yells excited from behind me fixing my white sparkly gown—it’s not nothing dramatic, just a simple but stunning silk slip that shimmered faintly in the soft light.

This was happening. Fast. Real.

I stand in front of this impossibly good looking stranger and I’m able to see his face—in bright light now.

I nod at the man on the alter, telling him I’m ready ignoring the hammering of my heart.

The officiant glanced at the paperwork, then looked up with a practiced smile.

“Andrew Thorne, please repeat after me…”

I froze. Andrew. That was the name of the man I was marrying. The stranger who got me in this reckless mess.

His eyes met mine—calm but unreadable. What is he thinking right now in this moment.

The rest of his words echo in the chapel, it was all gold light and white roses—quiet, expensive, and way too perfect for what we were about to do. I felt like I’d walked into someone else’s wedding.

“Sage!.”Cassy yells—again—jolting me from my thoughts. This place was way to quiet for that kind of noise. I look over at her to find her sprawled on one of the pew.

The man on the alter cough—

I inhaled a sharp breath and scan the broad room—it was huge but scanty. There was a one photographer who’s been taking photos since I walked in. A few people dressed corporate—probably from his side—and Cassy, whose drunken grin was the only thing keeping me from bolting out the door and never looking back.

“Alright,” I inhale “I do.” I say because apparently it was my turn.

The officiant slid a sleek black folder across the altar. Inside was the marriage license—the real deal.

“Sign here,” he said, motioning to the line below his signature.

My hand trembled as I picked up the pen.

This wasn’t a joke anymore.

Andrew signed his name quickly, his dark eyes never leaving mine.

I hesitated for a second—then scribbled my signature. A man in suit brought with him a box that contained the ring. A ring? I looked at the diamond contemplating if I should just run away with it. He handed me a ring for me to wear him. I raised a questioning brow at him.

“For the photographer.” He explained plainly. I took it and wore him.

I could her from the pew I hear Cassy sniffle. Is she…crying?

It is official. I Sage Moreno is married—To a man she met today.

For two million dollars.

After the ceremony, Andrew pulled out a leather folder and handed it to me—this time, the real contract.

“This spells out everything. You sign, and the million goes straight into your account.” I look through it—how foolish am I? I didn’t even get to asked for the terms and agreement.

I scanned the deep legal jargon, heart pounding. It all felt so cold and businesslike. It made it known to my delusions telling me that it’s all a joke and I can bail out— I couldn’t.

“I’d have some people take you and your friend to an hotel…it’s too late to get back to your houses.” He states. I want to complain about him not asking me if I’m okay with it—but why wouldn’t I be? He was literally giving me a roof over my head.

I nod.

He opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted by his phone. He excuses himself—barely—and leaves.

A silent staff member appears like a ghost, gesturing politely for us to follow.

I guess that’s our cue.

Cassy stumbles beside me out hands linked, she hums a wedding march off-key while gripping her heels in one hand. “I want a hot tub and French fries,” she mutters as we enter the sleek black car waiting outside. I tap her palms in comfort. It’s funny how effortlessly she fits into all this luxury—as if she’s done it a hundred times. Like this is the kind of life meant for her.

The hotel is in one word—expensive. Glittering chandeliers, white marble floors, and a concierge who greets us like royalty. My brain’s too fried to appreciate it. Just how rich is this Andrew?

A suite? You could call it that.

A bedroom, a huge living room, and a view that looks like a painting. I wander in a daze as someone drops off our bags—wait, when did they even get packed?

Cassy beelines to the minibar. I watch her pop a mini bottle of champagne and chug it like water. I want to caution her—but with all the events of today, even I needed a break.

I get to her an take the bottle from her hand taking in a long chug.

“You just got married,” she says, flopping onto the couch. “This is insane. Also—I love it for you.”

I laugh, hollow. “Yeah—say that again tomorrow when you’re sober.”

My dress is still on, my hair a mess of pins and curls. I walk into the bathroom and stare at myself. Married. That word lands with a strange weight. This was supposed to be a transaction. A business deal. But there was a ceremony, a signature, a kiss.

No—there wasn’t a kiss.

Thank God.

I peel off the dress, fold it carefully, and slip into the hotel’s robe. I’m not ready to sleep, but I’m too tired to think. I take another swing of the drink I can’t pronounce it’s name.

I hear a knock at the door and go to it.

It’s a hotel staff member holding a sealed envelope.

“For you, Mrs. Thorne,” he says.

I blink at the name about to tell her she’s in the wrong room—wait— it’s my name.

That’s me now. For now.

Inside is a black card key and a short note:

“This key is for the penthouse next door. If you need anything, send a message. —Andrew.”

My pulse flutters. He’s here? Staying right next door?

I toss the key on the table and climb into bed beside Cassy, who’s already snoring with one shoe still on. I tick us into the bed properly.

“Goodnight, Cassidy.” I whisper to myself. Because she’s already gone.

And it’s not long before I join her.