Fake To Fall
he said, between bites of his own pancake, “I was thinking about the grant forms. Funny timeline, though. They have you listed as married for… what… three months already?”
My fork froze mid-air. My pancake hovered dangerously close to my mouth. My internal monologue screeched: Excuse me? What did he just say?
“I… what?” I asked, voice tighter than I intended.
He looked at me, calm, benign, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on my freshly married morning. “The Midlake grant paperwork. The digital submission timeline. It shows your marital status as effective, uh… August first. Didn’t we… get married yesterday?”
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