Page 3 of Merlot Marriage

“Well, Mrs. van der Merwe. Should we go home?”

Philip

Eight weeks later

I pull out my phone to reread the texts from my family as the other graduates mill around me on the lawn.

Mum:I’m so proud of you, Philip! I can’t believe my baby boy is so grown now.

The series of crying face and heart emoji following her message is four rows deep, making me chuckle.

Dad:Well done, son. You finally put your mind to something and saw it through. Now the opportunities that await you are endless. How are the job prospects? Need me to put in a word for you with someone?

I push down my annoyance at Dad’s not-so-subtle reference to my younger days. I’m not going to let him get under my skin today.

My brother’s message is a video of him, his wife, and my two nephews holding up a banner with the words “Congratulations,Uncle Flippy” in crooked letters, the finger-painted artwork surrounding it the obvious contribution of my nephews, given the paint covering their hands and cheeks. Volume off, I let the video loop a few times until their genuine excitement for me soothes the pinprick wounds left from my dad’s message.

“Phil!” Cassie’s fiancé, TJ, wanders over, clapping me on the back hard enough that I stumble forward a step. Wincing at the hated nickname and the blow, I shift out of reach, turning to face him just as Cassie comes bounding over.

“We did it!” She giggles and snuggles into his side. “Can you believe it?” Like mine, her black gown is unzipped, a white dress visible beneath. Her cap is in her hand, the tassel swinging as she moves.

“Wasn’t sure I was going to make it at the end there. Those finance finals were a bitch.” They wouldn’t have been so stressful if I had studied like I intended to, but every time I sat down to study, I’d catch myself scrolling through photos of Ophelia and myself, wondering why she was avoiding me.

When she suggested we get married in Vegas, I assumed she and I were on the same page—that defending her thesis was the turning point, and she was ready to take us off the back burner. Was it a bit bananas to go from best friends to married, skipping the steps between? Maybe. But I’ve done stupider things with far less thought. And I figured we’d been basically dating for the last two years anyway, so why not?

Apparently, we may have been reading from the same book, but we were definitely not on the same page. Maybe not even the same chapter.

Cassie laughs, the sound more carefree than I’ve heard from any of our friend group in weeks. Eight, to be exact. Since we all stumbled home from Vegas, hungover and full of bad decisions.

“Where’s your better half?” TJ looks around as he asks. Cringing when Cassie elbows him in the gut. “What?”

“I promised Ophie we wouldn’t tease them today. Be nice.”

She promised Ophie? “Why’s that?” My curiosity gets the better of me, and I need to know the story behind that statement.

Cassie looks around, checking to see who’s nearby. “Because her whole family is here, and she didn’t want them getting ideas. You’ve met her mom, right? I guess ever since Maggie and Kel got engaged, her mom’s been talking nonstop about Ophie being the only single one left. Her dad is convinced she needs to move back to Seattle with them if there’s nothing keeping her here.” She arches an eyebrow at me, but I’m ready for it—I always am when Cassie is around—and don’t react.

Black gown flaring, she turns to gaze up at TJ with a soft smile. Not an expression I see often on her mischievous face. “Besides, today isourday.”

“Your day?”

TJ grins at her, then looks up. “We’re headed to the courthouse after this to make everything official. I told her I would wait until graduation to make her my wife and not one hour more. Got the license a week ago.”

Mywife is wandering around here somewhere too. Maybe if she hadn’t scuttled away after the ceremony, I’d know where. I glance around but don’t see her brunette mane anywhere.

“Congratulations, that’s awesome.” My words taste bitter with jealousy. To cover up my half-hearted well-wishes, I add some other pleasantries while Cassie studies me. Twirling her hair around his finger, TJ drones on about all the benefits he can finally take advantage of once they say “I do.”

“You know, if you wanted to stay in the States, you and Ophelia could just get married so you can get a green card.”

I stutter over the words that stick in my throat at Cassie’s too-casual suggestion. Denial is second nature. Outrage is cliché. Confusion stopped being funny a year ago. My feelings might be legitimate, but our friends stopped wanting to hear it ages ago—no matter how many times I declared I wanted to earn the right to stay here on my own.

Especially now that it’s all a lie.

I’m still trying to string together a fully formed thought when a familiar warm hand comes to rest against my back.

“Are you okay?” Ophie’s whiskey-brown eyes come into view, the concern in them only making it worse. She steps close, wrapping her arm around my waist, one hand making slow circles across my back.

“Yup. Fine. Never better,” I gasp.

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