Page 36 of Breakout
Officiated by Judge Larry Brown
Witnessed by William Piper & Chloe Daniels
I run my finger over the embossed emblem from the state, certifying that it’s real.
Jesus Christ, I’m married. Not only am I married, but I’m married to Beckett fucking Hayes.
This is insane. I’ve done a lot of questionable things since my parents died, but this has to take the freaking cake.
Careful not to bend it, I stick it back into the envelope. I look out the windshield and see that it’s still misting, so I slip the envelope under my hoodie to keep it dry. Quickly, I jump out of the car and run across the parking lot to the door of Piper & Sons. When I open the door, the bell rings, making Mary look up and smile.
“Peyton, how are you, dear?”
“I’m good. I have the marriage certificate for Mr. Piper,” I tell her as I slip it out of my sweatshirt.
“Wonderful. I’ll let him know you’re here. Would you like anything while you wait?”
“No, thank you.”
“Perfect. Just take a seat, he should be out soon.”
I take a seat and stare outside. It really is nasty today. I hope it doesn’t get much worse until I get back to campus. My windshield wipers are shit, and my tires are in desperate need of retirement. Money that I don’t have.
But I will…
I still plan to give away the money, but part of me is starting to accept that some of it could be helpful for me. Only to do things that I need to survive.
“Peyton, did your husband not come with you?” Mr. Piper says, making me look his way.
I smile as I stand. “No, he has class this afternoon, and I knew you wanted this as soon as it came in.”
“Of course, come on in,” he says, waving me toward his office.
I fall into step behind him, and as he shuts the door to his office, I take a seat. “Here you go.” I slide the envelope onto his desk.
Mr. Piper takes his time sitting down and getting comfortable before he opens the envelope. He pulls out the marriage certificate and smiles. “Perfect. I’ll give this to Mary to scan, and then we will give it back to you.”
“Sounds good.”
He sets the paper down and studies me. “You know, you made for a beautiful bride, and it’s very clear how much your husband loves you.”
Love? He must be mistaken. Beckett doesn’t love me, at least not in the way he thinks.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I choke out.
“I never asked, but how long have you two been together?”
Panic grips me, but I stay as close to the truth as possible. I decide to give him the timeline of when our friends-with-benefits arrangement started.
“About a year now. We were friends before we started seeing each other.”
“I hope you two had talked about marriage before I sprung everything on you,” he says ruefully.
“Of course. Our original plan was to wait until after I graduated. All of this just pushed everything forward.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
I want to come clean and tell him that Beckett really is just someone I know who I married for my inheritance, but I can’t. For some reason I don’t want to see this man’s look of disappointment that I’ve been lying.
Your daddy issues are showing, Peyton.
