Page 20 of The Home Grown
“I—”
“I think it was real,” she says.
“What?”
“I think it was real, Mike. I think … we’re actually married. And the only logical conclusion I can come up with is that you must have known. Don’t tell me you didn’t because?—”
I actually feel my jaw drop.
She’s flushed red, her arms drop to her sides as she clenches her fists, like she’s gearing up to punch me.
I hold my hands up in surrender.
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That bit of paper they gave us … oh, I bet you found it hilarious. A ‘right laugh’.” She does the air quotes. “I’ve had that document for eight years, Mike. Eight years. Thought nothing of it. But what did I see online a few weeks ago? Someone showing the world that exact same piece of paper which they too, thought was part of anexperience…”
I can’t stop myself. I burst into laughter, because the thought alone sounds completely ridiculous. But the redder Ellie gets, the more I’m inclined to conclude that she’s taking this very fucking seriously indeed.
I give a nervous chuckle.
“No way, that was a pretend thing. People do shit like that all the time. Me and a mate got fake ‘Vegas’ married in a nightclub once … it’s not real.” I laugh again, but Ellie’s face stays sombre.
I try to elaborate.
“Just like our ‘experience’ wasn’t real. We queued up and played along with getting married. There were like … ” I think for a moment, “… two other couples doing the same thing.”
“Two other couples who are also married without knowing about it,” she says. “I’ve been googling it.”
My heart picks up speed. And without hesitating, I pull my phone from my pocket and start typing in search terms.
Weddings Ærø
Can you accidentally get married?
How do you know if a wedding certificate is real?
I skim read as quick as I can before jabbering.
“Nah, it’s impossible. It says here that you need to apply to the Danish Agency of something or other … and we’d have had to pay them.” I flash my phone screen at Ellie. “See—it says they take up to five days to approve things, and we didn’t give them IDor whatever. I don’t think you can get married without ID. Or banns being read or something like that.”
I skip back to the search results page before spotting a video posted to a social media site.
Ellie says something, but I’m not listening. I’m focused on this damn video. The woman talking is basically describing the same experience we had. Word for word. The same date and everything.
I chuckle again.
“Nah, stuff like this doesn’t happen in real life. It’s like … something out of a film or whatever. She probably put the video up for views. Click bait, you know.”
But when I catch her expression, a pang ofsomethinghits me in the chest.
Fuck.
“You knew all along, didn’t you?” she says. “Did you submit a request or something? Did you?—”
“No. How could I? I don’t even?—”
“Then why the hell did you ghost me the very next day? You disappeared, and you weren’t anywhere to be seen—right up until I had to fly home. You knew, and you were probably laughing at my expense.”
