Page 12 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
5
JULIANA
The air conditioning hummed softly as Juliana sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor of her room at her mom’s house, idly sorting through the mail that had finally been forwarded to her. Because clearly, if her life was going to be a dumpster fire, it might as well come with paperwork. It had been three months since she returned from Tealua, and still, she was dealing with the fallout of the wedding that never happened.
Judging by the stack of wedding cards in this pile, this mail had been sitting in postal purgatory for a while. Perfect. She now had the pleasure of returning each one with a personalized note that said, “Whoops, guess not!” in her best penmanship. Humiliatingandtedious. A two-for-one.
Her belongings had been unceremoniously shipped back to her from Leo’s house in San Jose where they had planned to live after the wedding. Since she’d only had one month left on her lease, she’d stashed all her things in a storage unit. She’d basically deleted all of her social media profiles after dealing with fake concern and nosy questions disguised as sympathy from the people she thought were friends. But the fact thatLeo and Ivy had announced their relationship to nothing but best wishes and congratulations from their circle showed Juliana exactly where she stood. Apparently, betrayal was easier to forgive when it came with a decent filter and matching Instagram captions.
She’d lost her fiancé, her friends, and her future in one fell swoop.
With nowhere else to turn, she’d moved in with her mother after the honeymoon, which was exactly as emotionally healthy as it sounded. She had to weather every snide comment about her inability to keep a man like Leo and her general failings as a daughter. Juliana desperately needed to get out of here, but she’d left her job as an event planner to focus on her wedding. Leo had assured her that she shouldn’t work after the wedding. He’d take care of everything.
She scoffed. She would never let a man walk all over her like that again. From now on, she was the boss of her own story. Even if the first few chapters had been...poorly edited. She should have known that the only way to make sure things didn’t fall apart was to manage every little detail herself.
She stared down at the pile of mail again, avoiding the obvious greeting card envelopes as she looked for something—anything—more pressing. A utility bill. A tax form. A catalog she could immediately toss in the recycling. Something that made sense.
Her fingers paused on a thick business-sized envelope near the bottom of the pile. It was heavier than the others. The return address was printed in small, formal type, but the postmarks were foreign and half-smudged, a smear of ink that made her squint.
It didn’t look familiar.
Curious now, she slid a nail under the flap and carefully opened the envelope. At the top of the first page, the emblemof the Island Republic of Tealua stared back at her—an intricate design of waves, a conch shell, and a hibiscus flower in deep-green ink. Oooh, fancy.
A faint scent of jasmine rose from the thick stack of cream-colored papers inside, as if the envelope had spent the last month lounging in a spa while she’d been spiraling.
Juliana sat straighter, unfolding the pages. The first was generic: formal greetings from the Tealuan Ministry of Cultural Affairs, thanking the couple for participating in the Sacred Union Experience and congratulating them on the successful completion of their ceremonial rite.
It read like a polite thank-you note... until she turned to the second page.
The script changed.
This page looked official. Like, capital O Official. The kind of font that usually appeared on diplomas, death certificates, or—oh look—marriage documents.
At the top, in bold, gold-embossed letters that screamedyou screwed up big time, were the words:
Certificate of Marriage—Sacred Union Rite of Tealua
She blinked.
Her eyes dropped to the lines beneath it, and her heart stuttered.
“Be it known that Gideon Thomas Reynolds and Juliana Marie Emerson, having participated in the Sacred Union Rite on the 17th day of July, are hereby legally recognized by the Council of Tealua as joined in ceremonial marriage, binding under Tealuan tradition and laws.
She stopped breathing.
The words swam in her vision, refusing to make sense.
She read them again, slower this time, as if the meaning might change with a second glance. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.
Binding.
Legally recognized by the Council of Tealua.
Her pulse roared in her ears. The cream-colored paper trembled in her hands.
She scanned the bottom of the page, where a wax seal in deep red shimmered faintly in the light. Beneath it were two signature lines. One bore Gideon’s bold scrawl, easy and confident. The other carefully written like she was signing a guest book at a bed-and-breakfast.
Unsure what she hoped to find–perhaps a big LOL, JUST KIDDING printed on it—she flipped to the last page. A neatly typed FAQ page stared up at her. Helpful. Because what this situation definitely needed most was a frequently asked questions section.
