Page 39 of Clinically Bewitched
“I’m here.”
“Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but the best thing you can do right now is come home, get some distance from the situation, and let me handle the legal side. Okay?”
Distance.
Right.
Except I couldn’t get distance because I had to fly homewithher.
Because apparently, the universe, or fate, or Karma, or whatever cosmic force was currently ruining my life, had decided that I hadn’t suffered enough yet.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be back tonight.”
“Good. Call me when you land and we’ll set up a meeting.”
He hung up.
I stood there for a moment, phone still pressed to my ear, trying to process what had just happened.
I was trapped.
Completely, legally, cosmically trapped.
I couldn’t file for annulment here. I couldn’t stay here to file. I had to go home, back to New Haven, back to my carefully controlled life, back to my colleagues and my sister and everyone who knew me as the person who had everything together.
And I had to bringherwith me.
My wife.
Mywife.
The woman I’d met yesterday.
The woman who believed the universe had personally arranged our meeting.
The woman who was currently inside the restaurant, probably explaining to the waiter how the cosmic energy in the açai bowl was aligning her chakras or whatever.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to get on a plane by myself, fly home, and pretend this entire weekend had never happened.
But I couldn’t.
Because she had the marriage certificate.
Because she was legally my wife.
Because the universe, apparently, had a sense of humor and hated me personally.
I took a deep breath, or at least, I tried to; my chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped it in plastic wrap. With no other option, I walked back into the restaurant.
Athena looked up and smiled.
That same bright, genuine, completely unbothered smile.
Like this was all perfectly normal.
Like we hadn’t just upended both our lives in the span of twelve hours.
