Page 14 of Scoring Chance

"You know, just take care of Tanner. He's been through a lot, and he's a good guy."

Despite everything, Hank's speech actually wedges into my heart. It makes me think of Tanner and how wonderful he is. And damn, now I’m looking up at the ceiling, holding back tears.

Maybe Hank isn't so bad at speeches.

"Thanks, pal." I wrap an arm around him, kiss him on his head and realize his hair is in place thanks to a gallon of hair gel. "Okay, let's get freaking married."

We walk into the judge's chambers. A big window looks out on a huge oak tree, sun shining through the leaves. Hank immediately starts humming “Here Comes the Bride.” The judge sits behind his oak desk, surrounded by shelves of law journals. Tanner and Griffin, our other witness, are sitting in two chairs on the right side. Two chairs on the left side are empty for Hank and me.

Technically, I am walking down an aisle, not the aisle.

“That’s enough,” I mutter to Hank to end his singing.

Tanner stands up from his chair and turns to face me. Fuck. I am not a romantic, and this is not a real wedding, but the wind kind of gets knocked out of me for a second. His fiery blue eyes and sweet, hopeful gaze pull me like a tractor beam down the aisle–I mean, an aisle. We're actually getting married. Like we're going to sign a legal document and be husbands. It's hard to tell what's a scam and what isn't.

"You look very nice, Des," he says.

"Well, I always look nice. It pays to have a tailor on speed dial." I adjust my cuffs in a James Bond style.

The judge welcomes us into her chambers. She's an older woman with a mane of gray hair and big, black-framed glasses. She looks like she could’ve been a lesbian bookstore owner in a past life.

"Good morning. We’re here today to witness the union of Max Desmond and Tanner Chance in marriage,” the judge says. I stand next to Tanner. His sandalwood scent blurs the lines even more today.

"It's so weird hearing someone call you Max," Griffin says. He gives me a supportive nod and stands behind us observing. He’s really taking being a witness to heart.

"You can just call me Des," I tell the judge. "Max was my father's name."

The judge motions Tanner and me to take step forward. She comes around to our side of her desk. “Today marks the beginning of your shared journey, built on a foundation of honesty, respect, deep friendship, and of course love. Marriage is not just a celebration—it is a profound and enduring commitment.”

I gulp a nervous lump back in my throat. I didn’t expect the judge to go so hard.

“Ahead lies a future rich with joy, new experiences, and the challenges that life brings. With unwavering support for one another, you will face each moment united, growing stronger with every step.”

I look at Tanner, and I get that lump in my throat again. This can’t help but feel real as much as I try to remind myself it isn’t. Tanner doesn’t break eye contact with me, making this even more intimate.

The judge turns to me and asks me a question I never thought I would ever be asked. I take a deep breath, my heart thumping in my ears. I'm about to say two words I never thought I would say. But there's no one I'd rather say them to for the purposes of insurance coverage.

"I do."

Tanner bites his lip slowly. It's a small tell he has—that something is really affecting him. I guess he feels the weight of it too. This isn't just a little story between friends. We're involving the United States court system.

"And do you, Tanner, take Des to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Tanner opens his mouth. Nothing comes out at first. He looks at the judge, then looks back at Griffin, looks at me. His eyes are big and nervous.

Then I get nervous. Fuck. Am I gonna be left at the altar at my fake wedding?

"I do," he says. His voice is shaky, and I wonder if he’s going to cry. I squeeze his hand.

“Do you have the rings?” the judge asks.

Griffin steps forward and removes them from his pocket. He hands one to me. I stare at it for a second.

“You’re supposed to take it,” he tells me, as if I just landed on earth.

I was the one who picked out the pair of white gold rings. If we’re going to have a sham marriage, we might as well do it right. I picked the first pair that looked decent and weren’t cheap metal, then went to work. But now the rings are in front of me, and they’re…rings. Actual rings.

I open my palm and Griffin drops a ring in. I can barely think straight as I watch myself slide the ring onto Tanner’s finger.