Mina: Fine. You, me, Vegas weekend. Strangers for witnesses. If I’m getting fake married, I need it to feel just as fake, even if the law says otherwise. No bullshit. No frills. Just “I do” and then we’re done.

Tucker: Are you sure?

Mina: You mean to tell me you want a big church wedding with both of our families and about 600 guests we don’t give a shit about to watch us lie to one another?

Tucker: No, but I thought you’d want that. Don’t all women want the huge wedding?

Tears fell from my eyes, dripping onto the hands that shook as they held my cell phone in a horrible grip. I had never wanted a huge, ostentatious wedding, but I used to dream of something that was special and entirely mine. I even had a wedding book, one I’d made when I was younger, that had all the things I wanted for my own nuptials one day. It was hidden away in the back of my closet now, probably collecting dust along with the idea of a special wedding to someone I didn’t have to lie to and who actually wanted me for me.

Tucker: Did you change your mind again?

Mina: As you already pointed out before, I’m not most women, and no, I don’t want a huge wedding.

Tucker: I never said that.

Mina: Close enough. Let me know when you have a couple of days free to get this done.

Tucker: There are other things to work out too.

Mina: Like?

Tucker: The prenup. Where we’re going to live, because we will have to put up that front to everyone, even if we’re not really living as husband and wife behind closed doors.

Right. Because God forbid the man that I marry might actually want to fuck me, ever. The tears kept coming as I stared at the blurry words before me.

Mina: I honestly don’t give a shit. Pick a date. Pick a place. As long as I get to finish school this semester, that’s all I care about.

Tucker: School won’t be a problem, I promise.

Mina: Also, make sure your lawyer keeps the paperwork simple. I don’t want to spend two weeks trying to read through a bunch of legal bullshit.

Tucker: You got it.

Mina: Great. When he’s done, send it to my dad’s lawyer for approval, then I’ll sign, and we’ll get the rest done before anyone can plan a thing.

Tucker: I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why are you doing this?

Mina: Life is short, why not fuck it up with my first marriage?

Tucker: Seriously, are you okay?

Mina: Peachy. You’re supposed to be conversing with your lawyer now, not me. Go. Get shit done. All I want to have to do is sign my name on the paperwork, say “I do” and not much else. This is everyone else’s ballgame; I’m basically just the hotdog being tossed from one dude to another as a transaction.