It was a joke.
Or at least that’s what Greg believed she was doing… making a joke about the ring. It was cute. She really thought the expensive ring on her finger was fake. That’s what he loved… liked about her. She wasn’t materialistic or self-observed. She was down to earth and selfless. Plus, she didn’t mind a joke or two.
Greg could see what she was trying to do… trying to deflect the seriousness of the situation.
However, this wasn’t the time to play around. He needed to tell her everything before they were interrupted. Before someone else told her the truth about him.
She shook her head slightly, as she stared at him, her mouth forming into a sly smirk. He could tell she didn’t believe him, as though he was the one making jokes.
Silence fell between them.
She seemed to be trying to process what he said, but she didn’t speak.
“Did you hear me? We’re married,” he asked, searching her face. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Wha…what! There’s no way,” she scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “How do you even know for sure when you said that you were too drunk to remember anything?”
Greg got up from his seat, and walked over to the kitchenette dining table. “Well, actually, I said that I vaguely remember.”
He picked up the manilla envelope, which held all the documents that proved what he said was true. He had found it shortly after waking up that morning and looked over all of its contents. It was hard for him to believe it at first, but he couldn’t deny the evidence. He wasn’t sure how he would break the news to her, but he knew that the envelope's contents would be necessary.
“I woke up thirty minutes before you, so I had time to look around the suite. I found evidence that supports what I’m telling you,” he said, walking back towards her with the envelope in his hand.
He handed it to her and she hesitantly reached for it. Opening it, she pulled out some documents and photos. Greg watched her as she looked through the papers in her hand, a wedding certificate and a few photos. The photos were of Aziza and him, standing in front of a tacky backdrop cloth, with an even tackier picture on the cloth of a wedding arch which was supposed to look like an outdoor wedding scene. The first of the photos showed them standing side by side, in a traditional wedding pose. They held hands in front of them, showing off their rings, while Greg’s right arm wrapped around her back.
Aziza gasped, looking up at him. Her eyes, growing as wide as saucers, flicked to his left hand. It was as if she finally noticed the ring on his finger, even though they had been talking for a while. His ring matched hers. It was a white gold band with a rose gold vine pattern in the middle, all around. It was the perfect match to her ring, and for Greg, one that seemed to have a deeper meaning behind it.
Shaking her head, she looked back down at the rest of the photos, without a word.
The second photo showed both of them facing the camera, posing with someone dressed up as Elvis Presley. The Elvis look-alike was in between them, with his arms around each of their shoulders. Aziza and Elvis were smiling at the camera, but Greg was glaring at him with a death stare. The last photo just had Greg and Aziza together in a more loving pose. His arms were around her waist as she had her arms wrapped around his neck. They were so close together it was almost hard to tell one person from the other. To finish off the pose, Greg’s head was leaning forward towards hers as they kissed.
Putting the pictures aside as she pushed a piece of her light brown, curly hair from her face, Aziza looked at the wedding certificate. It was all there in black and white…their names, Alexander Gregory Wallace Percy Kinsington III and Aziza Makayla McIntyre. It was undeniable and Greg could see how that realization came to her as she stared at the paper.
He was right. They were married. A fact that was continually starting to grow on him.
Truth be told, he didn’t mind the situation at all. He’d always liked her from the moment they met in Statistics. They had sat next to each other for nearly half the semester, just exchanging the basic greetings. He had dated plenty of women, but for some reason he found it hard to approach Aziza. He just couldn’t bring himself to speak to her the way he normally would with other women. However, when he learned that she was struggling with the class material, he found his opening. Becoming her tutor helped him to get to know her. They became fast friends and even continued studying together even after they finished that semester's math course.
Of course, in all that time, he never told her how he really felt. So, to end up married to her felt like fate, even if it was out of order.
She looked back at him, with a blank unreadable look.
“Greg is your middle name,” she asked, as if latching onto the one thing that would keep her grounded from going into a total melt down.
Greg stared at her, his head slightly cocked to the side with one eye brow lifted up. Was she serious? How could she ask him that at a time like this?
“Out of all that I told you, and all that you saw, that’s what you point out,” he asked, shaking his head.
Aziza nodded, waiting for an answer.
“Yes, it is,” he sighed, as he placed his palm on his head.
Looking at her again, his eyes widened with concern. Something had changed.
“You don’t look very well. You’re starting to look pale and green at the same time,” he quickly got up, her glass cup in hand, and walked over to the kitchenette area. “I’ll get you some more water.”
This wasn’t going as well as he hoped…in fact it was a complete disaster. With all her attempts to remain unfazed, Greg could see the cracks showing now. If this was how she would react to their unexpected eloping, then how would she be able to handle the rest of the secrets he held.