Page 27 of The Score

We originally planned to open it when we were both married. Then, when she swore off romance, we said we'd open them at thirty. Just a few months left.

With our wedding on the table, it might be best to postpone that reveal.

I sigh. "All right. Just keep some of the mystery."

She pushes back on the ground, creating gentle movement on the swing. "One of the things I said was that I released you from the pact. That I may be selfish in how much I want from you, but you didn't need to do that. Yet here we are."

"See? I'm just following the plan."

"Earlier, my parents were asking about the kind of wedding we want. We said something small, but I don't think you and I agree on what that means."

"Anything you want, Pen."

She smirks and gazes up at the few wispy clouds above us. "You see, if anyone had asked me— before I decided to be single forever— what kind of wedding I wanted, I would have said the courtroom was enough for me. A pretty dress, some flowers, two friends as witnesses and a judge. Done. The point of getting married is the marriage itself, not the wedding."

"You would have wanted to elope. One big problem with that. No aisle."

Her lips tense. She drops to rest her elbows on her knees, bringing her closer to me. Giving me a view down her neckline that I forbid myself from gaping at. I lock eyes with her.

"So I guess I'll have to be okay with all the clichés," she says. "I'll need to find a dress, and we have to get a venue on short notice."

I scratch my eyebrow. "What about… our living situation?"

"Right. I guess we need to move in together."

I nod. "The room I keep for my parents. We can make it cozy for you."

"What's wrong with my apartment?!"

I roll my eyes, like the answer is obvious.

"Hey!" she complains, but she laughs.

Her apartment is close to her job, but too far from mine. And it's too small for all of our things combined, and it's not like she doesn't like my place. She helped me decorate it, for fuck’s sake.

"How am I supposed to make it to work during rush hour?" she adds.

"Easy. You take this as an opportunity to take a leave of absence, and use that time to decide what comes next."

"Do you want me to take the full year we'll stay married?!"

"Sure. Make it two years."

"That's not— two years is too long—"

"Then quit. Tell your boss you're not coming back to work after the honeymoon."

"We're going on a honeymoon?"

"I'm already making plans."

"What kind of plans?"

"I'll surprise you. It's a good excuse for a trip, isn't it? And there's no way I would skip a honeymoon. Your parents know that. I'm not going to let them think I'm a bad husband."

"Admit this is another way to spoil me rotten."

"Secondary benefit." I cross my arms.