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921words2026-01-27 09:14

I sat in the clerk's office at San Francisco City Hall, the damn marriage license application sitting on the desk between us.
It looked less like a new beginning but more like a death certificate.
Brandon's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, and his face instantly changed. "Shit. Emily, I am so sorry—"
"Don't," I said. I already knew. I always knew.
"It's Chloe. She fell down the stairs at her place. She might broke her ankle. I have to—"
"Go," I said, my voice terrifyingly calm.
"Babe, we can just come back tomorrow, okay? It's the same thing, just one day later—"
"Sure. Whatever."

He hesitated for a second, pressed a rushed and meaningless kiss to my forehead, and bolted.
Just like that, I was alone.
Sitting in the city hall surrounded by couples holding hands and giggling like idiots.
My phone buzzed. A text from Brandon:

"Chloe's ankle is worse than we thought. She might need surgery. We have to push the wedding back. Really sorry, babe."
I stared at the screen, fighting the urge to laugh hysterically.
How many times?
How many times had he ditched me for Chloe?
How many times was I the last choice?
The clerk looked over, giving me a pitying look.
"Miss, are you... still proceeding?"
"Yes," I heard myself say.
"I'm getting married today."
She blinked in confusion.
I pulled out my phone and texted another man.
The man I saved six years ago at my grandmother's winery in Napa.
The man who owed me a favor.
"Remember you owe me? I'm cashing it in. City Hall. Be here in twenty minutes."
The read receipt appeared immediately. Then, three dancing dots.
"On my way."
I placed my phone face down on the table and took a deep breath.
Okay, Emily Carter. You're finally doing something completely batshit crazy.
My mother's call came in while I was staring blankly at the ceilling lights.
"Emily! Did you sign the papers? Hurry up and get to the Ritz-Carlton, both families are waiting to celebrate—"
"Mom," I interrupted.
"We didn't sign. Chloe twisted her ankle, and Brandon went to the hospital to hold her hand. He wanted to put off the wedding"
I waited for the explosion.
My mother, Margaret Carter, the woman who made venture capitalists on Sand Hill Road tremble, was silent for three whole seconds.
Then she was detonated.
"What the hell is he doing?!"
"Mom—"
"Putting off the wedding?! Do you know how many people we invited? State senators, the board, your father's investors! He thinks he can just reschedule?! Does he think this is playing house?!"
"Mom, stop—"
"And that little bi—" She took a sharp breath, swallowing the word.
"You know what, I'm calling Patricia right now. The Scotts owe us an explanation—"
"Mom!" I finally yelled. "Mom, stop."
She paused.
"The wedding is still on."
"...What?"
"I said, the wedding is still on. It's just..." I closed my eyes. "The groom has changed."
Dead silence on the other end.
Then I heard my dad in the background, "Margaret, what is that look on your face? You look like you've seen a ghost."
My mom's voice became very careful. "Emily, baby, are you saying..."
"I'm marrying Nathan Black. Today. He will be here in twenty minutes."
Another silence.
Then my dad's voice came through, clearly having snatched the phone.
"Fantastic! Oh, thank God! Margaret, our daughter finally woke up!"
I couldn't help but smile, even though my eyes were stinging.
"Emily, sweetie," my mom's voice returned, softer this time. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"That bastard didn't deserve you. He never did."
"I know, Mom. I know."
I hung up just as he walked in.
Nathan Black.
He was still wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, looking like he just stepped out of a board meeting. His hair was slightly messy, like he had run here.
He stood six-three with dark eyes and a sharp jawline.
A Stanford legend who took over his family's tech investment firm at twenty-six and turned it into the most aggressive VC in Silicon Valley by thirty.
He saw me, and an unreadable expression crossed his face.
"Emily."
"Nathan." I stood up. "Thanks for coming."
He walked up to me, studying my face intensely.
"Have you been crying?"
"No," I lied.
He reached out, his thumb brushing my eyelashes, coming away damp. "Liar."
I looked away.
"Can we just... get this done?"
"Marriage?" His voice was low, carrying an emotion I couldn't place. "Alright. Let's do it."
He paused. "But Emily, if you have even a shred of hesitation—"
"I don't." I grabbed his hand. "I'm sure. Are you?"
He looked at me, those dark eyes holding a depth I couldn't read.
"I have never been more sure of anything in my life."
Fifteen minutes later, we walked out of City Hall.
I held a marriage certificate in my hand that read: Emily Marie Carter & Nathan Christopher Black.
I got married. Just like that.
"Are you okay?" Nathan asked, his hand resting lightly on my lower back.
"Yeah." I sounded calmer than I felt. "I'm okay."
His phone rang.
He checked it and frowned. "Damn it, I have to go. The City Council bid meeting, I can't miss it—"
"Go," I said. "I'm fine."
He hesitated, then leaned in and gave me a brief, light hug.
"Tomorrow. The wedding proceeds as planned."
I nodded, watching him walk away.
Then my phone rang.
Brandon.
I almost didn't answer, but eventually, I hit the button.