Chapter 12: The Midterm Release

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By the time midterms had come around, Michelle and Bryce were finding they had less and less time together. With Bryce's night job, and Michelle's morning classes, they were almost living separate lives. Apart from when he came home at night and climbed into bed beside her, their weekdays were lonely. But the weekends were spent together, experimenting in dating their technical spouses. But Bryce had gotten the night after Michelle's midterm off, and he planned a night of romance with all the works. As he prepared a gourmet dinner and an apartment filled with candles and flowers, Michelle was running into a familiar face.

Leaving her last midterm, Michelle felt good, accomplished. She didn't ace it, but she'd done a good job. She walked across campus, over the brick center that had been oddly named red square because the bricks covered the expansive courtyard. It was always full of people constantly moving about, including street musicians and students with political causes throwing posters at Michelle's face.

"Michelle," A distinctly male voice called after her. She turned to see her father, standing beside Dixon.

"Hey guys," I said. "What do you want? Let me guess, Britain decided to dig up my dog's grave to put in a second in-ground pool. Or maybe you just came here to insult me in front of my new in laws. Sorry, they're not here."

"I can see you're angry with me," Her dad said, frowning. "I've decided to make it up to you."

"Really," Michelle replied. "You plan on making up pushing me away, letting me rot in a hospital alone, and humiliating me in front of my husband's entire family. Good luck with that Dad."

"I want to throw you a wedding, Michelle. I want to give you what you didn't get in Leavenworth."

"But, what? You want to throw me a wedding? I am already married."

"Well, it'd be an informal ceremony, a renewal."

"Wow, I don't know what to say..." Michelle's voice was shaky.

"Since your marriage is supposedly legitimate, why not say yes? Or you can say yes to annulment papers and I'll give you back your trust fund."

Michelle shook her head.

"Everything is a game to you, isn't it Dad. I am not a god damn chess piece, and I can't be bought. I will however, tell my husband you want to pay for a wedding to celebrate our marriage."

"Michelle, take a deep breath," Dixon said. "Your dad is trying to protect you. If there is any chance this guy isn't what you thought, if you have regrets, take the deal. Your dad is giving you an olive branch."

"Don't even speak to me, Dixon. You of all people have no right to tell me how to live my life."

"What does Michelle mean by that, Dixon? Were you and my daughter..."

"No," Michelle retorted. "No, if you'll excuse me, I am going home. I've had enough excitement for a day, so take your olive branch and shove it up your a-"

"Michelle!" Her father scolded. "Dixon, just give her the folder. I can see those Santiagos have tampered with her manners."

"Here," Dixon said, pulling a manila envelope from his messenger bag. "This is the proposed budget for the wedding. And included is the name of wedding planner we've hired."

"Let me guess," Michelle whined. "Is it one of Britain's friends who intends to make me miserable every second of the day?"

"No," Dixon said. "It's a friend of mine. His name is Wyatt, and he is very good at event coordinating. He'll be as sweet as pie, I swear."

"Your wedding planner is a guy," Michelle's dad scoffed. "Is he gay?"

"Yes, he is," Dixon replied in a matter of fact tone. "Is that a problem?"

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