[ Book 3 ]
We aren't your typical couple. We didn't experience love at first sight. We weren't set up on a blind date. And we most definitely didn't get shot in the ass with Cupid's arrow.
No, unlike many other love stories before us, we woke up hungover off our asses at the Caesar's Palace Hotel in Sin City with a marriage certificate handcuffing us together and coercing us to endure the other in each other's lives.
And that was a year ago, three hundred and sixty-five days ago from that drunken night in Las Vegas, Nevada. The night that was supposedly our wedding night. It was where we exchanged slurred vows and didn't know what the hell we were doing let alone what the fuck we were actually getting ourselves into.
There were no vows. There wasn't a honeymoon. There wasn't even a single witness to this life-altering escapade so they could stop this, so they could fucking stop us from getting hitched.
But that was a year ago, a very long and enduring year ago, and we can't dwell on something that neither one of us really regrets. And one might want to go back and change everything, to climb into a time machine and send themselves back to that night and perhaps stop it, to alter the sequence of events that had transpired throughout these passed twelve months.
However, in retrospect, I don't think we would. We would leave everything just as it were. We wouldn't go back and change a single moment because we wouldn't be where we were today. We wouldn't be the unit that we are presently and even though we clash like the Titans, repel like magnets, and sometimes we drive one another to the brink of insanity... we just so happen to love as much as we despise one another.
Nevertheless, I'm the asshole that dared to call his husband "wifey," and I'm the fucking idiot who was stupid enough to let him.
[ Cover by: @elina_stylinson ]