Vegas Wedding

I’ve been here before, except this time I was actually in love. Getting married again filled me with so much anxiety and for good reason. Hopefully with age and a very, very bad go with the first one, I might have just what it takes to have a wonderful lasting marriage.

My First marriage was terrible. He had been a serial cheater for the 12 years of our marriage and the three before. I knew I shouldn’t have married him, he was all of the things that you weren’t supposed to marry. There are so many differences, so many values that a young bride of 26 and a more mature bride of 40 do not share. At 26 I thought I could fix him. I thought I could love him enough that I’d be his one and only. We have had so many fights over the cheating, I was done with the other girls, the lies, and the weekend disappearances.

It was a Thursday and I hadn’t heard from him since the prior Friday. I Finally had enough restraint not to call him. I was done. He had decided to spend the weekend prior with some other woman, or as he said a really really bad toothache. He finally decided to call. It’s practically been a week! What on earth could he say to convince me that a toothache was really the culprit for his disappearance? You know those moments in your life when you think you can be strong? That you’ve held out this long, four whole days! But I answer the phone anyway. And, I was not strong. His solution was that we got married. He’d come pick me up right then and there. I gave him two hours. Given his track record I figured a piano would fall on his car or his mother‘s cousin‘s grandmother was coming to visit. The only thing I expected that Thursday night was another excuse. But two hours later he was at my house.

And so, We did the very best thing at the time and we eloped. It was a very terrible secret. We drove the five hours from LA. I had no dress, we had no rings, but I did have a very bad feeling in my stomach. I had decided that we wouldn’t get married that night because if he still wanted to marry me the following day it obviously meant it was real. We shopped for a dress and a couple of cheap rings and sat around and waited for the night to become the next day.

I wish I could tell you that it was meaningful or beautiful or even that I could remember something that stood out that November day. But I can’t. It was so very Vegas classy. We got married at the Little White Wedding Chapel. Made famous by the likes of Michael Jordan and Britney Spears. Surely I was in good company and that this marriage was the real deal. We walked in by ourselves, and we walked out by ourselves. We had a certificate and a limo ride back to the casino, it was just as every girl dreams. Or that’s what I thought as I tried to conv myself I’d done the right thing. But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t tell my family and the few friends I did tell offered to drive to Vegas and pick me up and take me away from such a very bad bad idea. But it was done. So we spent Our wedding night on opposite ends of the casino, I at the roulette table in my wedding dress and he the blackjack table. Occasionally he’d send me over a glass of free champagne, such a big spender. I sat at the table as others came and went, a few asked me if I just gotten married and where was my groom. I’d point and sometimes They’d noticed him and sometimes they just pretend they did. A few even asked me how long I’d known him. This was already shaping up to be a giant disaster.

I can’t even tell you what time we finish gambling. But I do know that he was so belligerent that the first two taxis refuse to take us back to our hotel. What the fuck was I doing? I finally was able to control him enough to get us into a cab. I just wanted to go home. Back at the room, I was pushed up against the giant full length windows and the deed was done. Wedded and bedded.

The next morning waiting for the car from valet, I felt the hangover taking control. I vomited everywhere. My groom, my husband held my hair so that I could grace the flower beds with a gift of everything Vegas had given me. Because honestly I didn’t want it. I knew I had made a mistake.

How do I tell my mother, my grandmother, and my brother? They all hated him. My dad died when I was 21. Thankfully, he wasn’t around for the disappointment as well. I had no plan. I had no good story or explanation for them. I decided I wouldn’t say anything at all.

The next day I went back to work and quickly the news had spread that I had taken the day off Friday to get married. How on earth did the girls know? Because Nancy was a friend of Jen, who was also seeing Jamie. I guess Jen had called during the weekend and I wasn’t aware. Jamie told her he was getting married but that he still wanted to see her. I had no idea just how bad it would really get. I tried my hardest to act happy and blissful in the office that day. But I also had no idea what my husband was up to or if I’d even see him that night.

I dodged my mothers phone calls for weeks. Bouncing back between my house and his. There were arguments, blackout drunk episodes, and of course let’s not forget the other women. Finally I got a phone call and a voicemail from my mother saying if I didn’t check in she’d call the police and report me missing. It was time to own up to my wonderful new status and just how wonderful married life was. They took it as very best they could. I figured OK I can fake it, at least until I could figure out a plan to get me out. I’d put together enough money to file for divorce quietly. I’d put up with the bullshit and pretend until then.

I had been married for a month and a week. I was so tired. After work I could barely keep my eyes open. We’d go to the bar, and by eight all I wanted to do was go home and go to bed. Something wasn’t right. And then I realized, I was pregnant.

My quick get out of jail card had expired.