Muddle on! (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 18

     "No," I refused. "There's no question about it! No! Non! Nein! Niet! Ne!" I was sitting protesting, waving my hands to make a stronger point of my speech. "NO! I refuse! De ninguna manera! No way! Uh-huh! Nope! No! Nope! No! Nope!" I quieted down, waiting for my massage to sink in. I hoped that that husband of mine understood my point of view on his stupid offer. There was no way in hell I'd come to live in his stupid townhouse. The offer was stupid.

    He was stupid.

     I get it. We did get married by mistake and there were consequences to pay for our stupid actions. It didn't mean we needed to play a happy couple, though. We could very well live apart while waiting patiently for some time frame to end. Apparently, we couldn't divorce earlier than in six months. According to Zach's lawyer, even if we would file a joined petition, stating that we couldn't stand each other and a desire to separate was more than mutual, the judge could get fussy and prolong our marriage for another half a year. So it was safer just to wait and then deal with the papers.

     "You're so damn difficult!" he snapped hitting the steering wheel with his hands. "It's not about you. You put in jeopardy my entire life. Everything is at stake, including my inheritance, business, and not to mention my public image. If you fail: you'll lose a dollar and get a scolding from mama and dada. If I fail: I'll lose millions, the business that my parents are about to transfer to me, my family credence, my public image and everything that I worked hard for. Don't you get it? You're a minor. If I get caught selling liquor to an underage girl, I'll not only screw up my business, getting a huge ass fine. I can lose my business altogether and f*ck up my parents' business."

      I stopped listening after the word "difficult". I was by no means difficult. I didn't crave drama or wanted to make his life unbearable. I wasn't even a pessimist. I was a realist, a realist with a healthy view on problems.

     "Not only you brought all the complications into my life. I had to endure a full hour of pure torture in your stupid pottery class!" he concluded his speech with another blow by the steering wheel.

     Just to clear the air, I didn't drag him to my pottery class, per se. He didn't have to come all the way down into the auditorium and actually participate. He could stay and wait in the car or better go home. I would hire a taxi or use public transport to get home. Now I was stuck listening to Zach's whining. And by the look of it, I had another twenty minutes to go.

      If to add to the list of things that were bothering me at the moment, Zach would be on the last place. His competitors were: Thirst, hunger, headache, and an impossible stink of something vile that seemed to surround me. I also was freezing. Stupidly I forgot my shirt at Zach's place and was wearing Ted's dress shirt that was too thin for the weather. Obviously, I badly needed a shower and a nine-hour-long sleep.

     I was still uncertain about the entire marriage dealio. It sounded foreign to my ear. I couldn't picture myself with a boyfriend let alone a husband. Not that Zach was much of a husband. He was more like a nagging pest that had a life mission of making me feel like a nuance. My life was also important. Maybe it wasn't important to him but it was important to me. I also didn't want complications. If he was afraid of losing his business and money, I was scared of the drag that came with the complications. I'll have to say goodbye to my summer studies and find a full time job. I needed to hire a lawyer - and to hire a lawyer I needed money - and to get money I needed a job. I don't know about you, but the chain sounded logical.

     I was logical and Taylor was stupid.

     "Just shut up, already," I sighed closing my eyes and rubbing my face. "I won't move to your place. I have my reasons to refuse your great offer. There are other means to show the judge that we had so-called attempt at persuading a stamp relationship. I don't know." I shrugged my shoulders. "Pictures together. Some documents stated that I reside in your place. It takes years for married couples to gather conjoined documents like tax return and bank stuff. Do you seriously think that any normal judge would demand such prove from people who were married only six months at the most? Get real, Zach. I don't know the law. But I'm sure it has some gaps to accommodate our case."