The Fake Wife

Let's Go to Vegas

Jake

It was already Thanksgiving, and as expected, it turned into a disaster. While sitting with the angry man, Alison realised that Dad's dislike for her was evident, and he did not bother concealing it.

Not even the Martens at the table had made him put his lawyer's face on for the occasion. At this point, he had enough of the charade that so far had dragged into this celebration.

As always, Nora Stewart tried to pretend nothing was out of place, but even Martin, the perfect butler, was making mistakes at the dining table. But what disturbed me the most was the conversation that seemed endless at dinner—the holidays in France.

We would fly to France in three weeks, and Alison needed a passport. How do I go about getting a new passport under Alison Sunny? Because that was her real name. I could pretend she never made a new passport under her married name if she had an old one.

Some people do that to save hassle and money. But that was not the case. I was rich and had people to do that.

I tried to talk to Matt the whole day about it, but with too many people around, mainly Alison, I could not ask him for help.

It was only the next day that I was having a dreadful conversation with him, and so far, I hated everything he suggested.

"Hey Jake, I think I figured it out. We can fly to Vegas tomorrow, and you can get married to her."

I looked at Matt like he had lost his mind. Is he serious right now? "You can't be serious, Matt!!! Did you take something before coming to see me?"

He rolled his eyes. "We can get an annulment if you don't consummate your marriage." He stopped talking and smirked at me. "Well!!! It would be challenging since you'll be in the honeymoon suite in Vegas with no kids to disturb. But think on the bright side, my friend. Little brother will get you a divorce as easily as he would an annulment."

Matt put his feet on my coffee table like he owned my office and sipped his whiskey. "Besides, I don't know how you can share a bed with your fake wife, whose hands have yet to rip her nightdress. Even though the little guy isn't that excited about her, sleeping every day beside a warm body is cause for getting laid, my friend."

I narrowed my eyes, annoyed that we were still discussing the same thing. "Because, Mister Marten, I already told you I don't want to take advantage of her condition."

"Problem solved if we go to Vegas. She'll officially be your wife. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about. Besides, her memory hasn't improved, Jake. Let's be honest. It might never return, and soon, you can't postpone the inevitable."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. "Did my mother put you up to this, Matt? She is very taken by Alison. Even talking about love. I wouldn't put it past her if she had made you come here to smooth things out."

"No, Jake. I haven't spoken to your mother. But come on, buddy, I can't make a fake passport for her. That's a big felony. An ID? Yeah, it was like making a fake ID when we wanted to get into bars before we were 21. You said she's excited about the trip. There is no getting out of going to France for the holidays. Your mother is pushing it hard, buddy."

He raised his glass, enthusiastic. "Let's make the whole thing official in Vegas. Have a good time there and on the slopes. You used to have fun in Vegas, pal."

I clenched my jaw and got up from my chair. "Yes, Matt!!! Getting shitty-faced and picking up women, not getting married. If I marry her, what happened in Vegas won't stay in Vegas this time."

"Blab, blab, blab. Tomato, tomato, my friend. You don't have a choice, so why don't you make the most of the situation? She might even grow on you. She certainly did on the kids."