Complicated (Alex Gaskarth)

My Happy Ending

Five months into their marriage and Elizabeth and Elizabeth discover some startling news.

Inspired by this photo. Credit to owner.

Back in Montreal 5 months into our marriage, and I'm realizing it yet again.

He lied to me.

Didn't deliver on his promise to offer me the most authentic Emo Night experience, which as tonight's guest DJ, he is sort of obligated to do.

No, because rather than showing me what is entailed in an event like this—which with it being just the two us in the Fairmount Theatre's front hall, would be a perfect opportunity—from curating a playlist or using the soundboard he's completely unengaged.

As in, he's sitting on the last step of the stage, with his legs dangling over the edge, his arms on either side of him, and a faraway look on his features titled to the right, all while the soundboard lies behind him.

Unless such a scene is what he meant by authenticity? That before any event, either an actual show or a DJ set, he gets nervous and suddenly retreats into himself?

That doesn't seem likely, though, not with the way he was very gushing over being a guest DJ on the ride over to the venue.

No, this look can only mean one thing.

That we're both affected by the news we received earlier today.

Which, of course, had to be discovered in my childhood bathroom.

_______

I wake up in my childhood bed to the bright backlight of the pink battery operated alarm clock on the nightstand.

Which, as its purpose, first indicates, the time

10:33 AM

And second, the date.

19/10

Which, in itself, is also indicative of two things.

One, it is a reminder that a year ago today, I asked Alex to marry me (an unsuccessful attempt, but whatever, we are married now).

And second, another reminder, that my period is exactly two weeks late.

Which considering that Alex and I have been, for a lack of a better term, busy, the past couple of months, is not something I should hide from him.

Even if he is sleeping like a log and pressed up next to me, courtesy of our flight landing late last night.

Besides, we have to be at the Fairmount Theater later this afternoon for an Emo Nite. Why not wake him up now?

"Alex?" I prod as I shift my body so we're now face to face.

"Hmm?" he grunts in semi-consciousness.

"I'm late."

"Late?" he echoes, subtleties apparently not his thing at this hour of the morning.

"Late, late, Alex."

As he realizes exactly what I'm conveying, his eyelids instantly shoot open before he sits up against the headboard, brown pupils no longer clouded with fatigue, but with an inquisitive glare.

"How late, Elizabeth?"

"Two weeks today." I admit, as I maneuver in a sitting position across from him.