Married to the Devil

Chapter 4

"What do you mean I can't annul it?"
I asked my lawyer incredulously.

In the other room I heard Derek shouting the same thing to his lawyer.
Neither of us had lawyers. When Evelyn dropped the bomb on us that I was married to him we both hightailed it to the nearest law office to get it annulled.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Carter but there's nothing that I can do." The short, grey bearded man in front of me said.

I cringed as he said it. Mrs. Carter. Mrs. Carter. It sounded ludicrous. Almost abominable upon his lips. His mouth turned upwards slightly, his thin pink lips formed a sneer rather than an understanding smile. He didn't look very sorry.

I rubbed my temples in frustration, " I think that there's something you're not understanding here sir. I. Was. Drunk."

The old man sighed and picked up his glasses from the desk, placed them carefully on the bridge of his nose and read the paper Evelyn had handed to me. Derek had the photocopied version.

"I, Kate Williams, understand that I am now married to Derek Carter and any and all excuses to my state of health at this time of signature can be ignored as it is my responsibility to control my actions."

I cringed again. God I was gonna murder that bitch. How could she do this to me? I know our long standing war was stretched for years but this? No. This was taking it too far.

He continued, "Any and all attempts to divorce and/or separate with my new husband will result in the payment of $1 000 000, in cash, to Evelyn Reed, the sermon for this event.

And there," he stated, " Is your signature Mrs. Carter."

I clenched my jaw staring at the blue pen marks, "It's still Ms. Williams."

I angrily picked up the crinkled sheet, wrinkled unconsciously from my panicked fingers on the car ride here.

There it was. Clear as day, even as a drunkard I had still managed to elegantly scrawl my name across the marriage contract without a wobble in sight.

Damn my writing capabilies.

The grey bearded man cleared his throat, "This is the first page of many contracts you'd signed off on."

He stood slowly and walked over to the printer in 5 strides that would have taken me one. A 4-inch printed document with at least 50 different contracts appeared in his hand when he turned and shuffled back to his wide desk.

I sat on the other side, dressed in the same black hoodie that I'd had on this morning and my black heels. I got a disapproving look when I'd barged into the office demanding a lawyer. But I didn't care.

My fingers drummed against the wood in angst and frustration. The plastic chair felt cold and unpleasant on my bare legs. How could this be happening to me? How?

The man slammed the sheets onto the table and looked over at me.

"These," he gestured to the contracts, " were faxed in this morning. I'll review them and relay all the terms and conditions of your contract. Meanwhile, go home, get...changed," He eyed my appearance that barely covered my ass, "And try to get to know your new husband."

I stood unhappy with my results. "Look sir,"

"Mr. Lamar." He corrected.

"Right. Mr. Lamar, this is just some kind of mistake. I was drunk when I signed those, I had a party and I didn't know what I was doing!"

Mr. Lamar held up a hand to stop me, "I understand your frustration Mrs. Cart- uh, Williams. But these are legal documents and you should always read everything that you sign. "