Five Feet Closer- Sequel to Five Feet Apart-

WILL

Stella looked gorgeous. As usual, but tonight it was just... WOW. 

Shit. How the heck did I end up with her? Right. I asked. That's not the point though. 

It really threw me for a loop when she agreed to couples therapy. It was an idea I had heard a while ago. I had asked my old girlfriend, Shelby, to do it on our 5th date. And she just laughed at my face and told me how stupid I was to think of that she would ever to do that. 

But Stella said yes. 

We started to make our way there, but then a thought flew to my brain. "Wait."

Stella turned to me. "Change of plans?"

"No," I shook my head. "We need rings."

"How are we going to get wedding rings?"

I turned to Stella. "Lets make a quick stop to my house."

*                                         *                                    *

Stella and I ran to my mom's room. My mom loved rings. She wore them 24/7. I don't think she would mind if I borrowed two. 

I picked out one with tiny diamonds all around it. I got down on one knee in front of Stella. 

"Oh my god, William Mitchell Newman." Stella was cracking up. 

"Stella Anne Grant," I couldn't hide a smile. "I love you. And I would love for you to become my fake wife right now. We could skip the wedding planning and get married right now. So will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Stella was clutching her stomach. 

I slid the ring on her finger before standing up. "Now we need to kiss. To make this, you know, fake-official."

"Seriously?!" 

"Yes."

"Fine." And with that, she inched closer to me. I brought our lips together. Stella pulled away, laughing. 

I found a guys ring in my mom's jewelry box, and I'm guessing it belonged to my father. I don't know. And I don't really want to know. 

I grabbed Stella's hand. "Let's get to it, Mrs. Newman."

*                                *                                    *

We arrived at the counseling place, or whatever you want to call it. Stella and I walked in, looking pissed. I had secretly made an appointment earlier that day, in case Stella agreed to do this. 

And here we are. 

I signed us in and we both sat multiple seats away from each other.  Eventually, the counseling lady called us both in. 

"Hi," The lady started. She was short and had straight black hair. "I'm Donna. And you guys are?"

"I'm James Gritter," I said before pointing to Stella. "And this- demon- is Sally Gritter."

Stella, aka Sally, pulled a shocked expression. "How dare thee!"

"Alright," Donna calmed Stella down. "So what about James drives you crazy?"

"Well," Stella's face was pinched up. "He breathes to loud, he constantly misses the toilet, he has weird teeth, and his laugh sounds like a dying cat on bath salts."

"OK," Donna turned to me. "What do you both argue about?"

"We argue about who the dog likes better, who the aliens would like more if they abducted us, if you get a receipt when you get an abortion, if frosting turns a muffin into a cupcake, who painted the Mona Lisa, and if green flowers exist." 

"Oh," Donna looked disturbed. " Have you tried asking Google these questions?"

"Google isn't as smart as you think." I leaned forward. "Google once told me that the true definition of recycling is wearing your underwear inside out over and over to save water. And that got me my first divorce. And, Google had the nerve to say that Cole Sprouse and Lili Reinhart broke up. Unbelievable." 

"So when did your relationship go downhill?" Donna proceeded. 

"WHEN HE TOLD ME THAT THE FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE USA WAS ELVIS PRESLEY!" Stella aka Sally shouted. "AND WHEN HE SAID THAT THERE WAS NO CHOLESTEROL IN A CHICKEN SANDWICH! THAT'S WHEN I KNEW IT WAS OVER."

"Uhh..." Donna was speechless. "How long have you been married?"

"Three weeks." I stated. "We met in a debate club. They were discussing if candy corn was candy or a vegetable." 

"How's your sex life?" Donna buried her hands in her hair.

"What the hell do you mean? He's a guy and I'm a girl. That's our sex life." Stella scoffed. 

"You know what?" Donna stood up. "I'm out. Get some help else wear. Read the Bible."

 "Your our freaking therapist." I shot back. "You should be helping our marriage. Obviously, its suffering."

"I give up," Donna walked to the door. "Your marriage is past the gone."

Stella just threw a tantrum and walked out the door. I stood up, and clapped my hands together. "Well, bottom line is that Sally is the messed up one out of the two of us. Have a good day, Donna."

I sauntered out of the building, trying not to laugh. 

Now, where was Stella?