Isla
Okay, baby. I only have two classes today, so I should be home before five. Have a good practice.
Lecture starts and as I take notes on activities that pediatric cancer patients can do before procedures to help with nervousness, my messages blow up. Luckily, I have the volume off on my laptop or I would have been disrupting the professor. The first message is from Adriana.
Adriana
You couldn’t call me to tell me you gotMARRIED.
Isla
How did you know? We did it this morning before class and his practice.
Adriana
LINK
I open the Instagram link and sure enough, my lovely husband posted the photo his mom took of us kissing at the courthouse.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Kai.” I mumble, scrolling through the comments of people congratulating him and us and then the negative comments.
“He can do way better than her.”
“Talk about average.”
“Why is he settling for that? Come on, #7, slide into my DMs.”
Now, I knew being in a public relationship with Kai as a professional baseball player was going to bring some challenges, other women wanting him being one of them. Was I ready for it to hit full force the day we got married?
No, I wasn’t.
I text Adriana back.
Isla
So he is trying to give me a heart attack and we haven’t even been married for twenty-four hours yet.
Adriana
He’s your husband. That man would crawl on his hands and knees for you, Isla. Fuck the thirsty putas.
I exit out of our conversation and freeze.
Steve Jacobsen
Don’t do this to yourself, Isla.
Sighing, I click on his message and immediately I want to go back in time and not click it.
Steve
You’re fucking married.
We broke up a few weeks ago, Isla. And you’re fucking married.
Miss “I’m not ready for marriage.”
Okay, he’s mad. I can understand that. He’s allowed to be mad.
