Married At 9AM, Divorced At 10AM Chapter 01

Married At 9AM, Divorced At 10AM Chapter 01

Jake Morrison and I had just gotten our marriage license on February 14th.

Immediately after, he booked an appointment for our divorce.

“License is done. Photos are taken. Social media post is ready to go.”

He looked at me with a casual smile. “I gave you all the romantic gestures you wanted, babe. Don’t be late for the divorce tomorrow.”

I froze, thinking it must be some sick joke.

Just the night before, he had stayed up for two hours refreshing the county clerk’s website just to snag the first appointment slot on Valentine’s Day.

Back then, I was so touched I posted about it online, and everyone was jealous.

[I’ve been following them for a while. He doesn’t have much money, but he gives her all the romance and attention he can.]

The $14.88 Valentine’s small gift. The $52.50 anniversary transfer. The $99.99 birthday surprise.

“Money can always be earned later,” he would say, “but love needs to be shown right now.”

Then I found his chat history with another woman.

That was when I realized, the cheap romantic gestures were for me. The real money was going to someone else.

The biggest amount he ever sent me was ninety-nine dollars.

But to her? Ten thousand, fifty thousand, a hundred thousand, just like that.

Finally, I understood.

Money and romance could be split between two women.

The next day, I showed up at the courthouse like I promised.

This time, I didn’t need the romantic gestures.

I wanted something else.

—

“Make sure you set an alarm for tomorrow.”

That was what Jake said before turning and walking away.

He told me he had to go pick up delivery orders and earn money to support us. That once he had enough, he could stand tall in front of my parents and ask for my hand properly.

I froze for a second.

I ran after him out of the building and tripped on the front steps.

My gold bracelet scraped against the concrete edge.

A big chunk of the gold plating peeled off, revealing silver underneath. I quickly checked it.

My chest tightened.

A few days ago, when I was getting ready to take him back to Portsville to meet my parents, I lied to him.

I said I had won a giveaway at the mall. Then I borrowed five thousand dollars, transferred the money into his account, and had him buy the bracelet for me.

I just wanted to show my parents I was doing well. That way, they’d agree to let me move far away to be with him.

How could it be gold plated?

I had told him my parents were in the gold business before they lost their fortune. They would see through a fake bracelet in one look.

My chest clenched.

My first thought was that he was in trouble again and had swapped the real bracelet for a fake just to get by.

Then my phone rang. It was Megan. She asked if everything went smoothly with the license.

“Smooth,” I said, touching the bracelet on my wrist with a wry smile. “So smooth that I have to go back tomorrow to file for divorce.”

Megan laughed. “Stop messing with me. You two are literally the last couple I still have faith in.”

Then she sent me a honeymoon guide.

“You always wanted to go here, right? I saved this guide for you. Perfect for newlyweds on a budget like you two!”

I mumbled something and hung up.

Honeymoon?

I had forgotten how long it had been since I left this city. I had been saving every penny to help him pay off his debt.

I couldn’t even afford a plane ticket back to Portsville.

I went back to our studio apartment in Fairhaven.

Sitting on the bed, I scrolled through my social media posts from the past three years.

Screenshots of $14.88 gifts. $99.99 anniversary transfers. A birthday wish at midnight with $52.50.

I used to think these little gestures were what held us together.

But somewhere along the way, the gestures became the main event, and getting married was just a formality.