I woke up the next morning with a major hangover. Taking in my surroundings, I almost forgot where I was. I sat up slowly, letting the sheets fall from my naked body, and held my hand against my forehead, as I tried to stop the world from spinning. Glancing around the room, I realized I was in Ryan's bed, but he wasn't there.

It took all my energy and willpower to force myself to swing my legs over the side of the bed. I saw a bottle of Gatorade sitting unopened on the side table. It hurt, but I smiled lightly at Ryan's thoughtfulness as I quickly opened it, taking a few small sips. I didn't want to take in too much, for fear of it all coming back out.

As my senses were kicking back in, I could smell bacon wafting through the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. I spotted a robe draped over the end of the bed, grabbed it, and threw it on. I reclaimed the bottle and slowly rose. It took me a minute as my equilibrium balanced out before I could make my way out the door.

I walked steadily down the hall, with the smells becoming more enticing, and stopped at the kitchen threshold. Ryan stood at the stove, flipping bread in a frying pan. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a white, tank-top undershirt.

He spotted me staring and flashed his signature sexy smile at me. "Good morning, sleepyhead!"

I groaned, and instinctively my free hand went back to my still throbbing head. "Please. Not so loud."

He chuckled and flipped the bread once more, before moving it to a plate that rested on the counter by the stove. "I made us Eggs in a Basket and bacon. It's my go-to breakfast whenever I have a hangover."

He moved the two filled plates over to the small table by the window and beckoned to sit. I obliged and smiled at the beautifully plated meal.

I ate about a quarter of my food and already started feeling somewhat better.

"So how was the club? Seems like you enjoyed yourself," he mentioned as he finished his last bite.

"It was great. Tracey, my cousin, won a lip sync battle, and we got to take a picture with the drag host, Jessica Rabbit!"

"That does sound like fun." He smiled as he stood. "Are you done?" 

I nodded, and he proceeded to collect the plates and placed them in the sink. The clanking of the dishes made me wince slightly, but it was tolerable.

I saw the time on his microwave, realizing I should probably get back to my apartment, to my parents. I stood up, walked over to Ryan, and rested my hand on his chest. "Thank you for last night. And for being my hero this morning."

He leaned down and kissed me. "Anything to make you happy."

I couldn't help but blush. "Do you mind if I use your shower quickly before I head home?"

"You don't have to ask." He kissed me again. "Mind if I join you?"

I smirked. "You don't have to ask."

*****

By the time I got back to my apartment, it was almost lunchtime. My parents had spent the morning utilizing the gym on the ground floor of my building and packing. I was sad that they were flying home so soon and begged them to change flights so they could stay one more day with me. My father laughed at the suggestion and reminded me how much it would cost to switch their tickets last minute.

I had picked up a pizza on the way home, and we enjoyed eating our lunch while sitting around my living room. It was nice talking to them and catching up on what we had all done the day prior. 

My father told us about Eric's bachelor party. They had spent the day at Chelsea Piers, Golf Club driving range, and then they switched gears and went into the city for dinner. He mentioned that he headed back to my apartment as the rest of the young men went out. He didn't specify where, and I didn't really know either. But then again, I didn't really care to know.

After lunch, I cleaned up as they collected their bags to head out.

My mom scanned their belongings that rested against the front door. "I think that's everything. If I forgot anything, I'll just pick it up when we come back in a few weeks."

"Sounds good. Thank you both again for flying all this way for just the weekend," I said as I hugged them one at a time.

My mom tucked a hair of mine behind my ear and smiled lovingly. "Now you and Eric enjoy yourselves this last month. Don't let the little things stress you out, okay?"

I nodded.

"And I'm serious about what I said before," my father stated. "If you don't feel that this is what you want, you can always change your mind."

I nodded again. "I know, Dad. And thank you. It means the world to hear you say that."

We each grabbed a bag and made our way to the elevator.

As we were riding down, my mom commented, "By the way, I really liked meeting Ryan. He seems like a very nice young man. And he seems to think very highly of you."

My face flushed. "Yeah. He's great! Well, he was a little tough to get along with at first. But the more we worked together, the more I got to know him. Turns out he's really thoughtful and caring."

"That's a good person to have in your life," my father added.

"I'm glad you guys like him. I know he liked meeting you."

"How do you know that?" My dad looked confused.

Thankfully we all turned our attention to the doors as they opened to the ground floor. I led the way off the elevator and through the lobby to the entrance. The cab I called ahead for was waiting out front. The driver hopped out and loaded the suitcases into the trunk while I said goodbye to my parents once more.

As I watched my parents drive away, I suddenly had a flashback from the night before. I remembered telling Sasha that she needed to object to the wedding. Feeling a sudden sense of excitement, I ran back inside to get up to my apartment and hash out a plan to break up my own wedding.

******

Over the next week, whenever I had a free moment, I would research everything I could on objecting to a wedding. According to everything I read online and every YouTube video I watched, objections weren't really done the way they show in the movies.

An objection would only work if there was a legal reason that the county clerk didn't already know about before they issued the marriage license. Though, this could actually work in my favor, because we had already completed our marriage license task back in March, before I was forced to stay with Eric. Now that our wedding was being forced upon me, it was technically not a legal marriage.

My only issue would be that I would probably have to prove that I was being forced to marry Eric. Had I known that sooner, I would have recorded my conversation with him and especially the one I had with his mother. If I could find a way to get them to admit it again, Sasha could perhaps play the recording at the wedding. That way, everyone could hear the proof that I was going through with it against my will.

The more I thought about it, the more I loved my idea. But then there were moments when I started doubting the idea of going through with it. Especially when I would talk to my parents on the phone. I'd remember that even if the wedding was put to a stop and didn't go through, that Mrs. Walton would follow through on her retaliation and destroy my dad's business.

There had to be a way to escape this nightmare, but how?

I sat on Sasha's couch that Friday night, explaining everything I researched to her and Becca. Both of them stared at me like I was crazy.

"Vicky, why don't you just tell your parents what's going on?" Becca questioned.

"How would that make a difference?"

"Well, have you considered that maybe your parents know powerful people too?" She pointed out. "The fact that your dad owns a marina where rich people store their yachts means there has to be at least one of them that your dad is friends with. At least enough to have his back against the Walton's."

"I hadn't considered that." I stared thoughtfully at Becca.

"Oh! Here's the moment!" Sasha interjected, pointing at the TV.

It was the season finale of 'The Bachelor,' and he was about to see the woman he was choosing to spend the rest of his life with. Usually, I would have loved watching it, but in the mental state I was in, I almost felt bad for them. They were probably being forced to marry each other all because they wanted to be famous. Did they even truly love each other enough to get married?

I huffed at seeing the bachelor, in his charming formal suit, kneeling in front of a beautifully dressed, blonde woman. "She looks too young to get married."

"She's older than you are!" Sasha stated without taking her eyes off the romantic scene that unfolded.

"My point exactly!"

Becca laughed and agreed with me, which caused Sasha to quickly look away from the show to her. "Do you think we were too young to get married?"

"We're the exception." Becca smiled and rubbed her hand on Sasha's arm.

"Damn right, we are!" Sasha returned her attention to the couple who was now kissing passionately as the camera panned out across the tropical setting.

I thought about what they said. Were they the exception? Was I too young to get married? My parents were around my age when they tied the knot. Though it was a different time, and getting married in their early twenties was the norm.

Sasha looked at me and frowned when she saw the expression on my face. "You're the exception too."

I smiled at her for trying to make me feel better. "I appreciate the gesture, but I think I am the rule. I should have never jumped into a commitment with anyone at twenty-three. I was just swept up at the moment and feared being alone. I never considered the life I should have made for myself before settling down."

"Oh, honey." Sasha pulled away from Becca and draped her arm across my shoulder and pulled me into her side. "Don't worry. It'll all work out. Just have a little faith that the universe is on your side. I'm sure we'll figure it out before you have to utter the words, 'I do.'"

I didn't respond. I just let her cradle me as we watched the end of the show. They were interviewing the women who weren't picked and the bachelor with his new fiance. When they revealed who would be their next Bachelorette, my mind still kept wandering back to a feeling of sadness for them. Sadness that they had no idea what they were really getting themselves into.