Marriage Application: A Fateful Revelation

Marriage Application: A Fateful Revelation

Gavin

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"Next." The words called out at city hall, flat and mundane, were supposed to usher me into a new life with Chloe, the woman I' d loved for ten years. Chloe nudged me, impatient. "Mark, that's us. Hurry up." But as the clerk took the marriage application, her voice, initially bored, turned sharp: "Mark Peterson and... Kevin Peterson? Is this correct?" Chloe froze, her perfectly sculpted face contorting in confusion and rage. "What did you say?" The clerk pointed, revealing my brother' s name where hers should have been. "That's two male names. We can't process this." Chloe snatched the application, her eyes scanning, then fixed on me, venomous. "Mark! What is this? Why is your brother's name on here? Where's the real application?" In a flash, a memory surfaced: my past life, on my deathbed at 52, Chloe and Kevin holding hands. They demanded I sign divorce papers, asking not about my pain, but about their "true love" having waited so long. For thirty years, they had used me, behind my back, living off my money. The woman I would have died for, in another life, nearly made me. But this wasn't that life. This was my second chance. "There is no other application," I stated, my voice steady, pulling out a blank form. "You and Kevin can fill this one out. I'm sure he'll be happy to sign it." Confusion, then chilling anger warred on her face. Her perfectly crafted world was crumbling, and she had no idea why. She didn't know the story of the man she had betrayed, not really. I walked away from her, not looking back, the marriage application to my brother a stark symbol of her true place in my life-and his. This time, I' d choose my own path.

Introduction

"Next."

The words called out at city hall, flat and mundane, were supposed to usher me into a new life with Chloe, the woman I' d loved for ten years.

Chloe nudged me, impatient. "Mark, that's us. Hurry up."

But as the clerk took the marriage application, her voice, initially bored, turned sharp: "Mark Peterson and... Kevin Peterson? Is this correct?"

Chloe froze, her perfectly sculpted face contorting in confusion and rage. "What did you say?"

The clerk pointed, revealing my brother' s name where hers should have been. "That's two male names. We can't process this."

Chloe snatched the application, her eyes scanning, then fixed on me, venomous. "Mark! What is this? Why is your brother's name on here? Where's the real application?"

In a flash, a memory surfaced: my past life, on my deathbed at 52, Chloe and Kevin holding hands. They demanded I sign divorce papers, asking not about my pain, but about their "true love" having waited so long. For thirty years, they had used me, behind my back, living off my money.

The woman I would have died for, in another life, nearly made me.

But this wasn't that life. This was my second chance.

"There is no other application," I stated, my voice steady, pulling out a blank form. "You and Kevin can fill this one out. I'm sure he'll be happy to sign it."

Confusion, then chilling anger warred on her face. Her perfectly crafted world was crumbling, and she had no idea why. She didn't know the story of the man she had betrayed, not really.

I walked away from her, not looking back, the marriage application to my brother a stark symbol of her true place in my life-and his. This time, I' d choose my own path.

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