Victoria’s Diary
April 19, 2017
Today I got married.
I’m married!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I can’t even believe it. And honestly, the entire trip has been magical so far. Like a fairytale. Well, a fairytale that happens in Las Vegas. But I love Las Vegas. I want to move here. The hotel we’re at is like something out of a storybook. The entire first floor is made out of waterways and this morning Adam and I took a gondola ride. A gondola ride! Honest to goodness!
Adam has been the most romantic and sweet guy in the world for the last three weeks. We should fight more if this is the result. He brought home flowers every night, and he’s always telling me how much he loves me and how he’s the luckiest guy in the world to have me. He even bought a new toothpaste and he said it was for the two of us. We’re finally sharing toothpaste! It’s like the fear of losing me turned him into a different person. I’m so glad I didn’t do anything crazy and leave him that night.
The chapel where we got married was actually really tasteful. I was scared that it was going to be extremely gaudy because, you know, Vegas. But it was a sweet little white chapel with purple trim, and the inside had lots of seats like a real church. And the person who married us was a man in a suit—not Elvis or anything. Yes, Elvis was an option, but we decided against it (although I was a little tempted).
We couldn’t stop grinning at each other when the minister read us our vows. It was so surreal. One year ago, I didn’t even have a boyfriend. Now I was pledging my life to this man. And I felt really good about it! I made the right decision.
Then we went back to our hotel and Adam carried me across the threshold. It was so freaking romantic! And then we spent the next two hours in bed.
In bed with my husband.
My husband! Husband husband husband… I can’t stop saying that word! This will never get old.
I knew it. I knew from the second I laid eyes on him, this was going to happen. This was fate. Adam was fated to cut his hand and end up in the emergency room, just so we could meet.
After we were spent, we shared a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream from the minibar, then ordered room service for dinner. At that point, Adam said he wanted to go play some blackjack at the casino downstairs. He wanted me to come with him—he said I would be his good luck charm. I was tempted but I was too absolutely exhausted from the day.
So, in summary, in case you missed it, I’m now married. (Eeeeek!) And I’m lying in our king size bed, re-reading Adam’s first novel, All in the Family. I was reading it yesterday during the plane flight over here, and now I’m nearly finished with it. It’s just amazing as I remember—no wonder it was so popular.
I’m not surprised the book upset Adam’s family. The plot centers around a guy in his twenties with an incredibly toxic family. If this book is based on reality, I don’t blame Adam for not wanting anything to do with his parents. It sounds like they were miserable people who rooted for him to fail every step of the way.
In the novel, the parents finally threaten to cut the protagonist out of their will in favor of his sycophantic older brother. The hero subsequently plots the death of his parents and his brother, which is ultimately successful. And he gets away with everything.
So in summary, I can see why his parents weren’t fans of the book.
Still, I haven’t given up on the idea of a reconciliation between Adam and my new in-laws. Someday Adam and I will have children, and I would love for those children to know their grandparents. But I’m not going to ruin our honeymoon by bringing it up right now. We’ll talk about it when the time is right
In the meantime, I’m going to keep reading and wait for my husband to get back to our hotel room.
My husband.
I can’t believe I’m married!
April 20, 2017 (very early)
I cannot believe this.
It’s four in the goddamn morning and Adam still hasn’t come back to our hotel room. At first, I was waiting up for him to be romantic, but around two in the morning, it stopped being romantic. I called him and he didn’t pick up. I called him repeatedly.
At three in the morning, I went downstairs. I walked around the casino like a crazy person, trying to find my husband. I probably sounded like such a loser.
“He’s about five foot eleven, brown hair, early thirties,” I said to one waitress who was carrying a full tray of cocktails. “He’s really… um, handsome.”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, hon. I hope you find him.”
Of course, I didn’t. I called him about twenty more times and left increasingly furious messages. I still haven’t heard back.
I thought about calling the police. I’m still thinking about it. I mean, something really bad may have happened to him. What if he got mugged and is lying unconscious in the street? But I can just imagine how it would sound if I called the police and explained that my husband went to the casino a few hours ago and now I can’t find him. They would laugh at me.
I really hope he’s all right.
And if he is, I’m going to kill him.
April 20, 2017
Well, I never would have expected my honeymoon to end up this way.
Adam didn’t get back until this morning. The sun was already up when he returned to the hotel. I was engulfed by our giant king-size bed, tossing and turning for most of the night. I probably got an hour of sleep in scattered ten-minute blocks. So when he walked in the door wearing the same clothes from last night, not looking like he’d been beaten to a bloody
pulp, and whistling a little tune under his breath, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hug him or throw something at him.
“Where were you all night?” I screamed at him. I’m not even going to pretend I wasn’t screaming. I was definitely screaming. The fight we were going to have was going to be a screaming fight.
“At the casino,” he said.
Of course, I knew that was a lie. I had looked for him at the casino. If he had been at that casino, I would’ve found him.
So then his story became that he went to another casino on the strip, because he heard those casinos were better. I asked him where he heard that, and he mumbled something about how a waitress had told him. And that’s when we got to the crux of the story.
“Did you go to the other casino with that waitress?” I asked. He just shrugged and looked away. “What’s the difference?”
Right. Because why should I care if my husband went on a date with another woman on our wedding night? Why should that bother me?
The truth is, I’m starting to realize that all the things that first attracted me to Adam are the things I hate about him now. I mean, I’m glad my husband is handsome, but why does he have to be so unbelievably handsome? Why does he have to have so much money to throw around? Why does he have to give girls Jell-O legs when he smiles? Why does every woman who meets him have to fall half in love with him?
And why does he have to flirt back?
Of course, it’s the last part that bothers me. If he didn’t flirt back, it could be something we would joke about. Ha ha, the naïve waitress thinks she’s got a chance with me.
“Stop acting so jealous, Victoria,” he said. “Is that what you want to be? A jealous, nagging wife?”
“No, I want to be a wife whose husband doesn’t abandon her on her wedding night!”
It only got worse from there. I’m not going to re-create it here. But believe me, it was brutal. If you want to imagine the worst conversation you would ever want to have with the man you married yesterday, that was our fight.
But even so, I thought we would work it out. I mean, we just got married! But when the fight entered its second hour, I could see the red in
Adam’s cheeks, and I knew he was never going to admit what he did was wrong. Because he didn’t believe it was wrong. The only way this fight was ever going to end would be if I apologized for yelling at him and admitted I was a jealous, nagging wife. And heck no, I was not going to do that.
Still, I was surprised when he started packing his things.
“What are you doing?” I said as I watched him throw his jeans and shirts into our big brown luggage.
“What do you think?” He took a moment to fold one of his shirts. “I’m not going to share a room with somebody who thinks I’m a cheater. I’m leaving.”
“You’re getting another room?” “No, I’m going back to New York.”
I opened my mouth to ask him if he was serious, but I didn’t have to. I could see in his eyes that he meant it.
So that’s that. My husband has packed his things and abandoned me one day into our honeymoon. I don’t even have a bag to pack my clothes, because he took it with him. And our return plane ticket isn’t for another week and it’s in Adam’s name, which means if I want to go home, I’ll have to buy a new ticket myself.
How did this become my life?
April 24, 2017
At some point, you realize you have two choices:
- You admit that your two-day-old marriage was a huge mistake. And when you come back to work from your honeymoon, and everyone asks you how it was, you get to tell them you got divorced during the honeymoon. Making it the worst honeymoon ever in the history of the world.
- You suck it up and try to make it work
If I told Victoria of one year ago what Adam had done to me and that I took him back, she would have laughed. She would have insisted I had
more pride than that. But when I got home and Adam immediately threw his arms around me, my resolve faded.
This man is my husband now. I made a commitment to him. I do not want to get a divorce three days into my marriage. I don’t want to throw everything away over one bad fight. I mean, every marriage has growing pains.
Right???
