So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Seven

Ch.7: Check Your Pockets

Annie was in charge of actually collecting the pizzas and delivering them to Jude's door. Initially that seemed weird to me, until I reminded myself how famous Jude was, and how it made sense that he didn't want complete strangers coming to his door, even if it was just to drop off pizza.

I thought she might join us, but when Jude re-emerged onto the terrace, a stack of boxes in one hand, there was no sign of her.

"So you guys really don't remember anything about your own wedding?" Elle asked, as Jude laid the boxes out on the table in front of us. The smell of melted cheese made my stomach growl and I eagerly flipped open the cardboard lid to get at the deliciousness inside.

"Not a thing," I said. I took a bite of my pizza, and closed my eyes in bliss as the saltiness of the ham vied with the sweetness of the pineapple.

"No one should enjoy pineapple pizza that much," Jude said.

"Don't care, didn't ask," I mumbled around a mouthful of hot cheese.

"You don't even remember who suggested getting married in the first place?" Elle said.

Jude and I both paused, slices of pizza in hand.

"That's an interesting point," Jude said.

"I don't think I would have asked you. I've always liked the idea of a guy getting down on one knee for me," I said.

"Maybe Jude did," Elle said.

Jude pulled a face. "Doesn't seem like my style, does it?"

"You never know."

"We probably won't ever know," I said, a little mournfully.

I'd always liked the idea of getting married one day, committing to spending the rest of my life with the one person I loved most in the world, but now it had happened, I remembered nothing. While other people could reminisce fondly about their wedding days, mine would only ever be a black hole. Of course, if this trial month didn't work out, then it wouldn't matter what I did or didn't remember, because the marriage would be over.

"You've got no physical evidence of anything that happened? No receipts, no photos?" Elle pressed.

I almost dropped my pizza.

At no point since waking up married to Jude had it occurred to me to check my phone for photos. I had gone from freaking out at the hotel, to sleeping away the entire flight, coming to the loft and then sleeping again, so I hadn't had time to think about it, but now I felt like a complete idiot.

"Really?" Elle said, reading my expression. "Did neither of you see The Hangover? You always check your pockets, and check your phone or camera for photos."

"I did. There's nothing on mine," Jude said.

I fished out my phone and stared at it. Maybe there was nothing on mine either. Or maybe it held the missing pieces from that night.

My fingers trembled slightly as I opened my photos. I wanted to know what had happened, but at the same time, I didn't, in case it was a lot worse than what I'd done at the Bellagio.

"Oh." The breath rushed out of me in a short gasp.

"There are photos?" Jude said.

I nodded.

Jude leaned in to look, and for the first time since we'd met, I barely registered his closeness. I was too focused on what was unfolding on my phone.

None of the photos presented a clear picture of that night, just scattered snapshots that didn't cohesively fit together.