Montana

I lean my forehead against the cool window glass. Though my eyes peer toward the Vegas Strip, I see nothing. The cool air-conditioner feels good on my face. I’m married. I got drunk and married to a guy I met only two days ago. I married a freaking rock star.

My parents will be ashamed. They raised me better than this. They instilled in me that marriage isn’t a frivolous decision and should be a lifelong promise.

My older brother will kill me. I ...