On Valentine’s Day, I Issued My Fiancé and His Female Best Friend a License—By Morning, I Was Gone

At 3:00 PM, my phone rang from an unknown number.

I answered it because I was sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for the dry cleaner to return my coat.

"Nora?"

It was Ava. Her voice didn't have any of the light, breathy confidence it had possessed when she was leaning over my counter wearing Ryan’s shirt. She sounded small, sharp, and frantic—like a person who had accidentally set fire to a curtain while trying to light a birthday candle and was now realizing the garden hose was disconnected.

"Yes, Ava," I said.

"Nora, you need to talk to the county clerk's office," she said rapidly, without greeting or preamble. "I’m at my lawyer’s office right now—my dad’s corporate lawyer—and he says because you were the officer who issued the license knowing it was done as a prank, there might be a conflict of interest or administrative misconduct on your part that could invalidate the filing."

I almost smiled. It was the first time in twenty-four hours that I felt a genuine spark of amusement.

"Ava," I said, "do you know what Section 122.040 of the Nevada Code says?"

"I don't care about the code!" she snapped.

"It says that a county clerk who refuses to issue a marriage license to two individuals who present valid government identification, meet the age requirements, and are not currently married to other parties is subject to a civil fine and a charge of official dereliction," I said. "You presented valid IDs. You were both sober enough to sign your names. You both stated under digital recording that you were executing the document voluntarily. If I had refused to issue that license based on my personal relationship with the groom, that would have been official misconduct."

Silence on the line. I could hear the faint sound of a law office printer running in the background.

"You did it on purpose," Ava whispered. Her tone changed suddenly from angry to horrified. "You knew... you knew if you stamped it, we couldn't just throw it away."

"I did my job, Ava," I said. "Just like Ryan did his. He wanted to be a good sport for your stream. He wanted to show everyone how fun you two are together. How easy everything is between you."

"Nora, I don't want to be married to him!" she shrieked. "He’s... he doesn't clean up after himself! He’s been sitting on my sofa for four hours blowing his nose into my paper towels and complaining that his stomach hurts! He’s wearing my dad’s old sweatpants! He’s a mess!"

"He likes his coffee with two sugars and oat milk," I said calmly. "And if his stomach hurts, it’s because he drinks cold brew on an empty stomach when he’s stressed. You should know that. You’ve been his best friend for eight years."

"Nora, please—"