The Twisted World I Got Wrapped Up in When I Agreed to Marry a Rich Older Man: Part 1

My much older fiancé, Kee­gan, and I decided to start work­ing on our wed­ding plans. He had a list of 300 peo­ple, just on his side. He had it prepped and ready, which was com­pletely shock­ing for him to be so pre­pared. Although, I guess he waited 40-some years to finally get mar­ried to the right girl, and it was finally hap­pen­ing. He still likes to joke about how he is the envy of all his col­lege bud­dies, cowork­ers, and friends still to this day—after all, he’s the one who took longer, but then scored a hot younger woman.

Every time I sat down to write out my list of peo­ple to invite, it always boiled down to the same 20 or so. We decided on a fall wedding.

About a week later as I was win­dow shop­ping for flow­ers, I started feel­ing queasy and faint. Kee­gan picked me up and we drove home together. I knew what was wrong, but I didn’t tell him any­thing. The minute I got home, I ran to the bath­room and took another preg­nancy test. This time it was positive.

I just sat there star­ing at this pos­i­tive preg­nancy test in this awful bath­room with foam green plas­tic tiles on the walls and pink shag car­pet from the pre­vi­ous owner who built the home in the 50s. All I could think about was how on earth we would get this remod­el­ing done before the baby arrives.

An hour had passed and I was still sit­ting in the bath­room. “Knock, knock. Can I come in?” Kee­gan asked as he cracked the door open and peeked in with a wor­ried look on his face.

Yes, of course you can come in. I have to tell you some­thing…” It was like he had bro­ken me out of a “paral­y­sis by analy­sis trance.”

He looked at me with this ques­tion­ing look in his eyes. “Is it good news?” he asked, look­ing at the test in my hand.

I handed him the test with­out say­ing any­thing. He looked at it smil­ing, before look­ing up at me and hug­ging me. “You poor thing,” he said laugh­ing. “Your belly is going to get all kinds of huge,” he said, laugh­ing even harder.

I refuse to walk down the aisle and get mar­ried while I’m preg­nant, and there’s no way we’re get­ting mar­ried in court,” I said firmly.

Why not? What, so you want to wait and get mar­ried after the baby is born?” asked Keegan.

Yes.”

Well, at least your tits will be huge,” he chuckled—typical Keegan.

So, it was settled—our wed­ding was put on hold for an inde­ter­mi­nate amount of time. Even though it was my deci­sion, I strug­gled with it reg­u­larly, not want­ing to give birth to a child out of wed­lock, hav­ing been born out of mar­riage myself. My mother chose to have four kids with a man who was 40 years her senior, but they weren’t mar­ried. Look­ing at pic­tures of them back then, my father did not look like he was in his 70s when I was born. This gave me a lot of hope, because he stuck around, and as much as I hate to admit it, the sim­i­lar­i­ties between my father and my fiancé were uncanny.

Fast for­ward eight months to our beau­ti­ful baby being born with a head full of hair, but it wasn’t an easy preg­nancy. I had mas­sive com­pli­ca­tions and my poor fiancé was forced to go with­out sex for nearly six months. So, dur­ing this absti­nent time, I offered to do some­thing crazy, some­thing that no other girl­friend, fiancée, or wife would ever agree to…