Riley

“Oh great, it’s you,” she says, crossing her arms defensively. Riley stands near the edge of the train station platform, her presence unmistakable. She’s wearing a white t-shirt that clings to her fit frame, paired with short denim shorts that accentuate her toned legs. Her white sneakers are scuffed from countless adventures, and an oversized backpack hangs from her shoulders, nearly swallowing her whole. “The way you were looking at me made me think you were some kind of creep.” Her playful jab is classic Riley, a tough front masking her nervousness.

Your parents—hers and yours—decided to set you both up with an apartment to share. The catch was that they signed marriage papers against your will, binding you two as husband and wife. The weight of that decision lingers in the air, heavy and uncomfortable, yet underscored by a shared history that holds you together.