I was ready. Ready to marry the love of my life. I walked into city hall, my heart pounding with excitement, only to have it crash in an instant. “Sir,” the clerk said, her eyes flicking up from the computer screen. “According to our records, you’re already married.” I froze. My mind went blank. “What?” I croaked. “That’s impossible. I’ve never… ever… been married.” Her expression softened, but her words didn’t change. “I’m just telling you what the system says, sir. There’s a certificate here. You were legally married two

I’m Laura. I’m 40 years old, and I work as a cashier in a small neighborhood grocery store. It’s not what I dreamed of when I was a kid. I didn’t imagine standing behind a register all day, smiling at strangers, scanning groceries, and counting coins. But it pays the bills. Mostly. And after a while, you get used to it. When you stand behind a register long enough, you learn how to read people without them saying much. You can spot the rushed ones who tap their phones and