The Burg was a very simple environment, with very easy rules. Everyone living there abided to the same set of rules and usually they involved family – one way or another. Rumours aside, it was always a competition in regards of everything. Whose kids were the smartest? And got accepted to the best schools? Who brought home the best boyfriend/girlfriend? Who landed the best job? And when your life came to an – hopefully natural and very late – end, it was all about your last farewell. The funeral. Of course, there was one thing that topped all the others. Weddings.

From an early age, Burg girls were more or less prepped to have only that one goal in life really. And a wedding could redo a lot of previous damage. Your kid didn't get into Stanford or didn't land that job as a lawyer with that prestigious company? Their choice in partner lacked envy? Well, with the biggest and most pretentious wedding all could be erased. Families started saving the moment they learned about the soon-to-be-born offspring and those who didn't were seemingly mortgaging their houses. Just for one single, perfect day. Mind you, perfect for the parents to present whatever accomplishment that was supposed to show off to people they otherwise hated. Their kids usually wouldn't maybe classify the day as perfect, but no one asked them to begin with. This wasn't about them anyway. This was about what they could do for their family.

Guest lists were usually miles long and depending on how known your family was, it could easily be that you didn't even know half the guests coming to your wedding.

For the longest time my mother had probably planned the perfect wedding for Morelli and me, just to be able to present me with an already done deal when I would announce that we finally got our shit together. When instead of doing that actually announced that we once and for all called it quits and were done with each other, my mother probably had a heart attack and saw her chance of upstaging everyone gone forever. She didn't speak to me for almost three weeks – though, I do like to think it wasn't because she missed out on a wedding for me. That's how invested Burg women were to Burg weddings.

Though, she might maybe see her chances rise again since Carlos and I had been rather steady for the last three years. I had been told she had mentioned - and not very subtly – for him to get his ass moving and get down on one knee. I personally had no need for him to do that. Not because I was a commitment phobic, but because I didn't need a piece of paper to remind me of my love for him. He had similar views and I couldn't be happier. Well, not according to my mother.

The reason why weddings were so much on my mind right now was pretty simple. It was the season for them and it seemed everyone and their mother – quiet literally – got married between now and the next few months. There was Connie for one, who married Cal who neither me nor my man even had known to be dating Connie. Then there was Mary Lou who had decided that she and Lenny wanted to do one of these Hollywood things, were people renewed their vows. Lula had managed to find some poor to get hitched to as well. And no, it wasn't Tank. Surprisingly enough, Tank actually seemed relieved that this chapter in his life could finally be closed. There were also a couple of other weddings of people I hardly knew but were invited nevertheless – did I mentioned the obsession in the Burg with weddings and outdoing each other? – and to all of them Carlos accompanied me almost dutifully. While I certainly loved him for that and not making me go myself, I also felt like a slight obligation. Well, obligation to events where even I didn't really know who invited me. I assumed he actually enjoyed Connie's wedding – well, seeing that he was Best Man of Cal it would also have been hard to get out of it anyway-, seemed amused by Lula's event and liked Mary Lou enough to be genuinely happy to be there. There was however one wedding he couldn't accompany me to – which in all fairness was totally okay by me. That man had a life after all and it certainly didn't just evolve around weddings for four months because it was on everyone else's minds.

Elena and I had gone to school together and could be considered acquaintances. Truth was, I wasn't really liking her, but same could probably be said about her. I figured the invite in my mailbox was sent from her mother, without the bride-to-be knowing. I had heard through several people that she was marrying some big shot investment banker and was a top candidate for the best and biggest Burg wedding of the year and the previous ten years as well. Which might explain my invitation. I hadn't really planned on showing to be honest, mainly because I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do there. Chances were, I wouldn't know anyone, especially since Elena and me moved in entirely different circles – in high school as well as now. Of course, I would know some people, this was the Burg after all. And I would be able to do the usual small talk, keeping me busy for an hour or maybe two. And after that I could maybe find a reason to leave. Another option was that I also could just not go, but the manners I was raised on didn't allow such atrocious behaviour. Weddings and funerals all were about the invites. You got a hotly sought-after invite, you went. Unspoken rule. So, I RSVP'd and let my guy know. He had scheduling conflicts and let me know he wouldn't be able to make it. Not a big deal. Or so I thought, until I realized how easy of prey a single woman at a wedding was. Prey to desperate – and most often drunk – guys as well as privy and nosy Burg-habitants. Or the bride herself.

"I always knew I'd get married before you, but I figured you'd be able to at least show up with a boyfriend at least," Elena said while approaching me at the bar. The ceremony had been over for maybe a good half hour and by now everyone was just mingling and congratulating the happy couple, waiting for dinner to be served.

"I always knew you'd get married before me as well. Just figured it would happen 10 years earlier," I replied, taking a sip of the Gin Tonic I had just ordered. "And my boyfriend was occupied elsewhere."

"I bet he was," she said, smiling at me in a way that indicated she didn't even believe I had a boyfriend. Not that I cared much for what she believed. I was long past an age where I needed people to actually believe I achieved something. It didn't mean anything when you yourself didn't feel like you did. "You know, there's a thing called escort service. You can order yourself a companion these days, saves you from showing up at these events all by yourself."

"Is that how you met your husband? Did he order you and you fell in love? How romantic and so Hollywood," I shot back, wondering what her point was? Didn't she have guests to entertain?

"Very funny," she replied, and her strained smile told me how she didn't find it funny. "We met at a charity event."

"Was it an auction and he bought you? Cause that would explain so many things."

"Actually, it was, but the other way around. I placed a bid on him," she smiled, almost as if that had been the biggest accomplishment to mankind. Feminism apparently had a long way to go still. "It was love at first sight and six months after our first meeting we stand here, in front of our closest family and friends and commit to each other in an intimate ceremony."

This ceremony had been anything but intimate, and I was living proof that it wasn't just closest family and friends, enforcing my point that invitations had probably been sent out by her mother.

"Congratulations," I said, repeating my earlier sentiment when I had congratulated her right after the ceremony had come to an end. And in all fairness, it was said in earnest. I might not care much for this wedding or for Elena and her groom, but if she was happy…good for her. Though, to me it seemed like other people's validation was more important to her than how happy she truly was. Typical Burg-issue really.

"I know, he's quite some catch," she said, irritating me for a second, since her response seemed an odd one to my well-wishes. Instead of answering I just nodded, thinking that might be the best reply. "I'm certain your 'boyfriend' is doing alright as well. Wherever he might be," she said, adding air quotes to 'boyfriend' enforcing once more her belief that my guy wasn't real. Almost like we were both teenagers and one of us needed to make up a guy who was interested enough in us.

"I'm actually right here," I heard a very familiar voice coming out of the blue and a second later an arm wrapped itself around my waist. I'm not sure who was more surprised: me or Elena.

"I thought you couldn't make it?" I said, trying to clear my confusion and not getting too distracted by the vision Carlos Manoso in a suit presented.

"I moved a few meetings around, wanting to not leave you by yourself for too long," he said, pressing a kiss against my temple. I might have leaned into him until I was melting into him really. No shame.

"You know I can be by myself for a day, don't you?" I asked playful and saw him grin at me before pressing another kiss against my temple.

"Not at a wedding, Babe," he remarked and sounded for odd reasons very serious. The two of us had forgotten about Elena who most likely was still trying to recover from her surprise. Eventually she found her ability to form words.

"So, you the escort then?" she asked, and I wanted to hit her for a second.

"I'm Steph's partner, yes."

"How much did she pay you? Just out of curiosity…"

"Not sure, how your relationship works, but if money is exchanged, I have not much faith for your marriage," Ranger replied almost cool. "I usually like to see my girlfriend happy and smiling. That is mostly my main reason for doing things. To add to her happiness. If your partner isn't doing that for you, you need to find yourself someone new STAT."

"Are you telling me you really are her boyfriend? You?" she asked, sounding as if she couldn't believe it. Well, some days I couldn't believe it either. Just to make her case, she let her eyes roam freely up and down his body, just to look at me again at the end of her assertation.

"Yes," Ranger simply said without much fanfare. "Took me quiet a few years to wear her down," he added after a long pause, and I saw the look of disbelief in Elena's face. Well, seeing that I knew he hadn't really spent years wearing me down, but rather had the two of us spent years being stupid, I sort of couldn't disagree with her.

"You see, that's where I know this is a setup and just a story without any truth. Why would you chase after her of all people? She's nothing special."

"Someone who's more concerned with what everyone else thinks and surrounds herself rather with people from who's social status she profits wouldn't understand what special means. You wouldn't be able to see the character, kindness and gentleness Stephanie has because you don't care or don't even have an eye for it. These sorts of qualities don't seem to exist in your life; therefore, you wouldn't know how to appreciate them."

"If she is so special, why haven't you two set a set yet? After all, I don't see a ring."

"Because she has no need for a wedding. And I respect her wishes. That's how a balanced relationship usually works. That and loads of hot and steamy sex."

I saw Elena swallow visibly at the last part of his statement, but before she could say anything else, Carlos repeated my earlier words of congratulations and excused us a second later, steering me by my elbow away from the bride.

"I just want you to know, that if I ever have to get tied down to a guy, you tick all the right boxes," I said grinning at him when we were out of earshot and diving in for a quick lip lock. Which wasn't as quick when his hand grabbed onto my head, held me in place and he deepened the kiss.

Truth was, he really did tick all the right boxes as odd as it sounded. After three years of dating, I was still feeling all warm and fuzzy when just thinking about him and us. And my heart might or might now skip a beat whenever I actually lay eyes on him. He didn't need to know these particulars, since I knew as awesome as he was, he was also a guy and that might be just a little too much on the emotional mush side.

"Good to know. And just so you know, you tick all the right boxes as well," she replied with an equal grin. "You are thy only one that ticks them all and that I would want to get tied down to."

"Oh my god, is that a proposal?" I heard someone scream next to us. Turning around it was Marsha Kozlowski who I hadn't talked to since we had both graduated from High School. "You can't propose at someone else's wedding. That's a big no-no." Why did I seem to feel chastened? And why did Carlos look like he was feeling the same? Wait, that hadn't really been a proposal, had it?

"I can guarantee you, whoever you are, that if that was the case, it wouldn't happen at someone else's wedding and certainly not that way and in front of people I have no clue about. It would happen in private and only between the two of us. But thank you, for your needless opinion."

"Does that mean you actually will get married at some point?" I heard my mother ask out of the blue. I hadn't even been aware she was at this wedding. When had she arrived? She hadn't been at the ceremony, cause that I would have noticed.

My first response was a groan accompanied by a sigh. How was it that my mother seemed to only know the topic of marriage? Especially when it came to me? She never asked about my job. Or how my day was. Or how things between me and her maybe-at-some-stage-potential son-in-law were. No. It was always 'when do you get married?'. In a way she fit in here perfectly.

"I never said we would never ever get down that road. I just am in no rush. And who knows, maybe it will happen 50 years from now, when Carlos and I are both senile and hardly remember the other one."

"That will never happen," Carlos said, and I saw my mother's shocked expression, assuming she placed his answer in regards of a possible wedding and not the old and senile part. I knew my man better and therefore was aware where to place his reply. "I'll always remember you. You are hardly someone one could easily forget."

Right on the spot.

"You know, getting married would also solve another issue."

"I wasn't aware I was having any issue to begin with," I replied, which barely stopped my mother.

"People will stop looking at your hand and then wonder what's so wrong with you that no one wants to marry you. And then they will also stop asking me what's wrong with you."

"You know, if people have nothing better to do than looking at my hands and wondering what's possibly wrong with me, that's their problem and not mine. I certainly won't get married for other people's sake or for making your life easier. And may I just add that most of these people asking you about me are people you couldn't care less about. So why do you care in the first place?"

"People talk, Stephanie. And before you know it, they marked your down as a freak who can't get a guy."

"I'm actually standing right here," Carlos replied amused and took my long-forgotten Gin Tonic and sipped.

"Well, would you hurry up then and get that proposal on the way?" my mother asked and for a moment she sounded almost desperate.

"If Stephanie wants to get married, we will. But as she said earlier, she is in no rush. And when she isn't neither am I."

"How convenient. Two people stringing each other along. What's the point of dating and being together when you don't get married?"

"What's the point of being married? I mean, nothing changes really. We are still the same people and will still do the same stuff as before. And while I get that every fibre in my body should be polled towards getting married, seeing as this has been drilled into my since I was born, I have no immediate need for it. So, I'll guess you have to live with it, mother. And let people talk."

"Stephanie," my mother tried pleading but I stopped her.

"Look, I get it. A wedding is the big ticket around here. It's everything until the next one comes around, or a funeral. But maybe it's time to realize that I'm not your typical Burg-girl that dreams only about big weddings and nothing beyond. That isn't me and that was never me. I had always been breaking the mould, wanting to be more than just the next Mrs. XYZ. I always wanted to be my own person, make something of myself and lead a life that consists of more than just the question about my husband and colour I'll dye my hair this week. Shouldn't your wish as my mother be for me to have and use all opportunities which present themselves to me and not just to marry me off to the next best guy? Maybe it's time for you to realize that Valerie is more of a Burg-girl than I'll ever was and will ever be. And that's totally okay, right? Because one out of two ain't that bad."

"I want all that for you, Stephanie. And that you are happy. But how do you know marriage isn't making you happy?"

Technically she had me there, but I was of course not going to admit it.

"Because I'm already happy. Without a piece of paper, or a pair of rings or an extraordinary ceremony that would make every resident of this goddamn part of Trenton green with envy."

"You once said that about Joseph Morelli as well. And look how that turned out."

"I'm not entirely sure whether I'd actually ever been happy with Joe, to be honest. Mom, Joe and I were mismatched right from the start and kept being drawn to each other for all the wrong reasons. We were on two very different ends of the same spectrum and tried turning is into something that was never supposed to work. Secretly we hated what the other one stood for, and we tried adapting to a situation both of us hated and would never have been happy with in the long run. We had different ideas about life and tried finding common ground in our differences. It wasn't supposed to work."

The evening dragged on for another two hours until dinner was served, and I was served with a whole new round of wedding questions from people I had seen maybe a handful of times in my life, and I started getting annoyed. What was everyone's business? And why was something as private and personal as a wedding everyone's favourite topic? Shouldn't that be left to me? Or rather me and Carlos?

It took us about two courses of dinner to figure we needed to get out of here. I had enough of this. And the food was mediocre at best, so it wasn't even like I was missing out on anything worthy.

"Do you trust me?" Carlos asked and before the question even had been fully asked, I already nodded and took his hand in mine.

"Always."

"Then I might have just the place for us after today," he said mysteriously and pulled me after him. Secretly I hoped this wouldn't lead us to a church, a chapel or a city hall. Though, judging by the time we now had, the city hall was long closed. Not sure about churches or chapels, though.

Carlos helped me into the Porsche and got in himself, driving us to whatever destination he had in mind a moment later. We drove for about fifteen minutes, and I had no clue where we might be heading. The direction didn't really prove helpful and after a while I decided I would just let him surprise me with whatever he had come up with. Eventually we pulled into a slightly shifty looking neighbourhood and went down some dark back alleys that I wasn't sure I would ever want to walk alone – regardless of whether during the day or night. And then we stopped. And I was confused. A lot. Because this was …unexpected.

"Out of all the places I came up with in regards of where you'd take me, a tattoo shop hadn't been on that list. A very… odd choice," I said, laughing for a second.

"This will provide you with a solution to your mother's issue, the constant ring question and also will ease my mind for the hundred weddings we'll go to and where I'll need to watch drunk groomsmen ogling you and wondering what their chances could be to get laid."

"What are you talking about?" I asked confused. "What groomsmen?"

"I know that you can be a little unaware of your surroundings, but at the last few weddings we went to, there were plenty of guys thinking they had a shot with you. And while I don't have any trust issues in regards of you or us, I also don't need them encouraged to try something."

"And a tattoo is helping that how exactly? Also, how will that get my mother of my back?"

"You'll see," he just replied and winked a second later. Carlos had never winked at me in his life. What the hell had he planned.

About an hour later, I knew. He had mentioned several times that I wasn't required to do it, or expected to go through with his unusual idea, but when he presented me with it, I loved it, surprising the two of us.

When we left, Carlos and I were linked to each other, more or less. A soft and delicate font was tattooed around the base of our ringer finger, displaying the name of the other one. It wasn't flashy and in-your-face and seemed so perfect. And for now, it was the perfect solution to a problem I wasn't even keen on fixing or felt like I had it to begin with.

And who knew, maybe at some point the tattoo would get covered by a ring. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Maybe even in 50. Or maybe never. Because that was the beauty, that neither of us needed a ring to know this was forever. Just like the tattoo that was wrought softly around our finger. That was forever as well.