{"strong"=>["\"I, Denise Cooke, take thee, Redford DeMoss, to be my lawful husband…\""]} No, wait…I did that already–three years ago in a Vegas chapel after one too many Long Island Iced Teas. I married a hunky U.S. Marine I'd met only hours before. (The uniform did it.) The wedding night–week–was spectacular. Then Redford went back to the Gulf. And I went back to my real life as a New York City financial planner…and filed for an annulment. I'm dating Barry the TV producer these days, but I think about Redford…a lot. And now, thanks to an upcoming IRS audit, I'm about to see ex-husband again. So why am I flustered? He's probably married, and I have–um, what's his name. It's not as if Redford plans to take me back…or take me–gulp–to bed. Besides, I'd never make the same mistake twice. Not even my favorite one…
