Chapter 12 #2
I caught Imanio’s reaction. I couldn’t decipher his facial expression. He gave me a somewhat dubious stare, which was unusual when I had an outburst. But the guy? Yeah, he looked like he was about two blinks away from confessing every sin he’d ever committed.
“Naji, this is Reverend Ellis; he’ll be marrying us today,” Imanio announced.
I nodded.
“So… so nice to m-meet you, young lady. Uh… shall we begin?” he stammered, voice thin.
“We definitely should,” Imanio agreed.
Imanio led me to stand across from him. The witnesses didn’t move from their spot. Where they stood, they could see and hear everything.
Imanio stepped close to the officiant and muttered something too low for me to hear. Whatever it was, it drained the remaining color from the man’s face, causing him to nod rapidly.
“I-I understand,” the man acknowledged shakily.
“Good,” Imanio replied, cool as ever.
Reverend Ellis flipped through the pages with fingers that looked like they were auditioning for a tremor commercial.
Every few seconds, his eyes darted to me—not in a reverent or respectful way, but like I was either a ghost he couldn’t unsee or a riddle he was too scared to solve.
And those kinds of stares? They made my nerves itch… like, full-body itch.
My toes curled in my sandals.
“Fuuuuuuuuck your eyeballs! Blink, you creepy walrus!” I snapped. “Ain’t you supposed to be reading vows, not reading my soul?!”
The tic had forced it out—loud, sharp, humiliating.
Reverend Ellis recoiled like I’d spit acid.
“I—I beg your pardon?”
I winced immediately. My hand flew up to my mouth, and I backed up a step.
“I—I'm so sorry!” I blurted out, a warm rush of embarrassment flooding my cheeks. “I d-d-didn’t mean to say that! I h-have Tourette Syndrome!”
Each time I had to explain this condition to others, it felt like a weight on my shoulders. I hated the look of confusion or pity on their faces, yet if I wanted them to truly understand my struggles, I knew I had no choice but to be open about it.
“Naji, stop,” Imanio commanded, his voice firm enough to cut through the room like a switchblade.
I froze, startled—not because he sounded angry, but because he didn’t… not exactly.
“You don’t owe him shit. Not an explanation. Not an apology. Not a damn thing.”
Reverend Ellis blinked furiously, flustered. “I… I didn’t know?—”
Imanio stepped to him like a storm in human form.
“You didn’t need to. You were instructed not to stare, speak to her, or question her outbursts. That’s strike one.”
Reverend Ellis looked between us, visibly sweating now. His hands trembled as he pulled the wedding script from his bible, trying to recover what was left of his dignity.
Imanio’s eyes didn’t leave him.
“Now, proceed… before I decide a replacement is needed.”
The poor man swallowed hard, nodded, and fumbled for his opening line like he’d never spoken to two humans in his life.
And I just stood there mortified… but at least he wasn’t staring anymore.
The witnesses hadn’t said a single word…
not even a whisper. Clearly, they’d been briefed— well —and they weren’t about to mess up their payday by doing anything extra.
The ceremony began without any music.
No vows; just the legal words.
It was stripped down and cold… business-like.
I wasn’t even sure if I was supposed to say, “I do,” or just sign something.
But when the man asked, “Do you, Naji Ali, take Imanio Kors to be your lawful husband?”, I glanced at Imanio, who was already looking at me.
.. silent and expressionless . But beneath the cool surface, I caught a glimpse of something… unguarded.
My head tilted slightly on reflex. “This is i-i-insane. I’m insane,” I murmured under my breath. Then louder, with shaky resolve, I answered, “Y-Yes… I do.”
Imanio’s mouth tensed, his expression tightening as the reverend turned to him.
“And do you, Imanio Kors?—”
“I do,” he said immediately, with no hesitation.
After that, we exchanged rings. The paperwork came next.
My fingers trembled as I picked up the pen.
I stared at the signature line like it might bite me, then scribbled my name with a shaky flourish that didn’t feel like me at all.
It felt like someone else’s hand doing the work—someone braver… or dumber… maybe both .
Imanio signed next, and did so like it was just another business deal.
The reverend handed him our marriage license—his hands still slightly trembling, and rightfully so. Imanio didn’t even look at it. He folded it neatly, tucked it into his back pocket and gave a single nod… and that was it.
No rice thrown. No crowd clapping. No kiss to seal it.
I’m a wife now. Worse—his.
Mrs. Imanio Kors.
The name sat heavy on my tongue, like something I wasn’t sure I was allowed to say out loud yet.
It sounded powerful, dangerous… permanent.
I didn’t know if that was a good thing or the beginning of my very own horror film.
Because being Mrs. Imanio Kors didn’t come with a veil and roses—it came with secrets, silence, and a man who looked at me like I was both his soft spot and his weapon.
“You’re free to leave,” Imanio announced coldly to the reverend. “But remember what I said—not a word to anyone, not even God, unless he signs an NDA.”
The man gave a frantic nod and turned so fast he tripped over the leg of a nearby chair, nearly dropping his Bible as he scrambled for the door like his life depended on it.
Shaking his head at the pastor’s clumsiness, Imanio strolled over to couple, pulled out his wallet, and slipped each of them a few crisp hundred-dollar bills.
Their eyes went wide like they’d just been handed a second chance.
They didn’t waste a second thanking him—grins flashing, nodding rapidly, shoving the cash into their pockets before hurrying out of the house like Imanio might’ve had a quick change of heart.
I watched them leave, silently hoping they'd use the money for food… maybe shelter; just something that didn’t come in a brown bag or a dirty needle. But I didn’t know them. Maybe they’d been good people who just hit rock bottom… or maybe rock bottom hit them first.
Once they were out of earshot, I turned to Imanio.
“Wh-Where did you find them?” I asked, brows furrowed.
“Around the way.” He shrugged.
“And you… you couldn’t find s-somebody else more desperate?” I asked, sarcasm barely masking my unease.
“That’s about as desperate as it gets,” he responded with a dry snort. “But chill. They didn’t know me or you. I also told them if they so much as whispered about what they witnessed name that I would cut their tongues out and hang ’em on the church door.” His tone lacked any amusement.
“Of course you did,” I mumbled.
There was a stretch of silence between us, not tense, but thick.
I shifted on my feet and he rolled his sleeves. And still, we said nothing. We just stood there—married, wrongly paired and moments away from pretending everything was normal.
“S-Sooooo,” I dragged. “Is…. is that it?”
“Yeah. What… you thought Fantasia was gon’ slide in singing When I See You and a flower girl was gon’ throw petals down the damn hallway?”
My throat gave an involuntary growl, sharp and sudden, like a record scratching mid-song. I clenched my fist at my side, trying to ground myself, but another sharp hum escaped my lips before I could stop it.
“Dammmmmmn, right! I mean—no! I don’t k-know what I wanted. But… I thought maybe…”
Imanio stepped closer, voice low. “Naji, I told you I don’t do public… at least not with things that matter.”
“Wait. So I matter?”
“Let’s go,” was all he said.
Imanio let my question hang in the air, unanswered. But the way he guided me out, steady and sure, was its own confession.
As we walked out, I muttered another tic, "Married by threat, stayed for the chaos."
“Better get used to chaos. You damn sure married it.”
Not by choice , I wanted to say.
“Oh, and don’t think I didn’t catch yo’ lil’ fake tic inside.”
My eyes widened.
Busted. But how did he even know?
“I’m very observant, Naji,” Imanio continued like he’d reached into my brain and yanked the question out. “I’ve learned a few things about your body… your real tics… in just this last week. The rhythm, the timing and the way your hands move when it’s real. ”
He took a step closer, tone low but firm. “That stunt you pulled? Don’t do that shit again. Not when we’re in front of people… strangers at that, especially when it could backfire.”
I swallowed hard, but he wasn’t done.
“I let it slide today because I knew you were nervous. But we’re supposed to be building something here—even if it’s messy, even if it’s slow.
You want me to trust you?” His eyes bore into mine.
“Then don’t lie with something that’s real to you and don’t use it to get out of shit. We ain’t doing that.”
I looked down, my fingers fidgeting at my sides.
A soft tic escaped, “Shut up, system error… reset, reset.” Then louder, I spoke, my voice unsteady, “I’m sorry.
I just… p-panicked. I felt cornered… confused.
E-Everyone was watching, and I—my brain scrambled.
That wasn’t about disrespecting what I r-really go through…
it was me… trying to protect myself.” I looked up at him.
“I’m not used to people paying this much attention…
noticing me that close. Not in a way that’s not mean… or mocking. You n-noticed.”
“Yeah, I did. So that says a lot .”
As we walked to the car, I glanced over at him, nerves tangled with sarcasm, my voice cautious but teasing.
“This is p-probably the wrong timing to ask this… since you’re probably mad. B-But can I at least have some c-cake… so it feels like a wedding and not… whatever this is? Also, when I cry later, I’ll have the f-frosting to blame.”
I paused—then the outburst hit.
“Wedding cake, courthouse crumble, hostage-tier frosting—hell, I’ll take a Little Debbie at this point!”