Chapter 9
nine
. . .
Al
I take Riley’s hands in mine, staring into her baby blues. They’re wide and scared, and I squeeze her hand, trying to reassure her.
“Do you, Riley Anne Lucas, take Alberto Emilio Gonzales to be your lawful wedded spouse, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love, honor, comfort, and keep him, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
She swallows, the sound loud in the small room, and pulls her hands from mine.
“Riley—” I don’t know what to say. Did I push her too fast?
“Your middle name is Emilio?” she whispers.
Slowly, I nod. My kid’s name is Emilia. We’re matching.
Did Carter know? I never told her. It’s not on my Wikipedia page, but I’m sure it’s somewhere deep in the Internet.
Something shutters in her eyes, and her face falls. She looks over at Emmy, safe in Tony’s arms, and sniffles a few times, swiping beneath her lashes, before she lets out a gusty sigh and squares her shoulders. “Okay. I can do this.”
She takes my hands again, then nods at Judge McCall. “Say it again.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “If you’re being coerced…”
“Only by a ghost,” she says with a bitter chuckle. “But my sister’s already dead, so I can’t kill her for getting me into this mess.”
The judge chuckles awkwardly, then repeats the vows.
“I do,” she says, her voice steady and sure. She squeezes my fingers, staring me straight in the face. “For as long as we both shall live.”
My heartbeat thuds in the back of my ears. This is temporary. This is for Emmy.
But as Judge McCall says my part of the vows, I know deep in my bones this isn’t temporary. This may be fake, but it’s real life.
“I do,” I say, loud and clear.
“The rings, please,” the judge says, and Cari hands over a small box.
Riley looks alarmed. “I didn’t—”
I open the velvet box, withdrawing two rings.
Mine is a simple white-gold band, not too thick, with a flat finish.
The other is more ornate, matching white gold with an eternity band of diamonds surrounding the entire thing.
It’s understated, simple, not flashy. It won’t scratch Emmy’s delicate skin.
“It’s perfect,” she breathes.
“Repeat after me,” Judge McCall prompts.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Riley says, and she slips the plain band onto my finger.
It feels heavy. Weighty. Right.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” I repeat, as I slide hers into place.
“Congratulations,” Judge McCall says. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Oh.
Oh, shit.
I hadn’t thought about that.
Riley stares up at me with her big blue eyes, hesitation on her face. She goes to pull her hand from mine, but I cling to it tighter for one second, before letting go.
Nervous energy crackles in the air between us and my pulse thrums in my ears. She leans closer, hesitating just long enough for me to catch the warmth of her breath and the faint pressure of her mouth on mine. Time stretches thin, suspended on the edge of something new, inevitable.
Before I know what I’m doing, I cup her cheek, then lean down and brush my lips against hers. She gasps against my mouth, hers parting, and I swallow the sound, bringing her closer until we’re flush together.
Her hands curl into fists, grabbing the lapels of my jacket. My chest tightens with the ache of possibility, and in that singular heartbeat, I swear I can taste forever.
Emmy cries out, and I jolt back, stunned. Riley lets go of me, smoothing the fabric she bunched up, and takes a step back. She goes immediately to the baby, taking her from Tony’s arms and soothing her. Her face is flushed as she devotes her entire attention to Emmy, ignoring me.
What the hell was that?
I clear my throat, shoving my hand into my pocket. The new ring catches on the fabric. That’ll take some getting used to.
“Congratulations,” Cari says, stepping forward and tugging me into a hug. Pain ripples through the back of my neck where she pinches the skin. “What just happened?” she hisses into my ear.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back.
She releases me, and Tony takes her place, slapping my back.
“I’m happy for you, chimuelo,” he says.
Toothless. My childhood nickname. With that, I know all is forgiven for not telling him about the wedding and my baby. I’m glad Cari had the courage to do it for me, but she won’t be fighting my battles anymore. I’ve got this.
Viv squeezes me into a forceful hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she says, linking her arm through mine.
We watch as Tony approaches Riley, setting his hand on her shoulder. She looks up at him, uncertain, and when he opens his arms for a hug, her lashes flutter shut. She buries her face in his neck, mumbling words I can’t make out.
The judge’s chamber seems impossibly smaller.
Are the walls getting closer? It’s only now hitting me—the gravity of what I’ve done.
Married, to a virtual stranger. Married, in a civil ceremony.
Secret, so my parents don’t even know. How do I tell them I took this step without them?
My mother will cry, and my father will frown, and there will be endless guilt trips for the rest of my life, even when this marriage is over and I’ve hopefully found my real happily ever after.
But I can deal with all of that later. This is about Emmy. It’s about me and Riley protecting my kid. I can handle the guilt trips. What I can’t tolerate is anyone taking Emmy from me.
My brother folds his arms around my wife, speaking into her ear. And my heart twists at how effortlessly he’s welcomed her into our family. How accepting he is. Both my siblings are.
He holds her for a long time, Emmy trapped between them.
My princess lets out a squawk, clearly annoyed, and everyone laughs.
When Tony lifts her into his arms, completely smitten, she giggles and kicks her feet.
Watching my brother fall in love with my baby is almost as magical as falling for her myself.
My eyes get watery when Cari and Viv lean in to wrap Riley in hugs, too, and I blink a few times to clear the moisture away.
She’s one of us now, whether she’s prepared for it or not.
My wife turns to me, extending her hand.
The band on her finger glitters, and a primal sense of satisfaction settles deep in my chest at my ring on her finger.
She’s mine, and I’m hers, and even though it’s purely in a legal, non-romantic way, I like the idea of belonging to someone.
Being part of a unit, together against the world.
Even if the first and hopefully only nemesis we’re battling against is social services.
“Let’s go home,” she says.
The drive back to the house passes in the blink of an eye. My ring glints in the late-afternoon sunlight, and I keep running my thumb over it, getting used to the feeling.
“I don’t expect you to wear it,” Riley says into the silence between us.
“Hmm?” I glance over at her while we’re paused at the red light.
“The ring. I know it’s not…”
“I have no problem wearing a wedding ring,” I tell her. “It’s a sign to the world that we’ve taken this step. I can’t wear it on the ice or in the weight room, but the rest of the time, I plan to wear it.”
She opens her mouth, but I cut off whatever she’s about to say.
“We’re married,” I repeat. “That means something.”
“I’m just trying to give you an out,” she whispers, like she’s afraid of my reaction. “I’m sure it’ll be hard for you to pick up women if you’re wearing a ring.”
“What makes you think I’m trying to pick up women?” Despite trying, I can’t keep the incredulity out of my voice.
She snorts. “Please. You’re a hotshot hockey player. Until a week ago, you were single and carefree. You can’t tell me you don’t have a list of women in your phone, down to fuck at any given moment.”
“I’ve been over the hookup scene for a while.” Flexing my hands around the steering wheel, I exhale slowly. “Since I’ve been back in Boston, I haven’t dated, haven’t gone partying, haven’t hooked up. That’s not what I’m interested in. While we’re married, I’m committed to you. To us.”
“So what is it you want?” She shifts in her seat, facing me.
“I wanted a family. I wanted my happily ever after.”
I want a great love, like the one my parents share.
Like the relationship my brother has found with Viv.
A true partner, in every sense of the word, ready to support me, and willing to let me support her in turn.
Sure, sex can be important in a relationship, but it’s more than the physical that goes into having a strong, healthy marriage.
I can’t imagine not wanting to spend time with my wife, to live as strangers in the same house.
But we are strangers. Only now, we’re married.
“And instead you got me.”
“And Emmy.” I glance back at her in the rearview mirror. She’s babbling while she plays with her toes, content now that she’s finally free of her shoes. “I’ve got everything I need.”