28. Billie
BILLIE
If anyone was going to fake-marry Adam Knight, it was going to be me.
I squared my shoulders and left the privacy of the bathroom, shaking out my hands one more time as if I could flick off the anxiety like water droplets.
The hallway was colder than I remembered, and my shoes—cute earlier—now pinched at the toes.
I could hear Adam talking before I even re-entered the waiting area, his voice carrying from around the corner of the corridor.
There was something about the steady, quiet cadence of his voice that made me want to run back to him immediately and throw myself into his arms, I refrained.
When I returned, Adam was exactly where I’d left him, but now he was deep in conversation with another couple.
They were probably forty years older than us, both dressed in matching navy windbreakers.
The woman had the air of someone who’d spent years wrangling kids and grandkids and was not impressed by anything, while the man wore a ball cap that said “World’s Okayest Grandpa” and had the air of someone whose grandchildren all had him wrapped around their little fingers.
They were huddled together, the man sipping from a metal thermos, the woman with her arm around his.
There was a single-stem rose on her lap, the cellophane wrapper crinkled as she shifted.
Adam noticed me, his face lighting up when he saw I’d returned, and gestured for me with the arm not in a sling to join them. “There she is,” he said with relief, jokingly, although, I think there was truth in it.
I sat, smoothing my dress over my knees, and tried to act like I hadn’t just given myself a halftime locker room pep talk in the bathroom.
The couple introduced themselves as Frank and Marianne, teenage sweethearts who’d eloped after seventy-two hours of dating in 1979 and were now renewing their vows because, as Marianne declared, “The first ceremony was in a bumblebee yellow Ford Capri, and the officiant was my cousin, who was also drunk at the time.”
I liked them immediately. They had the effortless camaraderie of people who’ve survived decades together, and in their presence, Adam’s posture loosened, his mouth twitching into a smile I hadn’t seen since before his injury.
He told them that we were here for the “speedrun version” of the wedding process since I was in the bridal business and had grown callous to it, which was not actually a lie.
Adam was so at ease with Frank and Marianne, so warm, that I felt a pang of jealousy mixed with pride.
I realized that I’d never really seen adult Adam in his element, charming strangers with his dry wit and subtle self-deprecation.
It was like watching a cat that’s always been hiding under the bed suddenly leap out and land a perfect backflip in front of a full audience.
Frank took a swig from his thermos and looked at Adam. “So how long have you two been together?”
Adam glanced at me for a half-second before turning back to Frank. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Grew up next door to each other, actually.”
Marianne whistled. “And you only just now decided to get married? What took so long?”
He shot me a look of pure mischief. “She was too busy running the world.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly in challenge. You wanna play, okay? “He was too busy avoiding commitment.”
Frank cackled and gave Adam a wink. “Smart man. Keep her guessing.”
They laughed, and it was easy and natural, and for a second I forgot how staged this whole experience was supposed to be.
I found myself wanting to sink into the moment, to pretend this was a real wedding, that Adam and I were just two people who’d finally gotten their act together and decided to do the damn thing.
Then Frank, emboldened by the vibe, leaned forward and asked, “So, son, when did you know she was the one?”
I felt my whole body go still. I was aware of my heartbeat in my knees.
It was such a dumb question, the kind of thing you hear on reality TV, but in that second, I was hanging on the answer with a desperation I couldn’t even hide.
He could have made up anything. He could have laughed it off.
Instead, Adam looked right at me, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-grin that had my stomach doing flip-flops.
“That’s easy. She’s always been the one,” he said simply.
“I think I knew the first time I saw her.” He turned his attention back to Frank and Marianne.
“She was four, a tiny thing, sitting on her porch, crying. Most six-year-old boys would want to avoid a girl crying at all costs, but for some reason, seeing her had the opposite effect. She was a magnet, drawing me to her. My chest ached, it constricted so tight. All I could think about was needing to be next to her, to make her smile, to make sure she was okay.” He inhaled and exhaled as if he wasn’t able to breathe until those things were done.
I stared at him. He hadn’t rehearsed it. I could tell by the way he stumbled over the last part. He was so convincing, the way he was looking at me, it was almost like he’d managed to hypnotize himself into believing it. Marianne let out a little sigh, and her husband squeezed her hand.
Adam’s voice softened. “And now it’s been what, over thirty years?” He looked at me. “Still feels exactly the same. I need to be next to her, to make her smile, to make sure she’s okay. From the moment I saw her, it’s only been her. It’s always been her.”
For a fake marriage, it was a hell of a story.
My chest felt tight again, but in an entirely new way.
I couldn’t tell if it was panic or something more dangerous.
If I were being honest, I didn’t want to examine it too closely.
Maybe it was a kind of grief for all the versions of Adam and Billie that could have existed, or maybe it was hope, which I’d worked so hard to keep at bay. Either way, I was nearly undone.
The clerk called two names, but they floated right past me. My head was too busy spinning at what Adam had just said, despite me being sure it was just a good cover story. But then again, he had said all those things when he was high…
I had no clue it was our names that were called until Marianne whispered, “You’re up, sweet pea.”
She reached over and patted my knee, and it was such a well-practiced gesture of comfort that I almost wanted to cry again.
Instead, I gripped Adam’s offered hand as tightly as I could as we both stood. His eyes crinkled in a wince, and I asked, “Is your back okay?” His response was a sharp nod, which I knew meant it was not okay.
Frank and Marianne also stood. I glanced over at them and noticed that Adam was handing Marianne his phone. “They are going to be our witnesses and offered to record the wedding.”
“Oh, thank you.” How had I totally blanked on needing witnesses? I did this for a living. Bliss Bridal was more than just a wedding dress shop, it also offered day-of coordination services. I’d had to sign as a witness at dozens of weddings.
We all four entered the double doors into the “chapel.” The city hall officiant introduced herself.
She was a woman named Priscilla who wore a blazer the shade of uncooked salmon and looked like she’d been officiating government weddings since the Carter administration.
She had a clipboard, a stamp, and zero time for nonsense.
“Welcome,” she said, scanning the paperwork. “Are you ready to be legally bound?”
Adam looked at me. “Ready?”
I nodded, my voice gone. Adam squeezed my hand, and it was the only thing in the room that felt real. Priscilla recited a few lines about the sanctity of marriage and the importance of honesty. She asked if we had any vows.
We hadn’t discussed this, but I shook my head no as Adam nodded. “I’d like to say something.”
Seriously? He’s got to be kidding.
He cleared his throat. “Billie Joel…”
Tears instantly sprang to my eyes. He hadn’t called me Billy Joel in, I couldn’t remember the last time. This was not a good start.
“I promise to always be the one who runs toward you, not away. Even when you’re mad at me, even when you give me the silent treatment, and even when you curse me out in fluent construction worker.”
Marianne and Frank both snickered, and my smile grew wider. I’d curbed my bad language but as a teen, I think some sailors would have been like, Whoa that’s a lot of F-bombs. Looking back, I think it was my way to express frustration.
“You are my best friend, and I will do everything in my power to make you smile, happy, and safe. I promise to keep trying, even when I’m tired, irritated, or you tell me to stop. I promise to make you blueberry pancakes every Sunday even when you tell me you’re not eating carbs.”
My heart sank. Why? Why did he have to remember the blueberry pancakes? I’d only spent one Sunday at the house with the girls, and we had donuts because that’s what the girls wanted. We didn’t have blueberry pancakes. How did he remember I ate blueberry pancakes every Sunday?
And how had he known I wore a pink bra every Wednesday because my favorite movie was Mean Girls?
And how was any man ever going to compete with him?
“I promise to show up, every day and never take you for granted. I promise to love you, every part of you, especially the parts that the general public doesn’t get access to.”
Fuck me. I’d never loved the man more.
Priscilla turned to me. “Billie?”
I thought of every wedding I’d ever worked, every bride who’d stood in a dress worth more than my car and delivered vows she’d written after a bottle of prosecco and a Pinterest binge.
I thought about how much I’d always loathed the drama of it, how I’d quietly judged women who cried at the altar, and how much I would pay to have just a sliver of their composure right now as tears built in my lower lids, threatening to betray me and slip down my cheeks.
I knew this wasn’t real, but it’s not like I hadn’t imagined what it would be like to marry Adam Knight in my head a million times, so finding the words to say wasn’t that difficult—not that difficult at all.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and took a shaky breath.
“Adam, I promise to always try to let you in, even when it’s easier to shut you out.
I promise to remember that you’re not just the man who fixes things on the outside, but the man who helps me see me, the real me no one sees, probably better than I see myself sometimes.
I promise to be your teammate, even if I continually try to put you on the bench. ”
Marianne and Frank chuckled.
“And I promise to love you, even when you leave your wet towels on the floor, or you talk during a movie, or do that thing where you act like you don’t actually care but you care a lot.
You care so much more than anyone could ever know.
” I was shaking, and my voice thinned out at the end.
“I promise to show up every day, and love you, and never take you for granted. And I promise to be there for you always. Forever, on the good and bad days, and never walk away.”
His eyes flashed with a look I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
I knew that was his biggest fear, someone abandoning him like his mom had.
And even though this was a fake marriage and we were only promising ninety days to each other, I would always be there for him, forever, always, and never walk away.
I wasn’t the one who walked away in the first place, and I never would now.
Adam’s eyes were glassy, but he didn’t blink.
Priscilla nodded. “That’s beautiful. Now, the rings?”
“Oh, we don’—” I began.
“Here.” Adam pulled two rings out of his pocket. I did a double take as I looked down at them. One was a simple silver band, and the other was a white gold diamond, I would guess three-carat, solitaire that sparkled so hard I had to blink.
My eyes shot up to his. “When did you…how did you?”
He grinned.
“Do you, Billie Joelle Bliss, take Adam Sebastian Knight to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.” Adam slid the ring on my finger, and it fit perfectly, like Cinderella’s glass slipper. That’s what it felt like, a fairytale.
“Do you, Adam Sebastian Knight, take Billie Joelle Bliss to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.” His eyes stared into mine as I slid the ring on his finger.
Priscilla announced, “By the power vested in me by the County of Marin, I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”
Adam reached up and cupped my face. His palms were warm against my cheeks, his thumbs brushing my jawline. His lips were softer than I expected, gentle at first, then more insistent. The pressure of his mouth on mine was steady, grounding, like an anchor.
He kissed me, and it was anything but polite.
He kissed me until I forgot we were in a government building, until I forgot about every embarrassing thing I’d ever done and every reason I’d convinced myself this was a bad idea.
He kissed me until my knees went soft and the room spun, and by the time he pulled away, I was dizzy and breathless and completely undone.
He smiled, wiped a stray tear from my cheek, and asked, “You okay?”
I nodded, too stunned to speak.
And just like that, I was Mrs. Adam Knight.