Chapter 16
Lydia
As Cole pulls away from our first kiss as a married couple, I try very hard to maintain my composure, which is hard, because I feel a bit like crying. I’m married. I have a husband. And he doesn’t even like me! The thought makes me want to wail, but I swallow hard against the impulse, reminding myself that this is all for the best. Then I think about his face when he saw me walking up with Hilda. He tried to hide it, but I saw the flash of annoyance on his face before he got control of himself. Ha! Point for me.
I am determinedly ignoring the fact that part of the reason I brought Hilda was to act as a buffer between myself and my haywire emotions. It’s probably pregnancy brain or whatever, but there have been these moments lately–like when Cole’s eyes locked on mine as he said I do–that I felt a stirring. Like a stirring of love. Well, maybe not love, but definitely like. I think I might like him. Eww. I’m going to have to nip that in the bud. Good thing I brought Hilda.
She’s just finished signing our marriage license, and I watch as she passes it to Cole. He signs it quickly, not even glancing at anything written on it, then hands me his pen to do the same. As I scrawl my signature, I scan the page and my hand freezes. Today is April 6, but the date listed is March 6. Is this an error or is it the date fudging Cole told me Tom wanted to do? I eye Cole, but either he hasn’t noticed or he already agreed to it.
“Cole,” I whisper, moving my pen to indicate the date, “I thought we said we were going to decide later how we wanted to handle all the date stuff.”
His eyes follow my pen, and I see him pale slightly. “Right,” he says, “we did say that. Uh, Tom.” He beckons him over, and I see him point to the date as he speaks into Tom’s ear.
Tom picks up the paper with a frown. “Wow, yes, that’s a mistake.” He eyes Cole. “I heard you loud and clear when you said no backdating the license. The clerk’s office must’ve made a mistake.” He sighs heavily. “I’ll go there this afternoon and have it fixed, then I can get the revised copy to you both to sign.” Tom meets my eyes. “You’ll have to have Hilda sign the new copy as well,” annoyance flickers across his gaze, “but for heaven’s sake don’t you even think about asking her to sign it in the middle of a crowded grocery store. We don’t need any media attention on this right now. It’s enough of a headache to the campaign that you brought someone who speaks with a thousand different people every day as your witness.”
Cole looks distinctly uncomfortable now, and I realize that Tom wasn’t just annoyed about Hilda because she’s a cashier, he’s worried about her telling people our secret. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me, I’d really just wanted to offend his uppity sensibilities. I guess I’m not used to the political life.
“Lydia, Cole, look over here,” Hilda’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I turn to see her standing down the hall, her phone positioned to take our picture.
“This’ll look great on my Instagram,” she says gaily. Suddenly I feel sick. Hilda is great. You couldn’t meet a friendlier cashier. Of course, that’s because she’s so chatty. She always has a funny joke to tell or a story to share. I suddenly picture her at her post later today, telling anyone who cares to listen about how she was the witness at a courthouse wedding today. Oh goodness.
I chew my lower lip. Okay, it’s all fine. I hadn’t wanted to lie about our relationship in the first place, so what am I getting so upset about? Surely I don’t feel bad about potentially messing up Cole’s campaign. Do I?
“Lydia,” Tom is scowling at me, “please tell me your friend isn’t over there sharing photos of today on her Instagram feed.”
“Hilda!” I rush over to her and gently slide her phone out of her hand, assessing if any damage has been done. Thankfully she’s still selecting photos for her post. I wince as I notice one of me in my dress. When did she even take that? “Listen, did I not mention that today is sort of a private thing? We don’t want anything on social media.”
Hilda stares at her phone in my hand for a second, then shrugs. “Okay.” She snatches the phone back from me and closes the screen. “Now are we getting that lunch at Chipotle you promised me or not?”
Relief runs through me, escaping in a laugh. “Right, yes, Chipotle.” I walk back over to the men. “Crisis averted,” I tell them under my breath. Despite my words, Tom still looks peeved, and Cole’s mouth appears stuck in a frown. My victorious walk up here with Hilda now feels silly. I acted like a child, which is frightening because soon I will have an actual child. Which means I should probably start acting like an adult.