Chapter 7 Alina
Chapter seven
Alina
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I’m just marrying the guy I’ve always secretly loved, like it’s any typical day. It’s definitely not a big deal. Nope. Nothing to overthink about here…
My fingers curl around the cold metal door handle as I take one last breath and open the entrance to town hall. I had half expected the place to be bustling with people. Maybe arguing over parking tickets or debating bills. But as I walk inside, I find the place to be…empty.
I take a few steps, looking around. I remove my jacket and fold it over my arm as I approach a counter and lean over the edge. “Hello?”
“Ah, you must be Alina.” I spin on my heels, my palm slapping against my chest as I stare at an older gentleman sporting a wide smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a scare.” He extends his hand toward me. “I’m Alan. I’ll be officiating the ceremony today.”
“Oh, hi.” I take his hand. “Is it usually this quiet here?”
“Huh? Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “When Mr. Alarie reached out this morning regarding the arrangements, he asked for complete discretion. Naturally, we didn’t want to take any risks with your privacy, so we decided to close for the day.
” He gestures down the far hallway. “Shall we?” He takes a step, and I follow suit, walking side by side.
“It was quite generous of him to pay for everyone’s time off.
My staff was over the moon when I gave them the good news. ”
My eyes widen. “He… He did that?”
“Yes. He wanted to ensure everyone was compensated for their time.” We approach a closed door. “Right this way.” He pushes it open, motioning for me to enter before him. “He was just in the back when I left him.”
As I enter the space, my breath falters.
Mauro stands at the back of the room staring down at his phone in his hands, and my eyes freely trail over him, soaking in everything that they can.
His face looks more prominent, his jaw more defined, as he’s cleaned up his beard, leaving just a slight shadow on his cheeks.
His hair is pulled back with a black leather strap.
His crisp white shirt is wrinkle-free, smoothed to perfection, and tucked into his fitted black pants that mold to his muscular thighs.
He’s a dangerous weapon in a suit—one that many fear for all the right reasons.
Yet, there’s a quiet, rugged beauty in him that calls to my beating heart.
“We’re ready whenever you are, sir,” Alan announces, causing Mauro’s head to snap up.
His eyes land on me, darkening as they trace the length of my floor-length ivory dress. I wasn’t exactly sure what the dress code should be for a temporary marriage ceremony at town hall, so I’m relieved to see his eyes leisurely scanning me in approval.
Goose bumps spread across my skin as he takes substantial strides toward me, stopping just a foot away.
He pauses briefly before placing his open hand near his face, moving it in a small circle around his features, then bringing it back in front of him, fingers and thumb pressed together. Beautiful.
A warmth spreads over me. “Thank you,” I manage to say, biting down on my bottom lip.
“You look very handsome.” I reach a hand out toward his face, my palm grazing against his slight stubble.
“I like that I can see your face.” He brushes the tips of his fingers against the side of my temple, his brows furrowing slightly.
“Oh. Contacts,” I tell him, realizing he usually sees me with my glasses on.
His fingers linger on my face, his eyes absorbing every detail of me as if he were trying to memorize this moment for years to come.
Alan clears his throat, breaking the moment. We immediately drop our hands, turning to see him standing there.
“Shall we get started?” he asks, his eyes moving between the two of us.
Mauro looks at me with apprehension, perhaps thinking I may want to back out of this arrangement. But there’s too much at stake. “I’m ready,” I say with a confidence I don’t quite feel.
“Great.” Alan claps his hands together and turns toward the podium.
Mauro places his large hand on my lower back to guide me, and I realize I’m enjoying his touch a bit more than I should.
Once we reach the podium, we stand side by side.
And that’s when it hits me.
We’re really doing this.
We’re getting married.
Nerves skate over me, sending a tremble through my entire body as guilt consumes me.
Guilt for lying to Mauro and roping him into this mess with me. My stomach twists with shame.
Maybe it’s not too late to tell him the truth. Maybe if he knew, he could help me, and we wouldn’t need to go through with this.
But would he still help me if he knew the whole truth?
My breath quickens, and just as I part my lips, ready to ask for a moment, Mauro’s hand wraps around mine. I look into his eyes filled with concern, but with each gentle stroke of his thumb across my skin, I feel every ounce of anxiety within me evaporating.
I have to do this.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, facing him. “I promise.” Giving a half-shrug, I say, “I’ve just never done this before. I guess you could say I have first-time marriage jitters.”
That gets him to crack a half smile.
“Now,” Alan begins, “most couples begin by reciting vows.” He quickly glances between us. “Do you have vows you would like to read?”
“Oh, umm.” I shake my head. “No vows. We can just skip to the ‘I do’ section, if that’s alright?”
“Of course.” He flips through a few pages, narrowing his eyes on the words.
His finger skims across the paper. “Alright, well, let’s begin the declaration of intent between you two.
” His gaze shifts to me. “We’ll start with Alina.
” He clears his throat, and I focus my attention on him.
“Alina, do you take Mauro Alarie to be your lawfully wedded husband, from this day forward, to have and to hold, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” I swallow down my worries, trying to appear at ease, but Mauro must sense my anxiety.
He lightly squeezes my hand, and I look at him to see concern shadowing his eyes.
This man is doing all of this for me. I may not fully understand why, but he is.
All so that he can help me with something he doesn’t even know the whole truth about.
The guilt returns, simmering in my stomach, but I push it aside as I smile at him and say, “I really do.”
“And Mauro, do you take Alina Fowler to be your lawfully wedded wife, from this day forward, to have and to hold, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish for as long as you both shall live?”
Mauro doesn’t move as he looks at me with something unknown in his eyes.
“You can nod, sir,” Alan tells him.
But Mauro doesn’t do that.
Instead, he clears his throat and says in a deep, rough whisper, “I…do.”
He reaches for his throat with his free hand and rubs the center of his neck. I don’t like that he caused himself pain on my behalf, but the effort he made to say those two words brings a warm feeling to my chest.
One I shouldn’t let get carried away because this is temporary.
Only temporary.
“Now, we will move on to the exchanging of rings.”
“Oh…” I shake my head. “We’re not…” My words die on the tip of my tongue as Mauro reaches into his pocket and pulls out two rings, holding them flat in his palm.
“You got us rings?” I ask, stunned. When did he have time to do that?
“I should have thought of that. I just didn’t think you’d…
” I didn’t think he’d want them. I thought he would think it would make this feel too real.
I lean in closer to get a better look. One is a large, black-plated tungsten band, clearly meant for Mauro.
The other is a delicate platinum band, set with the most beautiful display of diamonds I’ve ever seen.
“Mauro,” I breathe, blinking a few times. “This is too much.”
His fingers curl around the rings, hiding them from view. You don’t like it?
“No, it’s not that. It’s beautiful,” I abruptly respond. “Probably the most exquisite piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen, but you spent too much on it. On me. I’m not worth—”
He grips my chin, his eyes boring into mine. There’s so much he wants to say, swirling in his dark irises. His knuckles brush against my skin, and I let out a sigh as his hand cradles my cheek.
“Should we, umm, continue?” Alan asks.
My eyes stay locked with Mauro’s as he nods. He drops his hand and finds my left one, bringing it between us. My heart races beneath my rib cage as butterflies swarm my stomach.
“Great.” Alan clears his throat, turning the page in the book in front of him. “With these rings, you are pledging your love, now and forever, between one another.”
Mauro carefully slips the ring onto my finger, and I find that it fits perfectly. With a tremble in my touch, I take the thick black band from Mauro and then slide it onto his finger, showing him a nervous smile.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Alan declares, closing the book before him with a smile. “You may kiss the bride.”
The butterflies drop in my stomach one by one as nerves take over.
How could I have forgotten about this part?
I swallow hard, feeling my chest expand with each deep breath I take.
We’re about to share our first—and probably only—kiss…in front of Alan.
I internally groan. This couldn’t be any less romantic if I tried. Not that it should be, since this is all pretend. But who knows if I’ll ever get married again and have the chance to—
Mauro’s eyes shift away from me and land on Alan, a silent threat permeating the air.
“I’ll umm,” Alan murmurs, “meet you two at my office to sign the license when you’re ready. Congratulations.” With a sense of urgency, he bypasses us and exits the room, closing the door tightly behind him, leaving just the two of us.
Alone.
The pounding of my heart echoes in my ears. Oh God, am I sweating? I quickly adjust my posture. Yup, I’m definitely sweating.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
Maybe I should just play it cool and suggest we don’t have to go through with this, so I can avoid the pain of rejection?
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I say, “We don’t have to—”
But that’s all I get out before Mauro slides his hand around the side of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair as he pulls me toward him and captures my lips in a kiss.
I’m momentarily stunned, frozen like a statue while his warmth envelops me in a comforting embrace. That is, until my mind and body catch up and realize what is happening.
Suddenly, I’m transported into one of my romance novels, where the hero just saved the damsel and kisses her as if it’s the last thing he’ll do before his untimely demise.
My body melts into Mauro’s chest, my fingers curling into his shirt as my eyes close.
I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life.
I mean, sure, I’ve kissed men before.
But none of those kisses comes anywhere close in comparison.
None of them has ever ignited every nerve ending in my body with such an overwhelming need for more.
His mouth curves against mine with precise movements. Gentle yet firm, tender yet dominating.
And I savor every second of this moment, storing away every detail in my memory for a later time.
When he finally pulls back, it takes me a solid minute to regain my senses. My eyelids blink rapidly, and my lips part, already missing his taste. Realizing I’m clinging to him like a life raft, I quickly drop my hands and take a step back on shaky legs, stumbling.
But Mauro is quick to hook an arm around my waist, ensuring I’m steady.
I peek up at him, seeing him in an unattainable light. “I guess that makes this official,” I whisper.
He reaches for my left hand, running his thumb over the band on my finger. The soothing touch makes my knees wobble against each other, but I do everything I can to remain upright.
With his other hand, he lays it flat against his chest, directly over the center before tapping his middle finger twice.
Confused by his gesture, I furrow my brows, my mouth opening slightly. But before I can ask, he intertwines my fingers with his and leads us out of the room as husband and wife.