“You surprised?” he asked. “We’re the biggest assholes.”
The woman behind the desk was so tickled by him.
“Um, what’s your middle name?” I croaked.
Jack’s gentle hand met my knee. “Robert,” he said, pronouncing it the French way, then the English way. “I mean, like Robert.”
“I’ll start calling you Jackie Robbie,” I joked, and he chuckled. He had to be nervous too. This was, after all, absurd. Our little jokes were a Band-aid on a bullet wound.
I smiled like I was supposed to, but I guess it didn’t look authentic.
The woman working behind the desk cooed when Jack leaned in to kiss my temple. “You alright, Mar?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Just nerves.”
“Alright, congratulations, you two,” the woman said after checking over our paperwork and handing us a stamped paper. “Go on and wait in the hallway and they’ll get you hitched.”
We stood to head for the chapel and my vision blacked out. Even with my cane, I reached for Jack to steady me.
“I got you. Take your time, baby.” Jack kissed my hair and latched his arms around me. “I’ll hold you up.”
I closed my eyes and sucked in one deep breath, then another.
“I got you, Mar,” he said again. His hand slipped under my hair to touch my clammy neck. I think he knew it wasn’t just POTS getting me.
“I’m good,” I said, and put my hand through his arm.
“Let’s go put on the ol’ ball and chain,” he said, his voice low like this was a private joke.
He opened the doors to the chapel, and I caught sight of the little archway they’d set up, draped in white fake flowers. My breath caught in my throat again.
“I can’t do this.”
Jack’s head snapped down to me, then up to the judge. “Um, ma’am, we need a minute. Mar, let’s talk.” He pulled me to the side of the door and I rested against the cool marble wall. He lifted my hair away from my neck again, fanning behind me. “What’s up?”
My thoughts raced and I pinched my eyes shut. “What’s our deal?” I opened to gaze up into his concerned brown eyes. “Are we just a business arrangement or are we going to be something?”
Jack’s eyes softened. He licked his lower lip and pulled it into his teeth. “Let’s just be married on paper and see what happens with the other stuff.”
“That’s not good enough,” I said, my voice quivering. If I was ever going to stand up for myself, I needed to do it now. “Ilike you, Jack. And you’re messing with my head. I don’t want to be teenagers giving each other jobs—hand jobs, blow jobs, whatever. If you don’t think you can love me, we can’t do that stuff anymore. And if you can be discreet, you can go do that stuff with other people.” I sniffed and ran my finger under my nose, then under my lashes.
Jack pulled a black pocket square out of his breast pocket, and I laughed a little too hard, emotionally spent after spilling out how I really felt.
“Mara, I still won’t run around on you, no matter if we’re physical or not. My commitment to you is still the same. Even if I can’t give you love, I won’t hurt you.”
“It hurts me that you won’t even try,” I whispered, tears breaking my speech.
He nodded, his thumb stroking my palm. “I just don’t know, Mara, so I don’t want to promise something that’s not for sure. But I can give you what you need.”
“What I need is love.” I swallowed hard and my lip trembled.
The chapel door creaked open again, a hearty metal click from the handle. “Jacques Leroy?”
“It’s for the kids, Mara. For your health. We’re stronger together than we are apart.”
The woman in the doorway cleared her throat.
“Coming,” Jack said, extending his hand to me. “Marry me?”
