Online, her full smile and short white hair made her look approachable, but in the flesh she seemed weary, her eyelids were droopy, and her maroon skirt suit was clearly too big for her frame.
“It was love at first sight,” I explained. “Cassie’s my landlord’s daughter. We met in front of my apartment. Isn’t that funny?” I left the heart attack and the funeral out to give the story a sweeter quality.
Cassie smiled blandly, like what we were discussing didn’t concern her in any way.
“Sure,” Erica Min said with a bite.
This was not going well. “Look, we’re in love, we’re married, and you already agreed to take our case.” She’d also said we could do this over video call, but I’d lied and told her I had to be in the city anyway. It felt like truth enough. Any excuse to get out of that sad house.
“That’s why I must insist you have a proper wedding. It doesn’t have to be fancy; it just has tobe.” She flicked the folder closed and crossed her hands over it, her gold pinkie ring on full display. Then, she turned to Cassie. “I understand your parents are deceased, but you’ve told your sister you’re married, right? Because, honestly, it doesn’t look too good that she wasn’t there for the ceremony.”
“We’re not close,” Cassie said. “I don’t see why I need to tell her.”
I’d barely seen her sister since we’d been upstate. To be honest, I hadn’t seen much of Cassie, either. She got up late, spent hours on her phone, and then would leave to hang out with her friends, who I tried hard to keep track of. One—Julie?—was a department manager at Walmart and could, quote unquote, mix a mean cocktail. Harper, a barista, mentioned her numerous tattoos—their meaning, their location on her body, their birthday—any chance she got. Brianna, the more approachable of the lot, was an admin at a dentist’s office. I got the sense that the others only somewhat tolerated Cassie, and Brianna was the connection that kept them friends.
As to what Cassie did with her life: well, not a whole lot. She didn’t “currently” work. Talking to people at her party, I’d pieced together a clearer picture of my wife: that candle-making business hadn’t gone very far. Cassie had talked about setting up a stand at the local markets but had never followed through. The event planning she’d mentioned had been to help organize Brianna’s bachelorette and another friend’s birthday party. And the inn… Well, they had stopped operating it when their mother got sick and it became too hard to manage it all. Cassie had lied about everything.Everything.
The lawyer nodded slowly, her expression bland. “Well, tell your sister. Ask her to be your maid of honor or whatnot. We need something to workwith.”
Cassie shrugged and looked back at her phone. I’d checked her Instagram after parking the car: she’d posted a video of us going over the bridge, captioning it,In town for business!I’d rolled my eyes so hard. Cassie wouldn’t know the meaning of business if it hit her in the face.
“I’d love to have a wedding!” I said, so chipper I jumped in my seat. “We talked about that, didn’t we?” I placed a hand on Cassie’s thigh. She didn’t react.
Erica Min raised a thin eyebrow. “I’m going to be straight with you,” she said, wagging her bony index finger from Cassie to me. “The Department of Homeland Security sees people attempting to commit marriage fraud every day. I don’t know what kind of deal you two have, but since you’re already married, you better work on making it squeaky clean, and fast. Or else, I’d give up now.”
Cassie’s eyes darted to me. It was not the time to point out that I hadn’t given her money—hadn’t offered anything other than a reason to make her ex jealous—and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could fake it. But of course it was obvious now that I was going to pay for this in other ways. Nothing was ever free, a lesson I apparently still needed to learn.
“We’re in love,” I said. “That’s why we got married. Right, Cassie?”
She looked startled, like I’d awoken her. “Uh-huh. What do you mean, give up?”
“Nothing,” I said, jumping in. “No one’s giving up anything.” The last thing I needed was for Cassie to find out she could divorce me at any moment and just move on with her life.
An awkward silence followed.
Ms. Min cleared her throat. “Okay, well, if we’re going to do this, you need more pictures of you two with your families and friends, whatever you got. Vacation photos would be good, too.” She paused but neither of us had anything to say about that. “What’s your husband’s date ofbirth?” she said to Cassie, who had moved on to staring at her chipped nail polish.
She pouted. “Umm, January…something?”
I swallowed hard. Not even close.
The next question was for me. “How does your wife take her coffee?”
“Black,” I answered quickly, hoping it would make me sound confident.
Cassie shook her head. “That’s only because there was no milk at your place. And sugar, two teaspoons.” She glanced at the lawyer like,Can you believe this guy?
But Erica Min didn’t indulge her. Instead, she rubbed at her temples. “This is not good at all. Plan a wedding. Get to know one another. Have a honeymoon, maybe.”
Cassie perked up suddenly. “We could go to Paris!”
“Yes!” the lawyer said, sounding way too enthusiastic now. “Take her to your home country, show her your culture. She could meet your parents.”
“No,” I said without thinking. “That won’t work.”
I was pretty sure my parents knew I’d moved overseas, but they hadn’t tried to contact me. I’d disconnected my French number and hadn’t given my U.S. one to anyone back home. Mom still sent me perfunctory emails for my birthday—March third—and Christmas, to which I always planned to respond before the shame and guilt held me back.
The lawyer shot me a shady look. “Well, you gotta dosomething. And be faithful to each other, okay? The last thing you need is for someone to come blabbering about how y’all are having sex with other people.”
