“This has to be at least fifty pages.” Panic settles in my chest as I continue to count. “Okay, more than fifty. How did you draft this already? We’ve been engaged for two hours.”
Unamused, he says in a gruff voice, “The wedding will happen next Saturday. Read through the document and add any changes in the margins.”
“But I—” I look up just as the door shuts, and I realize Darcy has left the room.
“Nine days.” I choke on the words as I process aloud. “Nine days. In nine days, I will be legally married to Darcy Marshall. In the eyes of the law, I will be his wife.” My heart struggles to maintain proper beats as reality sets in.
Being his wife is better than not having a place to live. Or drowning in student debt.
I think.
I’ve tried to find places to live within my budget, but nothing is available. The apartments that are open are in sketchy locations I no longer care to live. I’ve begged my landlady not to sell, but it’s no use. What’s happening is happening.
How does one put together a wedding in nine days? Not to mention, a wedding that will capture the attention of every news outlet and tabloid? My breathing becomes rapid and sweat prickles at the edges of my hairline.
It’s rare I wish for a mom since I’ve been on my own for so long, but…God, I could really use a mom right now.
My door opens without a knock and Darcy saunters back in.
“Mr. Marshall.” His name is a rasp on my lips. I meet his eyes.
“About the wedding…” He trails off, looking away before continuing. “Mother will take care of everything. My networking company, COFFEE, will pay for it.”
I stare at the man in front of me, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He finally looks my way again, and I simply nod, not trusting words.
He tilts his head to the side, almost as if he is expressing sympathy, and then he walks out of the door.
His mother.
The thought of in-laws never crossed my mind when I agreed to marry Darcy. Student loans, a place to live, a possible trip to Japan, Secretary of State, and a higher income were occupying my thoughts. Not a mother-in-law or a dead father-in-law with an unpleasant reputation. Goodness, is it hot in here?
I close my eyes and flap my hands wildly around my face.
Two hands wrap around my wrist mid flap, then my hands are engulfed by a much larger set.
“Darcy,” I say, recognizing his spicy scent. I don’t open my eyes.
“If you want to back out, now is your chance. I will not force you to marry me. But I think this can work.” The sincerity in his voice takes me by surprise, and I finally open my eyes. If his voice was sincere, his eyes are sparkling blue pools of truth.
I trust him.
Though he is cold and standoffish, I think it’s because he doesn’t process the world like the rest of us. I’ve been getting glimmers of that lately. He apologizes when he needs to, and he’s never done anything to intentionally hurt me. Stella is right—he cares for his people even if he doesn’t always do the greatest job at showing it.
I can do this.
We can do this.
My breathing finally begins to slow.
“I’m okay. Let’s do this.”
He releases my hands, and they suddenly feel cold and lonely, as if his hands were a comfy blanket ripped away without warning. Ignoring the feeling, I pick up the contract.
“Read through it. Contact me if you have any questions.” And with that, he’s gone again. Hopefully, for good.
Because the flush burning my face now has nothing to do with anxious thoughts and everything to do with Darcy’s hands on mine.
He hasneverbeen that kind and considerate to me. He gave me an honest chance to back out. I should have taken it. I should have said never mind and started apartment hunting again.
