Theo’s jaw tightens—not visibly, but I feel it beside me.
“When my visa situation changed,” I say carefully. “But we’d already talked about a future together.”
Theo nods. “Marriage itself wasn’t sudden. Just the timing.”
Officer Rollins studies us for a long moment, then stands. “I’ll speak with you individually now. Mrs. Strickland, you first.”
My heart slams against my ribs.Mrs. Strickland. No one’s called me that yet. I also hadn’t planned on changing my name because this was never supposed to last forever. But somethingabout hearing it has it settling into my bones, causing an ache so deep I wonder if I’ll be able to shake it out after this.
Theo gives my hand one last squeeze before he stands and exits the room.
Officer Rollins asks about my first impressions of him, our first encounters. His job. His habits. What side of the bed he sleeps on.
“The left,” I answer.
“What annoys you about him?”
I blink. “He leaves his boots around the house instead of by the door.”
She arches a brow. “Only that?”
I hesitate. Then, softly, “He … takes care of everyone but himself.”
Her expression softens—just a fraction.
When Theo returns, it’s my turn to wait in the hall. There’s a single chair by the door, and I take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that I can still hear the muffled conversation from within the office. And if I really focus, I can make out words.
At first, it feels intrusive—but then I shake my head. No, we’re here with a goal, and it’s not like he’s in there with a therapist.
I hear her ask similar questions to the ones I was given along with slight variations. My sleeping habits, my favorite foods.
“And what does your wife usually drink in the morning?” Officer Rollins’ voice wafts through the walls.
There’s no hesitation. Not even a pause to think. “Coffee,” Theo says. “Dark roast. Oat milk and, like, a ton of sugar. She won’t drink it black. She might pretend to if we’re out of milk, but I’ll just find a cold cup of coffee sitting around somewhere hours later.” He chuckles.
My breath catches. That’s … correct. I never would’ve guessed he’d notice that.
“What side of the bed does she sleep on?”
“The right,” Theo says. “Away from the window. She doesn’t sleep well if the rain or wind is too loud.”
I swallow.
There’s a shuffle of papers. A pen clicking.
“What’s something she does when she’s stressed?”
Theo exhales softly. “She gets quiet. Makes herself scarce, small. Like she feels like her emotions are a burden on others—but they’re not.”
My chest tightens.
“And her favorite food?”
“Thai,” he says. “Pad see ew. No peanuts—she’s not allergic, she just hates the texture.”
I stare straight ahead, my vision blurring. I clench my fists, trying to breathe, but it’s becoming increasingly harder.
Officer Rollins hums thoughtfully. “What’s her biggest fear?”
