“No. We aren’t from the Department of Home Affairs. But anything you can tell us about your relationship, and this alleged mix-up with your marriage documentation, may determine whether we immediately deport you.”
My brain snagged on the word ‘deport’ and refused to process anything else.
“Mrs Baxter? Irina?” the detective prompted. I swallowed, forcing myself to think, to speak, to dosomethingto save myself.
Henry didn’t put himself through all of this for you to choke at the crucial moment!
“Henry slid into my Tickle DMs, midway through last year …”
I launched into the story that we had concocted that day in the spa. Their deadpan expressions gave nothing away, but every nerve in my body vibrated with the urge to run, to escape. They wouldn’t believe me. They’d see right through me, and I’d be deported before Henry could come to save me.
Forcing the darkness away, I focused on the memory of warm water, and teasing him until he blushed, and the kiss we’d shared, the one that had triggered his platonic-in-private rule.
The rule I resented as much as I clung to.
“… And wewouldhave applied for my partner visa before my student visa expired, but something?—”
“WHERE IS MY WIFE?!” a deep, furious voice boomed in the hallway outside, and my insides turned to jelly.
“I’m sorry, sir, she’s just in?—”
The door burst open, and Henry, jaw tight and green eyes blazing, swept into the room, his gaze locking on me.
I burst into tears.
My vision blurred under the ferocity of them, my chest heaving as I sucked in frantic gasps of air.
Warm arms wrapped me up in comfort, soft lips found my temple.
“I’m here, Catnip. It’s all going to be okay.”
“Th-thank you!” I choked, clawing my fingers into the back of his shirt and refusing to let go. He didn’t make me. His hands just continued rubbing soothing circles on my back.
“You can’t just barge in here!” one of the detectives protested. I clung tighter to Henry. “This is inappropriate!”
“Do you know what’s inappropriate?” Henry asked, voice low and dangerous and rumbling against the side of my face that was pressed into his chest. “Detaining a woman who has done everything she could to follow your rules in the face of online systems that are outdated and underdelivering.”
“We’re only following instructions from Home Affairs, Mr Baxter. We have no jurisdiction over their procedures.”
Henry grunted in disgust. “You arrested my wife, who would have already had a partner visa approved if it wasn’t for the rundown state of government IT despite being aware that she has a pending application, and?—”
“A denied application,” one of the detectives interjected. I froze, barely daring to breathe.
“Denied only because of incompetence on your end!” Henry argued, without missing a beat, his palms still making rhythmic circles in my back. Had he known that my visa had been rejected, or was he just that good of an actor? “And since you’re aware of that, you should also be aware that we were advised to go offshore and reapply. I asked for our conversation to be noted in her file.”
Offshore? This was all news to me. My chest felt tight for a whole new reason.
“And yet here she is. Very clearly not offshore.”
“Do you know who I am, detective?” Henry asked acidly.
“Don’t go throwing your money around in here, mate. It won’t turn out how you’d like it to.”
“That’s not at all what I was doing, I can assure you.”
“Then get to your point, Mr Baxter.” The detective sounded bored. Henry’s pecs twitched against my face.
“If you release her to me, now, I have the means to ensure that we leave the country within the next forty-eight hours.”
