"She adores anyone who reads Charlotte’s Web in funny voices," I say.
"You do the pig voice," Mia says.
"I commit to the bit."
"She talks about you constantly," Mia says. "Just last week, she made you sit next to her and wouldn’t let anyone else braid her hair."
That hits lower than I expect.
Robin folds her arms. "We're not glossing over the part where this is permanent. You don’t get married and then quietly dissolve it when the legal threat passes."
She leans forward, and continues. "This is your life, Natalie. You don’t uproot it because a man is panicking. You don’t trade autonomy for urgency."
"I know that," I say.
"Do you?" she presses.
I look at the coffee table instead of at her.
This is the part that matters.
"It wouldn’t be fake," I say. "If I did it, it would be real."
Lila’s eyes light up. "See? That’s hot."
"Stop saying hot," Robin says.
"It is," Lila insists. "It’s commitment under pressure. Very Jane Austen with better abs."
"He's not Mr. Darcy," I say.
"He's six-foot-something and broods like he’s hiding a scandal in his waistcoat," Lila says. "He qualifies."
Annabelle huffs a quiet laugh.
Mia smirks. "If by ‘scandal in his waistcoat’ you mean something… structurally impressive, that's statistically relevant."
Lila snorts. "Now that’s a data point I can get behind."
"Lila," I say dryly, "you are one glass away from needing supervision."
Lila lifts her glass. "Not wrong."
Annabelle studies me. "Do you think he’d treat it like temporary?"
I hesitate for half a second. "No," I say, more certain than I expected to be.
That’s the terrifying part.
Gabriel would never treat it lightly.
"If he says vows, he means them," I say. "Especially with Maddie watching. There’s no version of this where it’s temporary."
Robin softens a fraction. "Then the real question is whether you’re ready to say vows and mean them."
I reach for my wine.
"I built my life exactly the way I wanted it," I say. "I have my apartment. My business. My schedule. I answer to no one."
