“I call it intentional,” I reply. “Yes, he’s scared. Of course he is. There’s a threat hanging over his daughter. But you think I’d tie myself legally to someone if that were the only reason? You really think I don’t know the difference?”
That hits him harder than yelling would have.
Gabriel steps in then, calm but firm.
He doesn’t flinch.
“I am scared,” he says plainly. “I’d be an idiot not to be. There’s a threat hanging over my kid. But I didn’t wake up yesterday suddenly craving a wedding.”
Mason’s eyes narrow slightly.
“I asked her because when things get hard, she doesn’t panic,” Gabriel continues. “She thinks. She shows up. I’ve seen it. I know her well enough to know that matters. And, like I said, I like her. Enough that this isn’t just strategy.”
He looks Mason straight in the eye.
“If this were only about fear, I’d hire help and keep my life simple. I didn’t. I asked your sister.”
Mason points between us. “You’re not moving in tomorrow.”
“I’m not,” I say.
“You’re not eloping.”
“We’re not.”
“You’re not turning this into some spectacle.”
“We won’t,” Gabriel answers.
Mason paces once across the living room.
“I swear to God,” he mutters. “If Mom finds out from Instagram—”
“She won’t,” I say quickly. “We’ll tell her. Together.”
He stops pacing.
“What happens when the custody threat goes away?” he asks.
There it is.
The real question.
“We’re still married,” I say.
No hesitation.
No flourish.
Just fact.
Gabriel looks at me.
Not shocked.
Just… still.
Mason notices.
