Page 108 of The Pact
I squeeze his hand. “So we just tell them we’re married.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I mean, it will be the truth.”
“Right, truth.”
There’s something simple about that word.
Not complicating anything. Just letting it be what it is.
“How do you want to handle your parents?” he asks after a moment.
I let out a breath. “Well, my dad already knows the legal aspect since he was there.”
“Right.”
“But this part”—I gesture between our naked bodies—“is a little different.”
“You’re right, it is,” he says with certainty.
“I’m sure my dad has told my mom,” I say. “I really think they’ll be supportive under the circumstances.”
“I know,” he says. “I just want to make sure they know I’m not using you.”
“Using me?” I ask.
He nods. “I’m not using you. I want them to know how much I care about you.”
“Okay,” I pause. “We should talk to them together. I think after the wedding though. I know my mom will want a party, and we agreed on a no-fuss wedding.”
“Absolutely.”
There’s a quiet understanding that this will affect everything. The kids. My family. The team. The organization as a whole. Our future.
But it feels … simple.
“So tomorrow,” I say, I tick things off mentally. “School, nursery, marriage license.”
“Get married?” he adds casually.
I blink at him.
“Saint, there’s a waiting period.”
“There is?”
“Yeah, I think we have to wait, like, twenty-four or forty-eight hours after we get the license.”
“Huh, okay.”
“You just slid that in there like it’s normal, everyday conversation.”
He shrugs. “Feels normal to me.”
And the thing is, he’s not wrong. It does.
I study him for a minute.
