Page 123 of The Pact
I laugh despite myself. “Okay, we’ll talk about it. We have a lot to take care of, and that might have to go on the back burner.”
“That’s not a no,” she murmurs as she walks back to the couch.
“It means we’ll talk about it.”
My father walks back with my mom and sits down again, watching us carefully.
“Is this why you scheduled a meeting with the attorneys today, then?” my dad asks.
“It is. We wanted to speak to you, too, first, though,” Saint tells him.
My father nods. “We appreciate that, thank you.”
Saint wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads us over to the couch.
“We’ll be there,” my mom says.
Saint nods. “Thank you.”
“And Saint?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re not alone in this. You weren’t before, and you aren’t now. You’re family.”
Saint takes my hand and twines his fingers with mine. “I’m starting to believe that.”
The meeting with the attorneys feels different this time.
Maybe because both of my parents are here. Or maybe it’s because I’m sitting beside Saint, not as his best friend or his team doctor or the woman who’s been sleeping in his bed for weeks because he didn’t want to be alone.
This time, I’m here as his wife.
Marlowe has a stack of folders in front of her, Doug beside her, and the North Carolina counsel dialed in on the screen.
Saint sits tall, focused, one hand resting on the table. Our hands are close, but not touching.
“Let’s do a quick summary of where things stand before you tell us what you wanted to discuss today,” Marlowe says.
“No, I’d like to start before we continue,” Saint says. “We have some news.”
All eyes shift to him.
Then he reaches for my hand. “Presley and I got married.”
Rebecca, the North Carolina attorney, blinks on the screen.
Marlowe’s expression doesn’t change much, but I do see a tiny lift in her eyes.
“Okay, that’s good news.”
Doug nods. “Very good news, practically speaking.”
Practically speaking?
I understand what he means—I know why we did it—but for some reason, the way he said it bothers me.
The legal value of our marriage.
