Page 7 of Married at Midnight

“You had a fantasy wedding,” Connor said. “It’s not every day that Elvis marries a couple.”

Ellie screwed up her face. “I’m pretty sure that happens in Vegas every day, especially in this chapel. Or do you not remember our wedding photos?”

“I remember.” He allowed silence to slip between them before he continued. “The fact is, we are married. And before we do anything to change that state, I need to ask you a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” she asked. Her eyes filled with suspicion. “What could you possibly want from me?”

“My father called me after you left the hotel. My grandmother has had a heart attack. She’s having surgery today. Even so, my father says her prognosis isn’t good. He asked me to come home quickly. In case she . . .” He couldn’t say the word.

With concern in her eyes, Ellie faced him. “I’m so sorry, Connor. I only met your grandmother a few times, but I could tell she was someone special.”

“Would you stay married to me for a little while longer?” he asked softly. He watched her face, waiting for a response. His heart beat a little faster. His palms grew damp. Time was of the essence here. He needed her to say yes.

“Stay married? To you?”

“Yes. Viola has said to me more than once that she wanted to live long enough to see me married. I can’t let her down.” He took Ellie’s hands in his own. “Will you come back to Seattle with me as my bride for my grandmother’s sake? Let’s pretend we’re happy together, at least while my grandmother recovers. Once she’s better, I’ll give you the divorce you want.” He couldn’t let his grandmother die without her at least believing he had found his one and only—like she had found his grandfather. If she recovered, he would find a way to explain what he’d done to try to keep her alive.

“Will you do it?” Connor asked.

The color faded from Ellie’s cheeks. “You want us to stay married for your grandmother’s sake?” Her eyes hardened. “It would be a lie.”

The words twisted inside him, but he pushed aside the memories that threatened. “My grandmother needs something to encourage her to fight for her life. Please, Ellie. I’m not ready to let her go just yet.”

“You really think our marriage will give her something to live for?” The glimmer of compassion in her eyes filled him with hope.

“Yes.”

Ellie pushed a lock of hair away from her face. “And when we tell her the truth? You think she’ll be better off knowing we lied to her then?”

“She’ll be alive at least. I can deal with the rest,” Connor replied.

Ellie closed her eyes, hiding her emotions from him. When she opened them a moment later, their brown depths were clear and expressionless. “I need to ask you something, Connor. Something that has nothing to do with your grandmother.”

“Okay,” he said, suddenly curious.

She opened the small purse at her side and withdrew a handful of hundred-dollar bills. “We didn’t gamble last night, did we?”

He shook his head, remembering the stack of bills he’d given her. He also remembered the radiance of her smile when he’d placed them in her hand.

“You gave these to me, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “I found it very admirable, what you’re doing.”

“Why support me in that way?” In that moment, she looked at him through the eyes he remembered.

“When you told me about the Birthday Project, you looked so sad because you didn’t have the funds to continue for October. I had the money, so I gave it to you,” he said with what he hoped was a casual shrug.

“Do you still feel the same way today, now that the thrill of last night and all the tequila are gone?” she asked, holding the money out to him.

He curled his hand around hers, gently guiding her hand and the money back toward her purse. “I still think what you’re doing is noble, and I’m happy to sponsor this month’s party.”

She stared at the money a moment longer before returning it to her purse. “I started the Birthday Project because of a little boy. He couldn’t have been more than five, strolling through Pike Place Market in front of me. He reached out and stole an apple from one of the vendors, then raced off. Before the vendor could chase him down, I paid for the apple, then followed the boy myself. I found him a few blocks away, hunched down in an alley, holding the apple before him and singing the birthday song to himself. When he saw me, he started to run, but I talked him into staying. We sat in that alley for a long time, talking about all the homeless kids, like himself, whose parents can’t celebrate their birthdays in any notable way given their circumstances. In that moment, I vowed I’d find a way to change that. To help kids like Kevin feel recognized and loved.”

She looked up at Connor, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for helping me keep my promise for October. It means the world to me and to the kids it will help.”

Connor could only nod, owing to the tightness in his throat.

Her expression softened. “All right. You helped me. I’ll help you. When do we leave?” Her words were only a thread above a whisper.