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“I am to get married.”
My eyes popped up, and my mouth dropped open with a will of their own.
“What?” I croaked.
“This is the only solution for the moment. I need to present a stable front. With a wife.”
A wife.
Even though I had walked in here expecting to work for a couple, I couldn’t imagine him with a wife now.
That’s because you’ve been imagining him doing other things.
I didn’t like the way I felt. I didn’t know why it was, but I didn’t like it, anyway. I wasn’t sure what I lost when there never had been anything to hold on to. Just a few stolen moments conjured up in my mind. Conjured or not, the new Mrs Capizzi wouldn’t approve of them. I was sure of that.
I listened to him half-heartedly drone on about how he would no longer be single, more stability for Cora, a mother figure…
Shit.
This was why he was telling me. I was going to lose my job.
What was I to do now? I would have to say goodbye to little Cora. I would never see her walk, talk… hell, forget all that, Cora wouldn’t even know me if I were to bump into her one day, ten years, twenty years down the road.
“You will, of course, have to move your things …”
That was that, then.
“To my room…”
Why would I have to do that?
“What?”
“We will apply for a marriage certificate immediately. If you want, of course, we can have a reception later on.”
My head felt like it did when I had the flu. It was thickened with phlegm, and coherent thought was impossible. “I don’t understand,” I muttered.
What had I missed?
“Or not. If you don’t want one, fine by me.” He stared at me, puzzled.
This can’t be happening.
“Want what?” I whispered.
“A reception, of course.”
“Fuck the reception,” I snapped. “Go back to what you said before.”
His forehead creased. “We will need a marriage certificate soon. No point in —”
“Stop.” I held my hand out. “I don’t get it. Why am I involved in this?”
His eyes bored into mine. “Well, as my wife, you will have to do more than—”
“I am not Mrs Capizzi,” I rushed.
He raised an eyebrow.
