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With a graceful sweep of her arm, Linda invites us to sit in front of her desk. She opens a worn leather-bound book, its pages filled with the names of countless couples who've embarked on this same journey.
Linda's face is lined by days spent in the sun and a life well-lived. It's a kind face with curious eyes that seem to notice everything. She writes on an official-looking document, her handwriting neat and concise. Then she asks Lucas and me to stand.
My knees quake as I rise and face my soon-to-be-husband. Lucas takes my hands as we face each other, careful not to jolt my injured wrist. His warmth and strength calm my fluttering nerves.
Linda's words are white noise as she talks about the convention and sanctity of marriage. All I see, all I feel, is the man standing before me, his lips moving as he speaks words I can't hear over the buzzing in my ears.
I'm so lost in his eyes that I startle when I hear my name. I suddenly realize both Linda and Lucas are looking at me expectantly.
"Sorry, I was miles away," I say, blushing.
My gaze slides to Lucas. His russet eyes are focused on me as if he wants to devour me, causing my heart to stutter.
I must be in a coma. Or I’m dead, and I’ve discovered heaven. I mean, look at him. He’s so hot. He’s minutes away from becoming my husband. None of this is real. It can’t be.
Linda gives me a reassuring smile. "No problem, Amalie. It's a big day. Are you sure you want to proceed?"
"Yes, I'm sure," I say immediately.
“Would you like me to repeat the last part?" Linda asks kindly.
I nod. "Yes, please."
"Do you, Amalie Vasti, take Lucas Lawson to be your husband?”
I look at the handsome man who stands almost a foot above me. His smile is gentle, his eyes solemn, swirling with a hunger that echoes within me. He'll keep me safe, even if it seems odd that he's going through with this. For a heartbeat, I wonder if this is a mistake.
After all, what kind of man would do something so wild for a woman he barely knows? I shake off the thought. Who else would be able to keep me safe besides someone in law enforcement?
I take a deep breath, my stomach rolling nervously.
“Yes,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
I can't believe this is happening. It's surreal, like a beautiful dream I never want to wake up from.
Lucas’s eyes lock with mine, and I see the emotion shining in their depths. At that moment, I know deep in my soul that we're meant to be together. He tightens his hands around mine, intertwining our fingers.
The magistrate smiles warmly, sensing the depth of our connection.
“And do you, Lucas, take Amalie to be your wife?” she asks, her voice filled with sincerity.
Lucas doesn’t hesitate for a second. “I do,” he says firmly, his voice unwavering and filled with conviction.
The magistrate hums with approval before she concludes the wedding and has us sign the paperwork needed to file the marriage certificate.
She makes a few personal remarks to Lucas, whom she seems to know well, then turns to me. “I’ve known Lucas since he was a kid. He’s a good man. He’ll treat you right. I hope you both have a wonderful marriage. Congratulations.”
She has no idea that this marriage is a sham, a way to keep my father and his plans from making my life a living hell. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
The words seem too little, but they're all that come to mind.
Lucas turns back to me, his eyes moving over my face as if committing every feature to memory. “Shall we go?”
“Yeah, sure.” This still feels like a dream, but his hand is real and solid, anchoring me in the moment, tethering me to him and him to me, much like the vows we just spoke.
Once we're in the car, I look down at the ring on my finger. The enormity of what I’ve done overwhelms me. My throat swells with panic. But then Lucas reaches for my hand again, tangling our fingers and placing them on his muscular thigh, and all my doubts melt away. Everything about this situation, about this man, feels right.
As we pull up to Lucas’s house, a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety bubbles in my stomach. I'm now his wife, and I don’t have to worry about a forced marriage anymore.
