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“I don’t have much time, Mr. White. This isn’t how I’m meant to officiate weddings.”
“I appreciate the favor.”
He knows. That man knows this isn’t something I’ve agreed to. It’s obvious. Nate was in a rush because our officiant is doing this under the table, probably for a lot of money, maybe threats, could be both.
“Alright, I need signatures here and here from the bride and the groom.” We’re skipping the I do’s then.
We don’t even sit. Nate signs first, then shoves the pen into my hand. I’m shaking so strongly I can’t even put the ball of the pen to the paper.
“Kayla.” His voice is soft, his breath warm on the skin of my neck. He slides a hand along my right arm until he’s gripping my wrist and pressing his thumb against my pulse. “Breathe, baby. This is almost over.”
Don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby.
The word itself doubles my panic.
“Please.” I have never sounded so pathetic in my entire life. “I c-can’t. Nate…”
“Take a deep breath.” He’s right behind me now, cornering me against the table. His thumb presses harder, hurting me, showing me how fast my heart’s beating. “Calm your heartbeat. Control your emotions. Accept that this is happening.”
I whimper when he starts pressing my wrist against the table, forcing the pen to paper.
“Mr. White…” The officiant hesitates. “This… She needs to sign herself.”
His other arm wraps around my waist and all I feel is him. His warmth, his scent. I feel his breath, his heartbeat against my back. “Do it, little sunflower. Be mine.”
My hand moves.
He releases my wrist but not my waist. The pen glides against the paper, black ink sealing my fate to his. A drop hits the paper right on my name, wetting the ink and thickening the K of King.
That’s when I feel it, the tear that ran down my cheek and all the way to my chin before dripping onto the paper.
I drop the pen like it’s on fire, wiping my face before anyone sees it.
“The witnesses, please.” The hurried voice of the town hall bureaucrat makes everything even worse.
Nate helps me step back, and Sam steps in. He signs under Nate’s name. Next is Emma. She grabs the pen, looks at my name, and I know she can see the wet spot.
Her head snaps around to me, her eyebrows pinched. She observes me, a prisoner of Nate’s hold, helpless to the marriage I’m being forced into, and for the first time in my entire life, I see something that looks like sympathy in her gaze. For the first time, she sees us as what we truly are. Two women who did our best at surviving, and yet kept playing the games men around us had set up for us. The wars they started, the vengeance they upheld. And today, she witnesses me lose the ultimate game Nate organized.
She hesitates, looking at Nate, then me again, and before she turns to sign, I read her words loud and clear on her twisted features.
I’m sorry.
The officiant practically rips the paper from her hold. He nods toward Nate, skipping anything he’s supposed to say and instead muttering, “You’re officially Mr. and Mrs. White. Now, please leave.”
There’s no kiss, only his hand in mine as he drags me out of the room. Only the hurried steps of our witnesses behind us.
“You did good,” Nate murmurs as he takes me down the outside stairs and to his parked car. “It’s done now. You’re okay.”
I’m not okay. I’m numb. I’m petrified. I’m like a lifeless doll as he opens his car and pushes me inside. He puts my seatbelt on, leaving a kiss on my forehead before rounding the car and taking his seat.
We’re driving before I can even register that we’re not in the room anymore. In my head, I’m still holding that pen. I haven’t signed yet.
It’s when I see the Stoneview woods that it finally hits me.
He did it. He forced me to marry him.
Run to me. I’ll take you in.
