“Falsely, from what you and Ms. Butler have talked about,” I interject.
“True, true, but until Dex called her firm, I didn’t know how to proceed about getting my conviction overturned,” he says. “So, if we got married, my name would be on the baby’s birth certificate. That asshole… sorry, ladies, but he is, wouldn’t have any recourse at all.”
“Unless he asked for a DNA sample,” I retort.
“But why would he do that? As far as he’d be aware, not that I personally care about his thoughts and feelings, we started seeing each other after that night,” he rebuts. “And while we don’t know when your court date will be on the docket, you’ll either be heavily pregnant, wearing wedding rings, or you’ll have had the baby and again, be wearing wedding rings.”
“It could work,” Ms. Butler says, jerking me back into awareness that we’re not alone, she’s heard everything, and she thinks it’s a good idea. “And as for your concern regarding him asking for a DNA sample, he has no reason to do so and no judge would require that since you’d be legally married. Cruz’s name on the birth certificate would supersede any claims Clark would have. Not only that, but he’d be admitting what he did, and while I’m not his legal counsel, there’s no way his attorney should allow him to do that.”
I shudder when I think of that man and his actions that night. The fact that he’s out on bail scares me half to death. I may have a protective order against him, but I watch way too many crime documentaries and listen to podcasts as well and know they’re usually ineffective. Nothing more than a piece of paper, a twig from a tree.
I have my reservations about this hoax of a marriage, however, because while I’m okay with Cruz’s touch to a point, I don’t know if I can be intimate with him oranyman anytime soon. Would that be fair to ask that of him? Or would our marriage be like Jolie and Dex’s was before they realized how much they loved each other?
Before I can respond to her comment, Cruz leans in and whispers, “I know you’ve got doubts and we can discuss those later, but it’s a good plan, Mindy, and it’ll protect the baby who is gonna be born against all odds.”
“I need to call Jolie and tell her,” I say. “Then I need to tell Brock and my parents. Should I tell him the truth or sell the lie that you’re the father?”
“Things done in the dark always come to light, Mindy,” he replies as we head into town toward the diner. “I think you need to tell him what happened, but maybe make sure Dex is around since he’s his best friend and can hopefully keep him in line so he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“This is gonna kill him,” I tell him. “He and Dex worked so hard to teach me and Jolie how to keep ourselves safe when we started dating. They may be older than us, but they taught usall they knew as far as fighting dirty, then Brock paid for self-defense courses for me. He’s going to think he failed me.” Tears are welling in my eyes at the perceived reaction I anticipate from Brock. “Plus, what about you? I mean, we barely know each other, Cruz, yet you’re willing to saddle yourself with a hormonal, pregnant woman who’s having a baby that’s not biologically yours.”
He clears his throat and glances in my direction. “Mindy, I wasn’t lying when I said I was into you, I just wasn’t sure how you’d take it when you found out my status as an ex-con and parolee. However, it seems you're not worried about that, you’re concerned about something that doesn’t really matter at the end of the day.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“My sisters and I were all adopted by our parents,” I admit. “Mom couldn’t have kids and wanted them so much that she and my dad became foster parents. They took the three of us in so we could stay together, and ended up adopting all of us. I don’t think of them as anything other than my parents, plain and simple. Family isn’t always about who shares your blood, sweetheart, it’s about who comes into your life and decides to stay. And for the record, I’m staying. I know you’re worried about the physical side of things and I’m gonna tell you this, as long as it takes, that’s how long I’ll wait, okay?”
“But what if I can never—” she starts to say before I cut her off.
“Then I’ll be sure to alternate hands so one arm isn’t noticeably larger than the other,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “Because at the end of the day, what does or doesn’t happen in the privacy of our home is nobody else’s business but ours, plain and simple.”
“I’ve got an appointment with a therapist next week,” I admit. “I was going to do it via a video chat, but Jolie convinced me that I need to start living again. Yes, whathedid was horrible and vile, but by holing up in my house, I’m still allowing him to have power over me.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” he asks. “I don’t have to go inside, of course, but I can sit in the waiting room until you’re done.”
“I… I think I’d like that,” I reply. “Now, who are we calling first about this faux marriage of ours?”
“I think your parents and brother, then Jolie and Dex, because the sooner we get it done, the better. Especially since sometimes, babies come early, you know what I mean?”
Squeezing his hand in mine, I whisper, “Thank you. You’re saving me once again, Cruz, and if it takes me the rest of my life, I’ll find a way to show you just how much I appreciate it.”
