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I look down at the desk. “I’m afraid.”
“I know, Bastien. Believe me, yours is a position I don’t envy. This should be the happiest period of your life. You’re married to a good man who genuinely loves you. Instead, you have this cloud hanging over you. I will get justice for it.”
“When he saw that I was a finalist, you should have seen his face. He was so proud of me. He has been proud of me for weeks, out loud, at a volume I can’t survive. He’s given up his entire life to sit in a trailer with a man who has nothing left to offer him. They will rip us to shreds in there. They will do it smiling.” I take a breath.
Patrick is quiet for a moment. Then he picks the pen back up, which is somehow worse than sympathy. I sigh. “So, the immigration case? You said that you’d get into that?”
“Yeah. These are going to sound offensive, but they are standard things that USCIS will be asking. Especially because the timing of your unemployment is going to look a little suspicious. Did you enter this marriage of your own free will, Dr. Saint-Jacques?”
“Yes.”
“Has there been coercion in its formation, or any financial arrangement or understanding between you?”
“No. I entered of my own free will.”
“And do you love your husband?”
I stare at him. “I worship the ground he walks on. I am not a brave man. If he had not pursued me I would have continued to love him quietly and miserably for the rest of my life, but far, far away. I thank God every day that he looked at me and said, This is the one, because I would not have been able to do it myself. Yes. I love my husband.”
He nods and writes something down. “That’s good.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all. It’s a good answer. It has the advantage of being true.” He turns a page. “Last thing. The hearing. You’re entitled to counsel. That line about who’s strongly discouraged is troubling. You don’t ban the friends and family if you’re going to give good news.” He sighs and leans back. “As your lawyer, I can advise you what not to do, and I’ve already done that. But, as much as I hate to admit it, you can’t escape this by hiding forever. Even if you wish you could.”
Chapter forty-four
Levi
Icome out of the shower and the garment bag is laid out flat on the bed, unzipped partway. I glance at my green service uniform, zip it up, and put it back in the closet.
“Are you sure?” Bastien asks from the mirror, where he’s fighting with his gray tie. “I thought you might want it. People respect the uniform.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? It’s a formal occasion.”
“Not the right kind.” I take the tie out of his hands, because he’s made a disaster of it, and start over. “Weddings. Funerals. Military balls. Parades on a national holiday. Ceremonies where a unit is taking part. That’s the full list, and a fundraiser in a hotel is not on it.”
“Merde. I should know that.”
I pause. “Baby boy, why would you know that?”
“I work with veterans.”
“And I’m your first and only relationship with one. How did you do this?” I pull the knot free and start from scratch.
He lifts his chin for me. “I normally tie them once and then hang them up in the closet so all I have to do is slide them on and off. Why did you untie all my ties anyway?”
“Because they all needed to be ironed! Which I did.” I smooth his tie and tuck it into his black vest. “That’s great.”
“Sorry about the uniform. I was just nervous.”
“They wouldn’t come after me if I did it. But I’d know.”
He studies me. “I like that about you.”
I smooth his vest one extra time, because inside I’m liquefying.
