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“It goes both ways. Perhaps if we wait—” he tilted his head thoughtfully “—I’ll get cold feet and decide to call it all off.”
“Fine with me—”
“Perhaps I’ll decide I’d rather sue for full custody, and take my chances in the courts. I can wait out a long trial. Can you?”
She glared at him.
He smiled.
Lola looked down at her baby’s fuzzy jacket, breathing in his sweet baby scent. “I don’t appreciate ham-fisted threats.”
He shrugged. “I despise long engagements—”
“Long!”
“I want to get this done.” His gaze hardened. “Is there any reason to delay?”
Her friends, she thought desperately. She wanted Tess and Hallie here for emotional support. And what about her little sisters? She hadn’t seen them for seven years, but it felt wrong not to have her only family here.
But she couldn’t be vulnerable enough to show weakness. Especially not with Rodrigo.
Instead, she indicated her black puffy jacket and leggings. “Does this look like a wedding dress to you?”
Taking off his cashmere coat, he glanced down at his own black shirt and trousers and gave a sardonic smile. “We are both wearing black, which seems appropriate for the occasion.”
“Meaning what? This is like a funeral for you?” Hurt rushed through her, followed by anger. “If you’re having second thoughts about marriage...”
His dark eyes turned hard. “I’m not. And neither are you.” He looked down at her. “It happens now.”
Her heart sank. So there would be no pleasant pre-wedding afternoon at the day spa with Tess and Hallie. No deep intense conversations over champagne as they helped her get ready to be a bride. They wouldn’t be here to support her as she pledged her life to the man who’d broken her heart. The man who’d judged her past mistakes and made it clear he didn’t think she was good enough. The man who’d tossed her love back in her face, and would never, ever, have wanted to marry her if not for Jett.
Lola would face it alone. Dressed for a funeral.
She took a deep breath.
“Fine,” she said coldly. “Let’s get it over with.”
They returned to the main room of the loft.
“We’re ready,” Rodrigo told the judge.
“There’s no rush, you know.” The white-haired man suddenly looked nervous, glancing between them as if wondering what he’d gotten himself into, and how he could get himself out of it. “Marriage is, after all, a solemn occasion. Now that I think about it, there’s a reason why the State of New York, in its infinite wisdom, instituted a twenty-four-hour waiting period—”
“Just do it,” Rodrigo said harshly. His hand gripped her shoulder.
“Please,” whispered Lola, ignoring the lump in her throat.
The judge hesitated. Then the baby gave a sudden sleepy whimper in Lola’s arms, and she and Rodrigo both turned to comfort him. Watching them caring together for their son, tucking the baby back into the stroller for his nap, the judge seemed reassured. He gave a decisive nod when they returned.
“Very well. Ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned. “We are gathered here today, in the presence of witnesses, to unite this man and this woman in the bonds of matrimony...”
The short ceremony passed quickly. As if in a dream, Lola heard herself speak the words that bound her to Rodrigo for life.
But the awful truth was, she’d bound herself to him long ago, from the night she’d become pregnant with his chil
d.
And now, from this moment on, forever.
