Chapter 5 Does a Husband Count As Family?

Dayna POV

The courthouse smelled of old paper and floor polish as Mr. Booth guided me toward what I assumed was the registration desk.

"Congratulations!" The clerk's cheerful voice made me jump slightly. "You two make such a lovely couple."

Heat flooded my cheeks. A lovely couple? If only she knew this marriage was purely practical.

"Would you like to take a photo?" the clerk continued.

I felt Mr. Booth's hand tense slightly under mine. He probably thought it was unnecessary, just another formality to endure.

"Actually," I said quickly, "I'd like that. If... if that's okay with you, Mr. Booth."

There was a pause. I wished desperately I could see his expression.

"Why?" His voice was neutral, giving nothing away.

I twisted my fingers together. "I can't see myself right now. But when my eyes get better, I'd like to look back and remember what I looked like on my wedding day. Even if this isn't a real marriage, it's still important to me."

Another pause. Then: "Fine."

The photographer positioned us, and I felt Mr. Booth's hand settle lightly on my lower back. The touch sent an unexpected shiver through me.

"Try to open your eyes for the photo," he said quietly.

I blinked, forcing my healing eyes open despite the discomfort. Light flooded in—blurry and unfocused, but there. For just a moment, I thought I could make out the shadow of Mr. Booth's face beside me, and my heart did a strange little flip.

The camera clicked.

"Beautiful!" the clerk exclaimed. "The certificate will be ready in just a moment."

After we signed the papers—Mr. Booth guiding my hand to the right spot on each form—he pressed something cool and rectangular into my palm.

"A wedding gift," he said simply.

I ran my fingers over the smooth glass surface, recognizing the shape immediately. "A phone?"

"Your old one was damaged last night. Run over by a car after you dropped it."

Guilt twisted in my stomach. Of course it was. I'd been so careless, stumbling around in the street like that.

"This is the latest iPhone," he continued. "I've already transferred your SIM card and set myself as your emergency contact. If you need anything urgent, just use voice command to call."

I clutched the phone to my chest, overwhelmed. "Mr. Booth, you're really... you're too good to me. I promise I won't be in your way. I'll be—"

"I need to return to the office," he interrupted, though not unkindly. "There are urgent matters that require my attention. I'll have Parker drive you to my apartment."

The words sent my heart racing. "Your apartment? But I couldn't possibly—"

"Do you have a place to stay, then?"

True. I shook my head.

"We're married now," he continued. "It's perfectly reasonable for a wife to live in her husband's apartment."

My face burned. "Your apartment it is," I said slowly. "Go take care of things at the office. I'll be fine on my own, really."

"You won't be on your own." His voice held that edge of command I was starting to recognize. "I've arranged for a housekeeper to stay at the apartment and help you with whatever you need."

He'd hired someone to take care of me. The thoughtfulness of it made my eyes sting with unshed tears.

"Now go," Mr. Booth continued. "I'll see you this evening."

And he was gone.

I was helped into the car by Parker. I bit my lip, gathering my courage. "Parker, could you do me a favor? Could you tell Mr. Booth something for me?"

"Of course."

"Tell him that once my eyes are healed and I can see again, I'll agree to a divorce. I won't cling to him or cause him trouble. I promise."

The car swerved slightly. "Miss Melgar—"

"I know this marriage is just so he can pay for my medical expenses without it being weird," I rushed on. "I understand that. And I'm grateful, truly. But I don't want him to think I'm one of those women who tries to trap a successful man."

Parker made a strange sound, almost like a suppressed laugh. "You're really something, you know that? Most women would jump at the chance to—" He stopped abruptly.

"Jump at the chance to what?"

"To... to marry into money. You know, like those gold-diggers who go after rich guys."

Something in his tone made me pause. "Is Mr. Booth rich?"

The silence stretched too long.

"Parker?"

"No, no," he said hastily. "I was just, you know, speaking hypothetically. Making an example."

"Oh." I settled back, relieved. Of course, Mr. Booth wasn't super wealthy. Wealthy people didn't marry blind strangers out of obligation. They probably had lawyers and prenups and all sorts of complicated things to protect their money.

Lakeside Heights turned out to be a mid-rise apartment building with what sounded like a pleasant fountain in the lobby. Parker guided me to the elevator and up to what he said was the fifteenth floor.

"Mrs. Bertish?" he called as we entered the apartment.

"Right here!" A warm, maternal voice responded. "You must be Dayna. I'm Suzanne Bertish, but please, just call me Suzanne."

Her hand clasped mine—soft, with the slight roughness of someone who worked with their hands. I liked her immediately.

"The apartment has three bedrooms," Suzanne explained as she led me inside. "The master suite is at the end of the hall. Then there are two guest bedrooms on either side."

"I'll take one of the guest rooms," I said quickly. "I don't want to disturb Mr. Booth's space."

"Are you sure, dear? As his wife—"

"I'm sure." The thought of sleeping in Mr. Booth's bedroom made my face burn. "Really."

Suzanne helped me change out of the pale blue dress and into a soft cotton nightgown. She guided me to the bed in what she said was the eastern guest room.

"You rest now," she said gently. "You've had quite a day."

I'd barely settled against the pillows when my new phone rang. The sudden noise made me jump.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell have you been?" Taissa's shriek nearly deafened me. "Do you have any idea what you've put us through? Disappearing in the middle of the night and not answering your phone—"

"My phone was broken—"

"I don't care about your excuses!" She was working herself into one of her rages. "You get yourself back to this house right now. Your husband's here to meet you today."

"What?"

"Nathan came by this morning," Taissa continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Such a nice man, and so patient with your situation. He's willing to take you on despite everything."

In the background, I heard Nathan's oily voice. "Is that my little bride? Tell her I can't wait to take care of her."

The way he said "take care of" made my skin crawl.

"I'm not coming back," I said, my voice shaking but firm. "And I'm not marrying him."

"You ungrateful little—"

"I'm already married." The words came out stronger than I felt. "Just this afternoon. So your plans for Nathan? They're not going to work."

I hung up before she could respond, my hands trembling so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

The tears came then, hot and bitter. I pressed my face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sobs. Everything hurt—my eyes, my heart, the place where a family's love should have been.

The phone rang again, and I hung up right away. But I wasn't relieved. What if she kept calling?

"Suzanne!" I called out, my voice cracking. "Suzanne, please!"

She appeared in the doorway. "What's wrong, dear?"

"My phone. There are some numbers I need blocked. My parents and my brother Aaron. Can you help me? Please?"

"Of course." She took the phone gently. "Have you been crying? Your eyes—"

"It's just the surgery," I lied, forcing brightness into my voice. "The doctor said they'd be sore for a while."

She didn't press. "I'll block those numbers for you. You rest now."

After she left, I lay there in the quiet, trying to calm my racing heart.

The phone rang again. Was Taissa telling Nathan to call me? But what if it was Mr. Booth?

"Hello?" I tried to sound stern, ready to tell Taissa to leave me alone.

"Dayna?"

Katie's familiar voice nearly made me cry again, but this time with relief. "Katie! God, it's so good to hear your voice."

"I've been trying to call you for two days! What happened? Are you okay?"

"It's a long story," I said, wiping at my eyes. "But I'm okay now. Better than okay, actually."

"I talked to the registrar's office about your situation," Katie said. "I explained about your eye injury and the surgery, but there's a problem."

My stomach sank. "What kind of problem?"

"They're willing to hold your spot and your scholarship, but they need a family member to come in and sign the deferral paperwork. It has to be done by the end of today, or they'll have to give your scholarship to someone else."

"A family member?" My mind raced. There was no way I was asking Maxtime or Taissa for help. They'd probably refuse just to spite me. "What about... what about a husband? Does a husband count as family?"

Silence.

"Katie?"

"Dayna," she said carefully. "When exactly did you get a husband?"