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“Jack?” Her lilting voice pulls me from my wandering thoughts, and I realize that I missed my line.
“I do,” I rush out. The worry crease on her forehead smoothes out and her shoulders relax.
“Good, good,” Judge Karplin says with a nod. “And do you, Nora Grace Evans, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
I find myself holding my breath as I wait for her answer, as if her yes has any actual meaning.
It doesn’t, I remind my wayward heart.
“I do,” Nora murmurs and something long broken inside me starts to mend.
“Repeat after me,” Judge Karplin instructs. “I, Jack, take thee Nora to be my wife.”
I open my mouth to say the words but nothing comes out. There’s a lump in my throat I can’t seem to work around.
“Oh look at him getting all choked up,” I hear Emily whisper.
“If only he’d invited Anderson,” Lucy whispers back. “Seems like he could use one of his legendary knock-knock jokes right about now.”
A laugh bubbles up inside me, saving me from the emotion building in my chest. I send Lucy a silent thank you as I manage to repeat the sacred words. “I, Jack, take thee Nora to be my wife.”
Dang it. The emotion is back. The lump larger than before. It’s so unexpected that I don’t know how to control it. The last time I cried was when my mom died and—mercifully—those tears were shed in the privacy of my own home.
“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health,” Judge Karplin intones, as if this promise is no big deal.
But I know better. These words mean something to me, and as I hoarsely repeat them the promise takes root in my heart. Nora is staring up at me, but the buildup of tears behind my eyes blurs her face so that I can’t make out her expression. I can imagine it, though. She’s almost certainly alarmed by my display of emotion.
“To love and to cherish till death do us part,” Judge Karplin concludes.
“To love and to cherish till death do us part,” I choke out. I’ve been bluffing since Nora showed up at my door last night, but now it feels as if I’ve played all of my cards. There’s no way she doesn’t know I’m still in love with her now.
And if she knows that, will she still marry me? Or is running away to Antigua starting to look like the more attractive option?
“Your turn, Nora.” Judge Karplin turns to her and I deliberately focus on her feet instead of her face. No need for me to watch her reject me—or worse, deliver the words without the passion they warrant.
It’s unfortunate that her feet are so cute. Pink-painted toes peek out of the strappy pair of wedges I grabbed from her shoe shelf last night. Memories of playing footsie with those cute feet every chance I got crowd my thoughts, so I move my gaze off her feet and up her legs.
This helps me in no way.
Apparently there is no part of this woman that is safe for me to look at.
“I, Nora, take thee Jack to be my husband,” Judge Karplin supplies her with the words. I shut my eyes, preparing myself for the worst.
“I, Nora,” she begins, then stops. I pop one eye open. Here we go. “Jack,” she pulls one hand free from mine and reaches up to take hold of my chin, “will you please look at me?”
In spite of my resolve to appear unaffected, I do as she says. Her green eyes hold me completely captive as she finishes the words. “Take thee Jack, to be my husband.”
Judge Karplin continues to deliver the requisite monologue, and Nora must repeat it, but I don’t hear another word.
My husband. I’m her husband.
And it’s fake! I tell myself sternly. Repeating the word for good measure: Fake.
But darn it, I want it to be real.
And gosh darn it, for a second there it seemed like maybe it was.
But I’ve seen enough over-the-top performances in my line of work to know when I’m being played. And although I know Nora is acting infatuated for the benefit of our audience rather than to actively deceive me, that doesn’t make the reality of her indifference any less painful.
