Marriage by Law (49 page)

"We need to talk."

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p' and watching his face turned into a look of pure confusion.

“What?"

And then I realised this was Darius I was talking to, a man who got no sense of humour. I sighed dramatically. "Yes, we can talk." It was not like we weren't doing that before. Attempt at a joke, and failed. Maybe I should just keep the jokes to myself and maybe Rose and Adrian every now and then.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, suddenly feeling the warm breeze go cold. I wrapped my arms around my waist, shifting to my other foot, looking on as he seemed to be thinking. Was everything ok? Did someone get hurt?

Oh god, tell me my mum got hurt. Suddenly this night seemed brighter. Sure, that just made me an ungrateful child, but she was a bitch to grow up with. Hell, I just wish that if I became a mother and have my own children, I wouldn’t turn out like her. 

Or maybe it was more serious, maybe someone was dying. That was a possible reason for someone to look pale and scared.

"No, no problem." He cleared his throat, as if to prepare himself to what he was about to say, bringing me out of my mini moment.

"Then?" 

I looked at the files he was holding in his hand. This had something to do with work, business, whatever he did behind his computer screen. And then it hit me. Could it be about James? Was he suing us for not going through with the business?

I haven't heard Darius or Adrian mention his name after...what happened. Could it be connected? That must be why he looked so nervous and, dare I say it, slightly pale? Or maybe it was his turn to come down with something. Too bad I wasn't as muscular as Margaret to put him to bed.

I decided, since neither of us was getting anywhere, to ask straight to the point. Darius sort of lacked those skills, it seemed. How he conducted his business meetings beats me.

"It's James, isn't it? Yes, I know."

His eyebrows furrowed. "What?" 

"It's okay. I'm pretty sure that after what you did to him, he won't be bothering us." I waved my hand and took a step closer to close the distance between us.

I continued. "Plus, I know a good lawyer if you want. Remember Jeremy whom we met the day I had to wear the cupcake dress? Bad day; never mention again. But yes, his father is a lawyer. A really good one."

Darius just gave me a blank stare,  as though I spoke in another language he couldn’t understand. I wasn't sure if it was because I was rattling and he didn't catch a word or because he had no idea what I was talking about.

"This isn't about James," he finally said.

Oh, probably the latter. No idea what I was talking about. 

"Then what?"

Maybe I sounded a bit cranky but he was beating around the bush and I was standing out in the cold two to midnight freezing my ass off, when I really should be in bed.

He looked down and took my hands in his and I raised an eyebrow. Is he okay? Was he dying? What was this, midnight confession night? Might as well be, but at least his hands were warm.

"I need to ask you something." He looked so absolutely serious that he had my undivided attention.

You just did. Okay, maybe not ask since he didn't phrase that as a question. It was more like a demand. 

"Okay?"

So it was asking, not confessing. Okay, it was a good thing he wasn't dying. A really good thing. A bad thing that none of our parents was dying. Adrian was alive and I assume Rose was also, so no funerals. That's always a plus.

And if it wasn't about James, so why the hell was he looking so, so, non-Darius? 

"Is this about that folder? What's in the folder?"

He held up the folder. "Work?"

I rolled my eyes. Does he ever walk around with something else other than work? "That's what you went to pick up, work?"

And, for the first time, I watched as Darius stuttered. "No! It's… Well, I…"

"Darius, just as –"

"Marry me."

What?

If my whole body, minus my hands, weren’t cold already, what Darius said pretty much frozen my whole body as I stared at him. Did I just hear what he said? And it seemed so as his green eyes just stared at me, a stare that made me feel violated, not that I minded being violated by someone –

Snap out of it. He asked me a question and it seemed like I took an awful long time to reply since he cleared his throat again. Oh right, I need to speak, not think. He can't read my thought. Or can he? ‘Cause some peop –

No answer.

"Aren't we already married?" Great, just ruin the mood, Ivory. You do that. But it was cold, my brain wasn't working, and Darius should know this.

"Well...yes," said Darius, knotting up his eyebrows. Wait, did he just ask me to marry him?

Was this meant to be a proposal? 

This meant Darius asking me to marry him even though we were already married, and that brought an amused smile on my face. 

He opened his mouth and closed it again, resembling too much an adorable goldfish. My, my, was this the great businessman looking unraveled?

"Yes, Darius?" I asked, feeling joyful that he ran out of words. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before reaching to grab mine again. Man, I should record this.

"I want you to marry me because you want to, not because we were forced to, so marry me."

What happened to being able to choose? Because the way he said it sounded like a judge giving out orders. I knew the answer, and I was sure he knew what I should say after I told him I loved him earlier, so it was fun to mess around with him. Have the upper hand and watch him squirm.

I tugged on his hands, pulling him closer and looking up. “Are you going to
 
ask
 
me?”

It was a question, not a demand.

“Marry me?” he said, still sounding commanding, but with a hint of doubt.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a question, Dairy. You’re meant to proclaim your love to me, get on one knee, and then ask me,” …And then pop out a ring. But I left that part out. I couldn’t possibly ask him to whip a ring out of thin air and I would let him go even if he didn’t proclaim his love for me. I did. One confession was enough for tonight.

“One knee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded.

“A question?”

If I hadn’t known the look on his face better, I would have thought he was being serious. But the guy knew what he was playing at. With that amused crinkle at the side of his mouth, I knew he was playing me.

I narrowed my eyes. “Yes.” That’s what I wanted. Can’t a girl get a proper proposal? Not one where he demanded her to get married, just like what the contract stated. No, if he wanted me to marry him on my own will, he had to ask me properly, even without the ring.

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Oh gosh, don’t you watch movies? Oh wait, you’re a hermit here,” I said, looking around.  Was the ground wet?

In my attempt to show him how it’s done, I got down on one knee, suddenly feeling even shorter than I usually was. I looked around and grabbed a fully blossomed orchid that would do for the ring.

“Okay, this is how you are supposed to ask a person to marry you. Pay attention. Do you want a pen to take notes?”

Darius had his arms crossed, and waved one, gesturing for me to continue. Alright then, he doesn’t need notes.

I cleared my throat. “’Oh Ivory, oh Ivory’… You need to use proper names for a proposal, no stupid nickname. ‘You’re like the rose to my thorns, pen to my paper, ink to my sharpie, glue to my glitter, burning gas to my photons, and I proclaim my everlasting love to you, as I cannot breathe the air without you as it is toxic. Will you marry me?’” I asked, holding out the flower which I pretended was a massive blue ring.

“Yes, I think I will.” Darius bent down and plucked the flower from between my fingers and twirled it around his hand.

“What?”

“Nice flower,” he said and turned around and I just stared at his retreating figure before jumping up. What just happened?

He turned around as I followed him. “What?” I asked.

“You just asked me to marry you, so I said yes. And by the way, it’s thorn to my rose, not rose to my thorns. Your dad always said you got your sayings wrong, and he was right.”

My jaw dropped as I realised what just happened. “He didn’t know how to do that” my ass, this was like “I don’t know how to fight”. He played me and he played me well.

“But you’re meant to ask me!”

“That’s a bit sexist.”

“No. You want to marry me so you ask me, not the other way around.”

“Ouch.”

“You know what I mean.”

Darius smiled with a shrug before turning to face me fully. “It’s okay, I accept. And remember to tell our children that it was you who asked me.”

Was he being serious? And with that, he turned around walking off, leaving me standing and staring at his retreating figure.

But I proposed to myself. Does that mean I would be marrying myself? I scoffed, turning around and closing the back door. Well, at least I would be married to someone awesome, me.

Closing the blinds, I slowly walked up the stairs, deep in thought. At least I know I would honour the “death do us part”. If I was married to myself, then I die when I die.

I nudged our door open to see the mess Adrian left. Nope, not dealing with that. Guest bedroom it was.

Darius, whom I did
 
not
 
propose to, can clean up after his cousin, whom he should marry.

I opened the guest bedroom, shutting the door and walking to the bedroom. I could have switched on the light but that would be a waste of electricity. But it would have saved my heart from nearly having a heart attack when something grabbed me and spun me around.

Before I could scream, I smelled the cologne.

“Marry me.”

“You’re not going to ask me, are you?”

“Marry me.”

“Not even one knee?”

“Marry me.”

 “Fine.”

“Good, ‘cause then this would be a waste.”

I felt something cold slip onto my finger and looked down to see something shine. A girl can dream about a wedding or even a proposal, but I had my dream ring.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

12 months ago

There were many ways I could get my sorry arse out of here. I could jump straight through the window, or maybe I could literally get up and walk out of the church without anyone stopping me. But did I want to? 

Yes, of course I did.

Did I have the courage to do that?

No.

It was partially due to the woman fixing my hair and making a fuss, the woman who gave birth to me and called herself my mother. 

I glared at the mirror as she tightened the dress. Was I even meant to breath in this?

"I told you to watch what you eat. Now look at you. Too fat and this dress won't close."

I rolled my eyes, sighing. "I told you, starving me won't make me skinnier. It'll actually make a person gain weight."

I wasn’t even fat, was I? I stared at the mirror that was showing my reflection. Nope. 

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

My eyes widened as I met her eyes in the mirror. "Mother! Of course not." 

Trust her to think you were pregnant just because of water weight. She pulled on the dress tighter and muttered to herself. 

"You shouldn't have ordered a dress two sizes too small, thinking I would lose that much weight. I have bones, you know? Bones don't shrink."

"Don't talk back. What is this!"

I grunted as she poked my neck and I looked over my shoulder. "That’s when your stupid stylist burnt me with her curler iron?"

"Stand still!" she scolded, finally pulling up the zipper of the most hideous wedding dress I had ever seen.

"I am still." It wasn't like I could move in this tight dress anyway. It has a sweetheart neckline with an embroidered bodice, which meant it kept pulling strands of my hair out. It had delicate lace straps and the bottom was like a ball gown, puffy. Well, the dress wasn't that bad, I guess.

Just really tight. 

I watched as she placed my hair in a horrible bun, putting too many clips in. God, that looked terrible. Was I growing a pineapple tree on top of my head?

What was the point of curling my hair if you can’t even see it now?

She placed the veil on.

"I can't see."

"Good, then he can't see your face. That might make him change his mind."

Ouch. 

I could barely make out what was in front of me in this thick veil. I reached forward and lifted it up. I could put it on when I got there. I had to walk without tripping over.

"I told you to do your eyebrows. What is this disaster?"

She came toward me with tweezers and I leaned back, or tried, but the dress was very restrictive.

"Your eyebrow woman did mine," I snapped as she grabbed my face, trying to pluck more out. God, did she even want me to have them or was she going to paint them on like in the stupid fairy tales?

"You remember our deal, yes?"

I gritted my teeth as I felt my poor eyebrows being plucked out. Damn it, they were thin enough already. 

"If something goes wrong, you can say goodbye to your father."

I glared at her as she smiled, putting the tweezers down and admiring her handy work. "Good, now I'll come and get you when we are ready."

I watched her leave and Rose walked in. She had been waiting outside, saying she refused to wait in the room with my mother in it. I would, too.

"What the hell did you do to your face?"

"Her make-up skills," I said as I tried sitting down on the stool. Oh god, the dress was going to pop. I leaned forward, holding the table for support as I lowered myself down. Ah, that felt the same.

Even sitting down, the dress just seemed tighter. But my legs hurt in the pathetic painful heels she made me wear. 

"Alright," said Rose, coming at me with her makeup kit and a baby wipe, trying to get as much make up as possible off my face. "There is a car at the side of the church. Just tell me when and I'll get you out of here."

I smiled, shaking my head. "I can't," I whispered and closed my eyes as she did whatever she was doing.

"Ivory, you can. You can leave this terrible place and never come back. We can go to another country if you want. We can go to Alaska and stay with –"

"Rose, no."

She huffed but said nothing more.

I couldn't leave. I knew what that would do to my dad. He had a weak heart, if anything extremely upset him, he might have a heart attack and I would be the murderer. And if me running away wouldn’t set that off, the loss of his company would. 

He had put everything into that company: money, time, tears, love and having the one thing that made him happy. I couldn't take that away from him.

"Is this to get back at James? I know he said you won't find a better man than him and if you're trying to - "

"Rose, I don't even read his texts," I said, swatting her hand away as she tried putting lipstick on my lips. I looked at my reflection. Well, it was better than the hot pink eye shadow mother put on me. Rose had done a natural look.

"Well, I did. "

I rolled my eyes. "Help me up. I can't breathe and now I need to pee."

I ignored her smile as she lifted me up.

"Are you going to be able to pee in that dress?"

"No, I can hold it in," I said, pulling the veil over my face. "How do I look?"

"Great, if I can see you."

I smiled, shaking my head at her. "Okay, let's do it."

"But your mothers not here y-"

"No, let's do
 it
." 

"Oh," she said, grabbing a note from her purse and slamming it on the dresser. It was something we always did, place bets. 

"I bet he is so old he needs to use a wheelchair, is crippled and drools when he talks."

I shuddered in disgust. "That's very comforting."

I opened the drawer, taking out a fifty and placing it on hers. "I think he's old, has a pot belly, grey hair everywhere and well, that's all I have."

She laughed, grabbing my arm and throwing her arms around me. "It's okay. Just make yourself so undesirable that he divorces you. I mean, it's not your fault if he divorces you, right?"

I scoffed. "It's always my fault. Have you met my mother?"

Before she could reply, the door opened and the devil herself walked in, fixing her hair in her tight pink dress. God, she looked terrible.

"Let's go, girls. Rose, step away from her please. I don't want you touching her and leaving marks on the dress. Veil on, Ivory. We don't have all day. He needs to catch a flight."

I rolled my eyes as I lifted my hands as high as I could and pulled the veil back on. 

Time to get this over with.

The ceremony was hardly a ceremony. There were my parents, Rose, what looked to be his parents, two other parents from his side, and then the priest.

I took deep breaths as I stood at the makeshift altar, which was more of a desk with papers on it and the priest standing beside it. I bet he has never had a wedding like this before.

Breathe, Ivory. You have to sign it before you faint. I was close to losing all feeling down my bottom half. This dress was too tight. Oxygen. I needed oxygen.

The priest began. "We have gathered here to –"

"Father, just go to the ‘I do’. My son has a plane to catch."

I winced at the high-pitched voice. Alright, so I guess my mother-in-law was no different than my own mother. Great, luck was really on my side.

I watched the father as he looked back and forth before his assistant whispered something to him.

"Of course," he said, clearing his throat and flipping to the back of his book.

"Do you, Darius Quartz, take Ivor -"

"He does."

Was that my mother?

"Mrs. Hiddleberg, he must say it."

I bit my lip, stopping the laugh that came out. Impatient mother, why don't you marry him?

At least I knew I had won the bet. He was standing next to me, not in a wheelchair, and that was all my veil permitted to see. I looked at the door to the side. I could still leave. Rose still had the car outside.

"I do," I heard a deep voice mutter and my heart thudded. I could still go. Do, it Ivory. Who cares what happened to your father?

Just go, he will understand.

"Do you, Ivory Hiddleberg, take this man, Darius Quartz, to be your lawfully wed -"

But I couldn't. The only parent I really had was my father, sneaking me out to live life. Even if I have to marry this man for the rest of my life, I'd do it just to see my father smile at me.

"Ivory, say it!"

What?

I looked at Rose through the corner of the veil, the only part where I could see through and she was staring at me with a pointed look, mouthing "say it" with wide eyes.

Did he finish asking me?

I looked at the priest who was staring at me. "Oh yea," I said, nodding my head. "I mean, I do."

He nodded before closing his book and pushing two sheets toward us, both with a black Parker pen with gold engraving on the side.

"Sign this, please. This is the agreement that binds your wedding together."

I swallowed before picking up the pen and scribbling my signature down. This was really happening. I could see spots in my vision. I wasn't sure if it was because I was finally married, or because the dress was too tight. I went with the dress being too tight.

"Rings, please."

Two kids came running up with rings and I squeezed my eyes. Nearly over. You can breathe once the wedding is over.

"Take the ring." 

Oh, right.

I grabbed the gold band from the kid who was peering up at me and smiled at her. Not like she could see me anyway.

"By placing these rings on each other, you are proclaiming your love and that you will be together till death do you part."

I scoffed quietly. What love?

"Hold out your hand," whispered Rose beside me. Oh right, hand. I lifted my shaking hand. Why was I so damn nervous?

I felt his hand grasp my fingertips before something cold and a bit tight slip on. Did my mother really think that you can lose weight in your fingers?

My fingers were already skinny enough. I could see the stone through the corner of my veil and grimaced. God, why did it look so extravagant? 

I looked at his outstretched hand and squinted. Okay, now, Ivory, grab the hand, not air.