Rafe’s jaw ticks, his impatient gaze sliding to mine. “Do not start with this shit again, Virginia. Sign the damned paper.”
He holds my gaze and hands me the pen.
I look down at his name on the document. The errant thought crosses my mind that I love the way he signs the R of his first name—the two halves of the letter aren’t connected like they should be, they’re just existing together side-by-side, complementary pieces that couldn’t get the job done without the other. He also signed it Raphael Morelli. I’ve never seen him use his full first name before.
My husband, Raphael Morelli. I try it out in my mind. Virginia and Raphael Morelli.
Married. I’ll be married. To Rafe.
He handed me the pen in my right hand. He doesn’t even know I’m left-handed. I swallow, switching the pen to my other hand and try to convince myself to sign, but I can’t get my hand to lower the pen to the paper.
Forever is a long time.
Swallowing, I suddenly look up at him and meet his gaze. “Please don’t make me hate you.”
Out of patience, he grabs my hand and presses it to the paper. “Sign it,” he says tightly.
I glance up at the poor, bespectacled man with the briefcase and he appears supremely uncomfortable. Of course, I shouldn’t be signing these documents under duress, but given who the groom is, he’s not about to remind us of that fact.
Before I lose my nerve, I sign the damn paper and drop the pen, taking a step back and staring at the document.
Rafe nods once, then gestures for Laurel to come over. She’s holding Nicholas, patting his back, still looking uncertain. “I’d like to talk to Virginia first.”
“No,” Rafe says simply.
Clearing his throat, the man I assume is either an officiant or Rafe’s lawyer points to the line where Laurel needs to sign as a witness.
Laurel doesn’t touch the pen. She looks back at Sin, then takes a step in his direction like she’s going to talk to him, but Rafe cuts her off.
“Sign as a witness or I’ll have Sin do it. His signature doesn’t come with conditions.”
Since I know I’m the reason she is hesitating, I tell her, “It’s fine, Laurel. I already signed. Go ahead.”
Glaring mildly at Rafe, then raking a concerned glance over me, Laurel heaves a sigh, but ultimately grabs the pen and signs her name.
With that, it’s done. The man slides the signed document back into his briefcase, and I look at Rafe, unsettled to see a gleam of satisfaction in his dark eyes. He steps away from me to retrieve something from a table beside the chair he must have been sitting in while he waited for me. It’s an old-looking box, made of wood, but gold plated with ornate, decorative carvings. There’s a picture on the lid, some kind of painting. Perhaps Renaissance?
“What’s that?” I inquire, peeking at it, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“The Marriage of the Virgin by Raphael,” Rafe answers. “It’s a ring box,” he further explains. “My mother’s old jewelry box from when she married my father.”
He cracks it open and draws out two simple gold bands. There’s a smaller ring box nestled inside. He sees me looking at it, so he cracks it open to show me a large amethyst stone set in a thick gold band.
“That was my mother’s engagement ring,” he explains. “You can have it, but it’s a bit gaudy for its purpose nowadays. As a cocktail ring or for a night out it would be okay, but I figured we’ll just use the wedding bands.”
I nod my head. “We skipped over the engagement, so we might as well.”
He pulls the last treasure out of the box, a sparkling pair of drop earrings, dripping with diamonds. “These were my grandmother’s, passed down to my mother upon her marriage to my father. They’re yours now. Would you like to wear them for the ceremony?”
I shake my head no and hold onto my bouquet with both hands.
Slipping my inherited jewels back into the box, he closes the lid and hands it off to Laurel behind me. She turns and tucks the box inside the Victoria’s Secret bag containing my wedding present, then turns back to watch us, absently patting Nicky’s diapered bottom and swaying to keep him quiet.
“When you’re ready, we’ll begin,” the man informs us with a thin smile.
Sin moves over to stand behind Rafe, and Laurel moves into place behind me. I turn to face Rafe, but I’m number than I expect to be. I know I don’t want to be here right now, not like this, but some part of me should still be able to muster enthusiasm that it’s him I’m promising forever to.
I can’t, though. Marlena flashes to mind for the first time in ages. I rarely think about the women Rafe has liked before, and if I’m going to think about a dead one, it’s usually Cassandra, but I can’t shake Marlena right now. She was dull and dim, and I assured Laurel he wouldn’t have cheated on her, but that was partially to protect them both.