Chapter Text
Adrenaline. Fury. Cold rage curled along every inch of his spine, pulsating each vertebra until he was vibrating with it. A muscle in his jaw twitched, an animal savagery threatening to escape the contained visage of the man. Even as he stalked to the stairwell and rushed down three flights of stairs, his brain stuttered to reconcile the information he’d just been given over the phone. But his instincts? Oh, his instincts were insatiably ablaze. The man who had dared put hands on his wife? His sweet, beautiful, gentle wife? That piece of shit was going to pay for his transgressions. One way or another, the pitiful excuse for a human was going to hurt.
Several Months Earlier
Emma stared out the window, taking in the clear, snowy beauty that was Michigan blanketed in a foot of snow. It was perfect for the upcoming winter wedding. She felt like weeping, and hoped her face was somehow managing to evince a cheerful demeanor which belied the state of her disarrayed, panicked mind. The letter she’d received a few days ago weighed heavily.
But her oldest brother was getting married and nothing should dampen their joy. Especially not since her parents… It was all still so acutely painful. This wedding was supposed to be the first time they were going to celebrate as a family. Titus had been their rock after the accident. Their oldest brother had made sure Emma and Boaz and Moses weren’t alone in their grief. He’d taken care of them. And now that he was marrying his wonderful fiancée, Emma was truly, deeply happy for him. Titus deserved good things. He deserved to have this time without bad news souring it.
She unobtrusively excused herself to go to the bathroom, then quietly let herself into the sunroom of the Airbnb. She just needed a minute. A break to regroup and compose herself. Plopping herself on the comfortable sofa, Emma looked up through the skylight and let herself feel.
I miss you both so much, she thought. I hate it that you’re both gone. I’m trying to be strong, but I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do.
Her face was wet.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in here, lost in her thoughts when she heard the click of the door opening. Brendon. Titus’s best friend and roommate from years ago. She didn’t know him very well, but he had always been respectful to her, and since Ty liked him, he was obviously a decent person.
He was disconcertingly large. ‘Deliciously masculine’, the errant thought flickered through her mind, a thought Emma assiduously suppressed. She didn’t want the mental awkwardness of thinking thoughts like that around her older brother’s best friend.
“Mind if I join you?” He asked. “Your brothers headed out to get some wings and ice cream.”
Emma shook her head. “Feel free” she murmured.
“You’ve been crying” he said matter of factly as he settled into the opposite side of the sofa.
Emma quickly wiped away her tears and nodded. “I’m fine” she attempted a smile. “Just…some stuff going on.” she admitted.
“Tell me about it.” he said. And he waited expectantly. As if he were interested in her problems. As if he had all the time in the world to listen to his friend’s little sister spill her guts.
And suddenly, Emma wanted to tell him. She felt compelled to get it off her chest and in that moment, he was a safe refuge she had no capacity to refuse.
She took a deep breath.
“Three days ago I got notified that my legal status isn’t so legal any more and I’m in danger of being deported.” she let out quickly.
His eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything, encouraging her to continue on.
“It’s kind of complicated but basically my parents had me while our family was living overseas.” she explained. “The guys had already been born here, so they’re fine, but neither of my parents had green cards at the time. I was only two when we moved back and I’ve been here ever since I can remember. I was going to be able to get a greencard soon, but then when my parents died, that fell through and I got this notification, and with Ty getting married it was just the worst timing ever and I’m really scared and I have no idea what to do.” she finished.
“Damn.” he said quietly. “That’s a lot.”
She nodded. “I’ve been freaking out but I’m trying not to ruin the wedding. Please don’t tell my brothers - I’ll talk to them after.”
Brendon gave her an assessing look, his eyes sharp. “Have you spoken to an immigration lawyer?”
She shook her head. “I know I need to talk to somebody but I haven’t been able to get time to figure that out yet with everything that’s going on.”
He looked at her like he was mentally solving a calculus equation. Then, “We’re going to talk to a lawyer tomorrow morning.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “No, no you don’t have to do that. I wasn’t trying to- I was just venting- I didn’t mean to have you take it upon yourself to try to fix my problems.” she looked at him, appealing; he was only supposed to be a sympathetic ear.
His eyes seemed to harden infinitesimally. “Let me do this.” An order, not a request. “You need to get this figured out quickly. My buddy’s wife is a lawyer and she’ll be able to refer us to an expert.”
Emma did not have a bit of shame at how quickly she grasped the lifeline he insisted on throwing, even more firmly, the second time. If he was offering to help her figure out this awful situation, well, she wasn’t in a position to refuse.
Fresh tears welled up but she gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you. For everything. For listening, for helping. I- thank you.” She finished lamely.
He gave a perfunctory nod as he handed her his phone. “Give me your number. I’ll text you when I get something set up.”
:-:-:-:
As she lay in bed later that night, she reflected on Brendon’s intervention. She knew that his behavior was probably what most would consider overbearing. High-handed. But a small part of her reveled in his casually dictatorial display. It quieted her frenetic mind; soothed her aching heart; whispered safety to her agitated instincts. ‘It’s going to be okay.’ She thought as she finally drifted off to sleep.
:-:-:-:
Since the wedding started early evening, they thankfully were able to FaceTime the recommended immigration attorney who conveniently owed Brendon’s friend’s lawyer wife a favor.
A thick New York accent came through the speaker as the grizzled, middle-aged man started speaking on the screen. “So you need a greencard and you were sent this notification - yes I have it in front of me. Hmm… messy business.” The lawyer flipped through some papers in front of him. “You know, the easiest thing for you to do would be to just get married.”
Emma reacted first. “Excuse me sir, I didn’t catch that, could you please repeat that?” She asked, slightly alarmed, but certain she’d misheard.
“Well, you’re in a relationship, and you want to get married eventually, right?” He clarified.
“No we’re not-” Emma started, but quickly stopped when Brendon squeezed her hand and subtly shook his head.
“We weren’t thinking of marriage right now, but can you explain why this would help Emma?” Brendon asked smoothly.
Emma shot him an incredulous look, but kept quiet, wanting to see where he was going with this.
“Well it makes everything so much simpler for you two to get married. That way we can just submit the I-485 form, we’ll make sure to dot all the Is, cross all the Ts and you’ll get your permit to work and your greencard.” he finished.
Emma glanced at Brendon again and then asked, “What are my other options?”
“Not very good options unfortunately. You’re going to have to go back to Guadalupe and apply through the consulate. It could take years and with the way things are with immigration right now, there aren’t any guarantees.”
Emma’s face fell and she tried to breathe deeply.
“So what’s the plan if we get married? Submit some forms and then she gets her greencard?” Brendon queried.
“Get married, the sooner the better, and I can take care of all the paperwork for you. If you fill in anything incorrectly, it’s going to delay everything for months, so I always strongly advise my clients to let us take care of the forms. And please for the love of God, don’t do anything stupid.” He rattled on, “I’ve had clients ignore my warnings and it’s not pretty. You wouldn’t believe this one Swedish girl who came back into the country on a visitor visa with her wedding dress in a bag. Her wedding dress! And she lied. That was a tough one.”
Emma confusedly nodded along.
“So how do we make sure that doesn’t happen with Emma?” Brendon cut in, deftly steering the conversation back to the point.
“Don’t be stupid. Don’t put anything in text or email about this. Never put anything on social media that could be used as evidence against your case. Make sure you take a lot of pictures with each other and with your families, that will be important for the interview. Have a bank account with both your names on it, make sure you’re living at the same address. In the greencard interview, you might be questioned separately to determine if you have a genuine marriage. How you fell in love, who sleeps on what side of the bed, that kind of thing. You’ll be fine as long as you keep it straight. If they see any inconsistencies they might pop in for an unannounced home visit.”
As Brendon kept on pressing the lawyer with questions on what exactly getting the greencard entailed, Emma’s mind was spinning. What on earth was he doing, playing along and pretending they were considering marriage as a solution?
After the call ended, Emma turned her full attention on Brendon and narrowed her eyes. “Explain.”
He stood up and walked over to the window, looking out briefly and then turning to face her, his expression carefully blank.
“My mother has late stage cancer. Prognosis isn’t good.”
She stood and placed a hand on his arm in a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry Brendon, I had no idea!” she murmured looking up at him, face twisting in sympathy.
He nodded. “Even though I’ve hired a home aid for her, it’s not enough.” He paused and then, “I think we should get married.”
She stepped back reflexively. Even though she had sensed it coming, she was speechless. Without words. Completely stripped of all verbosity.
She finally managed, “Are you crazy?” in a slightly hysterical tone.
“I’m dead serious.” he countered. “Let’s marry platonically. We get you a greencard, and I get help looking after my mother.” He finished.
“But- but- how would that even work? You heard the lawyer! We’d have to actually be married! With joint bank accounts and a side of the bed and all the things!” she sputtered, her voice climbing shrilly.
“We’ll be roommates.” He responded calmly. “You move into my condo in Pittsburg - you can have the spare room. I heard you tell your brother you wanted to look outside of Michigan for a nursing job. When you get your papers you can work at my hospital or wherever you want. And in the meantime, I’d like to have someone kind and competent who can help my mom.”
She brushed aside the compliments. “Of course I’d love to help with your mom but you’re just going to lie to her?”
“No, I won’t lie, I’m just not going to tell her everything. I don’t know how long she has, and for years she’s been not very subtly begging me to get married and give her grandchildren. You can help me give her a little hope, a little happiness before she…” he clenched his jaw and didn’t finish.
Before she dies.
Emma was beyond torn. This would make it all so much easier. She wouldn’t have to worry. And yet, playacting marriage? It seemed... sacrilegious.
“And what about my brothers?” she challenged. “What would we, theoretically, hypothetically tell them if we do this?”
“The truth. You know, so I don’t get castrated for coming on to their pretty, off-limits little sister.” he remarked dryly.
She flushed at “pretty”, then berated herself because of course he didn’t mean anything by it.
She cleared her throat.
“Are you sure? Like really really sure?” she probed. “This is technically fraud and we could both get in real trouble.” she gulped, not wanting to think of what could happen.
“Yes. And you can’t think of it that way. We’re not doing anything wrong. You having to deal with this bullshit in the first place is wrong and now we’re making it right.” he insisted.
She closed her eyes.
“Okay.” she hesitated. “But if we do this, we’ve got to set boundaries. Expectations. Rules.”
“Agreed.” he affirmed.
“So… what now?”
“Now you enjoy your brother’s wedding without worrying. After that, we’ll make a plan.”
There was that decisiveness, that cool self-assuredness again; it flowed over her like a balm.
She felt lighter, safer than she had in so long.
Maybe… maybe everything would be okay.