Page 103 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
My chest constricted.Wife.Child. The words he'd never said with such fierce protectiveness before. Even through my humiliation, warmth spread through me at the absolute certainty in his voice. It brought tears to my eyes, and I leaned into the crook of his arm to rest my head on his shoulder. This was where I belonged. I knew it in my heart that no matter what happened, I was home here in Harrison's arms.
The judge cleared his throat. "Mrs. Vale, are you feeling well enough to continue?"
I looked up at him, mortified beyond words. "I'm so sorry, Your Honor. The morning sickness has made me quite ill lately. Could we possibly have a brief recess?"
"Granted."
As people filed out, the judge approached our table. He waited until both of Harrison's sisters were out the door before he asked, "How far along are you?"
"I, uh…" I glanced at Harrison. I honestly had no clue, but it couldn’t be more than six or seven weeks.
"We haven't been to the obstetrician yet," Harrison said, but he was looking at me, doting on me.
"Did you plan this, or is it a surprise?" the judge asked, and I looked up to see a sparkle in his eye. He wasn't grilling us. He was taking interest.
My hand rested on my still-queasy stomach as I said, "Not really…" I chuckled a little and sighed. "It just sort of happened."
"But we couldn't be happier," Harrison added, still staring at me with wonder in his eyes.
"Mrs. Vale, in your opinion, is your marriage to Harrison Vale genuine?"
The question should have been easy. But sitting there, humiliated and sick, with the taste of bile still in my mouth and his sisters' disgust echoing in my ears, I felt overwhelmed.
The quiet mornings when he brought me tea. The way he'd learned to braid Eloise's hair when I was too nauseous to move. How he'd held me the night my mother cried about being a burden. The way he looked at me now, not with pity but with absolute conviction that I belonged here.
"Yes," I said, and my voice didn't quaver. "Completely genuine." And when I looked at Harrison, I could see his eyes brimming with emotion.
"Thank you," the judge said, and he gathered his papers and left the room. It grew very quiet then, with just the two of us.
Harrison knelt beside my chair, his hand covering mine. "How are you feeling?"
"Awful." I closed my eyes, leaning back in the chair. "I think I just ruined everything."
"You didn't ruin anything."
"I threw up in front of the judge, Harrison. In the middle of being questioned about whether our marriage is fake." Tears stung my eyes. "They're going to think it was all nerves and that I’m faking it."
"They're going to think you're pregnant and sick, which is exactly what you are."
I shook my head. "I should have held it together."
"You are strong." His thumb brushed across my knuckles. "You answered every question honestly and calmly, even when they were trying to tear you apart."
"And then I fell apart anyway."
"You got morning sickness. There's a difference."
I opened my eyes and looked at him. His jaw was tight with anger, but his eyes were gentle when they met mine. "Do you think he believed me? When I said the marriage was genuine?"
"I think he saw a woman who's exhausted and pregnant and being attacked by lawyers, and who still managed to tell the truth."
"But what if?—"
"No what-ifs." He squeezed my hand. "We've done everything we can. The rest is up to the judge."
I nodded, but the fear in my chest didn't ease. As we sat in the empty conference room, waiting for the deposition to resume, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just handed his sisters exactly what they needed to destroy us.
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