Page 39 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son
Oskar’s face drains of color.
“Have you seen the women that Dmitri has been with? And they married before dating? Too suspicious.”
Oskar’s hands tremble, and I hate it.
I clasp my hand over his. “Please do not insult my new husband in this manner,” I say, the word ‘husband’ strange on my tongue. “Of course, I married him because I wanted to marry him.”
“For a green card,” Vince mutters.
“Because the thought of not being with him was deeply upsetting. It, um, made me realize my feelings.” I fumble for words. Usually when a woman starts talking about feelings and the future, it’s my cue to leave. In fact, it’s a sign that I stayed with her way too long and that I was not sufficiently discerning when I chose her. I like party girls, not future and forever girls.
So yeah, this conversation is totally not my thing. If I don’t like talking about feelings with people when there is no audience, I really don’t like talking about feelings when I do have an audience, especially when saying the wrong thing can lead me to never being able to stay in the US again.
“This is ridiculous,” Vince huffs.
“Painful,” Coach adds.
I frown and turn to Daniela. Maybe I can convince her. Maybe she can convince them. Maybe.
I tighten my grip on Oskar’s hand, trying to ignore his sharp intake of breath, the way his eyes go wide. It’s just my hand. No big deal.
For a horrible moment, I think that maybe he’ll scramble from my grip. Maybe he’ll slide his chair away from me, because maybe the ten inches separating us is too narrow for the distance he craves. Maybe his face will whiten, and when he’ll speak it will be in short, terse tones that don’t sound like him, like he’s eager for me to leave his space as soon as possible and only social propriety is keeping him from flinging his glass of lemon-and-cucumber-infused water at me.
God, Coach is right. Vince is right.
I’ve caused a scandal, and I’ve dragged him right into it. Will his face be on newspaper articles under the words “visa fraud”?
Unless I can do something.
“I’m in love with Oskar, and, um...” I squeeze his hand.
He turns to me, drawing back slightly.
Maybe he’s thinking about future newspaper articles. Maybe he’s thinking about how every time people google his name in the future, they’ll see it attached to scandal.
Coach was gentle with that punch. I deserved worse.
I look into his eyes, and maybe he sees something, because he puffs out a sigh.
“That’s, um, right,” he says in his tenor voice, his gaze fixed on the notepad in front of me. “I fell in love.”
Coach gives a frustrated sigh. Oskar’s cheeks pinken.
“When Dmitri asked me to marry him, of course, I said yes,” he continues. “There could never be another answer. Dmitri is a wonderful person.”
“Well, plenty of people are wonderful and you don’t marry them,” Vince says. “This isn’t...”
I turn to him. “Are you sure? You don’t want me to give interviews and tell people about how I fell in love with Oskar?”
“The Blizzards does not need more publicity on this—” Coach says.
“Wait.” Vince frowns. “He’s right. It’s our best option.”
“Really?” Coach stares at Vince.
He gives an awkward shrug. “Yeah. This is the only path now for Dmitri to stay.”
Daniela nods multiple times. “Okay. Fine.”
