Chapter 33
Caden
A persistent ringing rattled my brain, and I reached for my phone to turn off the alarm I didn't remember setting. The ringing didn't stop. In my sleep-deprived state, I finally figured out it wasn't my alarm, it was the doorbell. Who the fuck comes to someone's house at the crack of dawn. I'd gotten next to no sleep and wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone.
The sofa was at least a foot too small for me, and more than once during the night I'd fallen off and woken up on the floor. Sometime in the wee hours, the fire had died, and a biting chill filled the sitting room and my bones. We'd have to fix the pipes sooner rather than later.
The doorbell rang again. Dressed in flannel pajamas and wearing her glasses, Lizzie ran downstairs and flung open the door.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a rush of words. "Is it my dad? Is he okay?"
"Mrs. Gallagher, I'm Doris Flynn from USCIS. The U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. Can I come in?"
"Please, yes. Come in."
Shit. Crap. Fuck.
I'd read about dawn visits, but I didn't think we'd have to worry about one, but I also didn't think we'd get interrogated at the airport either. I scrambled to my feet and balled up the blanket and pillow, looking for a place to hide them.
"This must be Mr. Gallagher," the woman's shrill voice said as she walked into the sitting room. Her inquisitive eyes landed on the pillow and blanket in my hand. "Do you make a habit of sleeping on the sofa, Mr. Gallagher?"
Lizzie smiled, but it was tight and forced. "Ms. Flynn, I'll be honest, we had a fight last night, and I asked Caden to sleep on the sofa. He said some insulting things about my dad and I didn't want him in my bed."
"It's Mrs. Flynn, but call me Doris, and I understand." The tone of the woman's voice said she didn't. "Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?"
"Come into the kitchen," Lizzie said. "I'll make us coffee."
With a sniff, Doris followed Elizabeth into the kitchen.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I ran upstairs and threw on a pair of sweats and a baseball cap. Her father was to blame for this. If Lizzie couldn't see that, she was blind.
I hoped marrying her so fast wasn't a mistake I'd live to regret. The honeymoon period was fast coming to an end, and it looked like it was about to get messy. Thank God neither of us had brought up what I'd said during sex.
If I loved her, I wasn't feeling it at the moment, and the way her cold eyes looked at me showed she didn't like me never mind love me.
The shit show we were living had to end soon. The stress was taking its toll on both of us. I'd apologize to her later for the way I spoke to her last night. I was out of line, and I didn't like feeling responsible for the haunted look on her face. By the look of her puffy eyes, she'd gotten as much sleep as I had. Later, I would show her how sorry I was in the best way I knew how, but this time, there would be no declarations of love.
The scent of percolating coffee welcomed me into the kitchen. Lizzie and Doris sat at the table by the window with several sheets of paper spread out in front of them. As if noticing for the first time I was there, Lizzie looked at me.
To anyone else, she would have looked calm, but I knew her well enough to notice the tension lines around her eyes and mouth.
"Doris wants to interview both of us," she said. "She wants to make sure we didn't break the law by marrying so you could get a permanent resident card." If she was nervous, she didn't show it.
"No problem," I said. "We both know why we married. That's all that matters."
Doris sighed and gave me a small smile. "I wish that's all that mattered. Everything about your relationship seems so rushed. And the phone call we received confirms what the paper trail says."
I poured myself a mug of coffee. I would do what I could to discover who had made that call, and then I would fucking kill them.
I sat opposite my wife and caught her hand. "Can you tell us who made the call? The thing is, Lizzie's dad has been sticking his nose in, and I accused him. That's what we fought about. Our argument got heated, so Lizzie asked me to sleep on the sofa. It was all my fault."
I didn't miss the way Lizzie's lips parted or the way her fingers tightened around mine.
"I can't tell you who called," Doris said.
Lizzie took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you gave me a yes or no answer. My dad hasn't been himself. He was in an accident and isn't happy he no longer has me at his beck and call. I'm afraid he's going to do what he can to split us up. I know we rushed into this marriage and I know a lot of people are wondering why. The truth is until I met Caden I swore I would never marry again. My first husband walked out on me after six months. The humiliation was too much, and I swore I would never allow anyone to do that to me again. When Caden came along, that all changed. He changed something inside of me."
Doris pursed her lips and nodded a few times as if she were having a conversation with herself. "No, it wasn't your father. That's more than I should say and don't ask me again who it was."
Lizzie's shoulders sagged, and relief filled her eyes.
I was a dick. Pure and simple. "I'm sorry, Lizzie. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I should have believed you when you said it wasn't your dad."
"It's okay. It hasn't been an easy few days. We were both wrong. I'm sorry for going to bed angry and not talking about it."
Doris cleared her throat. "I'm sure I don't have to remind either of you how serious a fake marriage is. You, Mr. Gallagher, will be deported and you, Mrs. Gallagher could go to prison. And the prison you'd go to isn't some fun-loving Orange is the New Black holiday camp."
"We know," Lizzie said, speaking for both of us. "I love my husband. I'll go anywhere he goes even if that means giving up my life here and moving to Ireland."
Shock at her declaration reverberated through me. I didn't know if she was lying or telling the truth. But the sincere look in her eyes said she was more than serious. If it came down to it, I wouldn't ask her to move to Ireland or leave her family or friends, but if my application was denied, and if she moved, it would look good for when I appealed the decision.
"That's not going to happen," I said. "I'm sure when Doris is finished interviewing us, she'll see we didn't marry so I could get a green card. She'll see we married for love." My heart pounded.
I didn't love her.
I didn't love her
I didn't...
I did.
But, more importantly, I needed to get this business put to bed and fast. There was another deal in the works. An old hotel on the Outer Banks came on the market a few days ago. I wanted to drive there this weekend to meet with the owners, and if all went to plan, I would consider making an offer.
"It remains to be seen if I think you married for a permanent resident card or not," Doris said, ticking boxes on a form attached to her clipboard. "Let's start upstairs, shall we. Show me your bedroom, bathroom, and closets. I want to make sure everything is where it should be."
Both Lizzie and I stood.
"You stay here, Mr. Gallagher." Doris tucked her clipboard beneath her arm. "I'd like to talk to Mrs. Gallagher on my own for a few minutes. When it's your turn, I'll let you know."
I nodded and kissed Lizzie on the cheek. I couldn't help but see her as a lamb on her way to the slaughter, and I was the one sending her there.