Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO GAVE ME THE PEN
Daniel told the driver to stop outside a courthouse in lower Manhattan.
The driver looked confused.
“Sir, Mrs. Carter said the private registrar—”
“I know what she said.”
Daniel's voice remained calm.
“Stop here.”
The SUV pulled to the curb.
Daniel turned toward me.
“You can get out. There's a public entrance, security inside, and taxis across the street.”
I stared at him.
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
“No conditions?”
“No.”
I looked down at the papers.
“Your mother said my family owes yours four hundred thousand dollars.”
“Your family's debts aren't yours.”
“She said you paid my brother's medical bills.”
“My family did.”
“And you're willing to lose that money?”
Daniel looked out the window.
“Emma, I spent three years learning to walk again. I know what it feels like when someone else controls whether you can stand.”
His jaw tightened.
“I won't do that to you.”
I had spent the entire night waiting for him to reveal the price of his kindness.
Instead, he reached into his coat and handed me a pen.
“What is this?”
“A choice.”
I looked at him.
He nodded toward the unsigned documents.
“You can tear them up. Keep them. Show them to an attorney. Whatever you decide.”
I turned the pen between my fingers.
It was silver, scratched near the clip.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“I'm trying to be decent. There's a difference.”
Then he stepped out.
His cane touched the pavement.
I watched him walk around the SUV, one careful step at a time.
When he reached my door, he didn't open it.
He waited.
I opened it myself.
Inside the courthouse, I found a legal assistance desk.
The woman behind it listened as I explained the ceremony, the unsigned papers, and my family's involvement.
Her expression grew increasingly serious.
“Were you told you were marrying Daniel Carter before the ceremony?”
“No.”
“Did you consent to marrying him?”
“No.”
“Then you need independent legal advice before signing anything.”
She gave me contact information for a family-law attorney and explained that the legal effect of the ceremony would depend on what had actually been filed and the circumstances of the purported marriage.
For the first time in twenty-four hours, someone asked what I wanted.
I almost cried.
When I returned outside, Daniel was sitting on a bench.
He had bought two coffees.
He offered one.
I hesitated.
“It's just coffee,” he said. “No hidden agreement.”
I took it.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
We sat quietly.
Then I asked the question I'd been avoiding.
“Did you want to marry me?”
Daniel stared into his cup.
“I wanted to meet you.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He gave a small, sad smile.
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“My mother told me Ryan had introduced you to the family and that you were interested in a marriage arrangement.”
My chest tightened.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
“And you believed her?”
“I wanted to.”
His honesty hurt less than Ryan's lies.
Daniel continued.
“After the shooting, people stopped seeing me as a man. I became the injured son. The damaged heir. The brother who needed to be compensated.”
He looked away.
“I thought perhaps someone had finally chosen me.”
I swallowed.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.”
He looked at me again.
“You didn't do this.”
My phone rang.
Mother.
I ignored it.
Then came a message.
YOUR FATHER IS FURIOUS. COME HOME AND STOP EMBARRASSING US.
I showed Daniel.
His expression darkened.
“Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”
I thought of my parents' apartment.
Of my brother's hospital bills.
Of the people who had accepted money to trade away my future.
“No.”
Daniel considered.
“My family owns an apartment building in Brooklyn. There's a vacant unit. You could use it temporarily, with a written agreement, if you wanted.”
I shook my head.
“I don't want to owe the Carters anything.”
“Then don't.”
He stood slowly.
“I'll help you find somewhere else.”
I looked at him.
May you like
And for the first time, I wondered whether Ryan had made a mistake far greater than giving away the woman who loved him.
He had underestimated the brother he'd betrayed.
