Because that’s what will happen. No one will know about this marriage unless it’s absolutely necessary. Like the two witnesses I brought with me. Though I only need one, it’s safer to have both so that if one of them can’t testify, the other can.
After all, this marriage is purely a formality. Something to use in court. Nothing more, nothing less. She can save her girlhood dreams about marriage for her next one.
“It still doesn’t make sense,” Sebastian, my nephew, says.
My jaw tics and I don’t know if it’s because of his words or my earlier thoughts.
“What part of I need power of attorney do you not understand, Rascal?”
He stares at me funny, like when he used to want to hit someone but knew he had to reel it in. But he wouldn’t normally direct that gaze at me, so maybe he does want to hit me.
Sebastian is ten years younger than me and the only person I consider family. My parents don’t count. They’re already dead in my mind.
The day he decided to follow my path instead of taking after my father’s corruption-smudged politics, I felt a sense of accomplishment I never have before. As if my existence had meaning all along.
“She could’ve given you power of attorney without the marriage part.”
“It’s the community property part that matters more. She already signed the contract that says our assets will be jointly owned after marriage, which will give me a strong standing in court.”
“And he won’t have to worry about her wandering off to God knows where.” Aspen steps to my side.
She wasn’t a big fan of the marriage idea herself, but like me, she understands that we need to do it in order to protect Weaver & Shaw. Despite the fact that we haven’t properly processed King’s accident.
Or, I haven’t processed it. Aspen couldn’t care less about him; her sole concern is the firm’s best interest.
As for myself, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to consider him gone.
So I shove that thought to the back of my mind. It’s crowded with all the unnecessary things—things that don’t keep the train moving forward.
Sebastian leans against his car and crosses his legs at the ankles. Sometimes it feels as if I’m looking at his father, Nicholas. Another person my parents stole away from me because of their assholish behavior.
His hair is a lighter blond, though, like his mother. One more person to add to the list of people who disappeared because of the Weaver power couple.
That’s what they call my parents in the media—a power couple.
Destructive couple suits them better.
“I just feel bad for Gwen,” he says, and I resist the urge to smash him against his car—and I never fantasize about hurting my own nephew.
But hearing him use her nickname sits wrong with me. Very wrong. In fact, it’s so wrong that I don’t even like to think about the reasons behind it.
Yes, Sebastian has met her a few times, and surprisingly, they get along, but the nickname is still off. It’s blazing red alerts in my head.
I stand to my full height, but he’s oblivious to that and to the rigidness of my body, when I ask, “Why do you pity her?”
“Why do you think?” He juts his chin in my direction. “Because she’ll be stuck with you.”
“And that’s a problem because?”
“Aside from the fact that you and dear Aspen here are using her for the firm, hmm. Let me think.” He grins like the little bastard he is. “Oh, you’re cold, stiff, and will suck her soul into a black hole of no return.”
I grind my teeth and he must notice my body language this time since he throws his hands in the air. “Hey, you’re my uncle and all, but I’m not going to lie or sugarcoat shit for you. That’s what you taught me, remember?”
“Shut up, Sebastian.” Aspen shakes her head at him with a slight tap of her foot and a flip of her hair.
“You don’t get an opinion on this since you’re his accomplice, Aspen. Hello? Conflict of interest, anyone?”
“Then do you suggest we let go of our work and focus on Kingsley’s thousand pending cases instead? Do you want to lose your job at the firm, Sebastian? Right, that wouldn’t matter since you’re a rich boy from a prestigious family and your senator grandpa can find you another job, maybe even help you open your own firm. But how about the hundred others whose living depends on us, huh? Do we send them to your granddaddy, too, or do we take the most logical route with less hassle? Come on, you’re supposed to be smart. Which choice makes more sense?”