Archive of Our Own

AAA Week Day Two: Fake Marriage

I Now Pronounce You…

Agatha had never wanted to be a mother.

She was terrified of having children, to be quite honest. She was terrified that she would continue the same cycle of abuse that her mother’s mother had started. Agatha’s grandmother had been a cruel bitch to Evanora Harkness, so Evanora had been an even crueler bitch to Agatha – especially after Agatha had been outed as a lesbian in high school. Evanora had threatened to toss her right out of the house at age sixteen. 

So Agatha had done the only thing she could think to do: she’d gotten a boyfriend.

Rafael Vidal was seventeen at the time and the eldest of two siblings. Agatha knew his younger sister, Rio. She was a classmate of hers that Agatha hadn’t really known that well until she started hanging out at Rafael’s house with him and his family.

Their mother, Marisol, welcomed her with open arms and kisses on both cheeks every time she went over. She cooked delicious meals and told funny stories about her children’s childhood. Her husband, Santiago, was a broad-shouldered man with calloused fingers and a bushy, serious brow, but he was soft with his children at the same time. 

Rio had been his right-hand woman, working with him in his garage or helping him out with yard work. Rafael had been on the softer side, preferring to help Marisol with the housework. Agatha always tried to help, too, whenever she was there.

There was a time that Agatha could honestly say that she loved Rafael. Not in the romantic sense, not really. But he was sweet and patient and never pushed her for anything more than she was willing to give. She never told him of her inclinations towards other girls, too afraid of what her mother might do if the two of them ever broke up for any reason and certain that Rafael would want nothing to do with her if he found out she was a lesbian.

But then Rio had come out when they were seniors in high school, and Rafael embraced her fully, hugging her so tightly that Rio let out a groan that made the rest of the family laugh out loud. Agatha had been happy for Rio – truly happy – that she had the space to live her truth.

But she’d also been envious. Because Rio had a supportive mother and father. Because Rio’s brother would tease her about liking girls, but he’d also stand up to anybody else who so much as looked at her weird for it.

Because she had what Agatha wanted, in more ways than one.

Rafael came to Agatha and Rio’s prom. He’d taken Agatha to his prom the year prior, but nothing had happened there except a few pictures, some dancing, and kissing in the back of the limousine. His hands had remained over her clothing and nowhere even remotely suggestive.

But her prom was different.

Rio had asked a girl in her AP Bio class, one that Agatha hadn’t even been aware was into girls. She was pretty and feminine, with long, wavy brown locks and crystalline eyes and pouty lips and a curvy figure. She was so beautiful and Agatha had wondered if she would have said yes if Agatha had been the one to ask her to prom.

She had tried not to dwell on it as she danced with Rafael, her cheek pressed to his chest, her hand in his. She had tried not to look over at Rio and her date – whose name was lost to time – and feel that envy climb up her throat. She’d bit back the jealousy and pressed a kiss to Rafael’s lips right on the dance floor, her hands roaming under his tuxedo jacket, her nails scratching over the thin fabric of his shirt. It was the same tux he’d worn to the last prom, with the same silky purple bowtie that he thought made him look like some kind of latino James Bond. Agatha had laughed at him when he held up a water pistol in one of their pre-prom photographs. 

When Rio came out dressed similarly, but with a green bowtie, she had nearly swallowed her tongue. Their suits were nearly identical, but somehow Rio’s was far more devastating.

Agatha did her best to ignore it. And to ignore the way that Rio’s date’s slinky green dress matched Rio’s bowtie, in both color and material. Rio’s hands clutched the material at her hip, her fingers brushing the soft skin of her date’s thigh where it was revealed by a slit in the dress. They danced closely and Agatha felt the jealousy turn her as green as that dress, as that stupid bowtie.

“Let’s get a room,” she’d whispered to Rafael then. They were in a fancy hotel. Rafael’s father, Agatha knew, had given him enough money to get a room for them “just in case” he’d said, but Rafael had brushed him off. He was willing to wait for Agatha, he said, for as long as it took.

Two years, Agatha had decided, was long enough.

She didn’t particularly enjoy it. 

Not that it was bad. Not that Rafael didn’t try his hardest to make her feel good – and he succeeded, somewhat. But her mind wasn’t on Rafael that night. Her mind was on green silk and long fingers and deep brown eyes that almost looked like his, but didn’t.

Still, in the afterglow, she clung to Rafael. She told him that she loved him and he returned the sentiment. It wasn’t the first time they’d said those words to each other, but Agatha tried to make them feel more true, if only to herself.

By graduation, she was starting to feel ill.

By August, she knew that she was in trouble.

She tried to ignore what she already knew as she packed for college, ready to finally escape her mother’s clutches and find independence elsewhere.

One month into college, she took a pregnancy test. It was already her third missed period, but denial was one hell of a drug. Three tests all came out with little pink plus signs on them and she knew that she was fucked.

Her first call wasn’t to Rafael. It was to Rio.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Well, hello to you, too.” 

Rio’s voice wasn’t judgemental. She wasn’t cruel or disapproving. She didn’t call Agatha dumb or slutty or try to make her feel bad about this shitty situation.

“How can I help?” she asked after Agatha had cried to her over the phone for a little while.

“Help me tell your brother?” Agatha asked. “And your mom. Oh God, she’s going to be so disappointed in me.”

“Ha!” Rio had said. “You’re the favorite child. She would never be disappointed in her little Agatha. Besides, she’s been dying for grandchildren since my cousin Marta had her own baby. Titi Muriel is about to have competition for World’s Best Abuela.”

Agatha sniffled. “What if I’m a bad mother, though?” she asked. “What if I’m like my mother?”

“I don’t even know the bitch,” Rio had said, “but I just know you won’t be.”

And that was enough for Agatha. For a while, at least.

She told Rafael the next weekend, when he came to visit her. His university was two hours away. By the time he made it to her, Agatha was a nervous wreck, her heart hammering against her ribcage as she fought to keep her nausea at bay.

Rafael was elated with the news, which thoroughly surprised Agatha.

“You…you’re happy about this?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

“Of course I’m happy!” Rafael had exclaimed, standing up and practically bouncing on his feet. “We’re going to have a baby! A little girl with your blue eyes and my devilish smile.” He gave her a lopsided grin, which Agatha snorted at.

“Goddess help us,” she said.

“Or a little boy,” Rafael said. “Maybe he’ll have black hair, like my mami and Rio. Oh God , Rio’s going to be insufferable .”

“What?” Agatha asked. “Why?”

“Because this kid is definitely going to be her little mini-me. I’m my tio’s mini-me. My dad is his tia’s mini-me. It’s, like, tradition at this point.” He took a deep breath, sitting down next to Agatha on her bed. “Are you okay with all this?” he asked, slipping his hand into hers. “I’m sorry I got so excited that I forgot–”

“I’m fine,” Agatha said. “It’s fine. I just…I wasn’t expecting this so soon , you know?” 

She had always expected that she might marry into the Vidal family, so long as her mother was around. She didn’t think she could do much better than Rafael in terms of somebody so sweet and patient and loving, somebody who cared so much about her. She felt overwhelming guilt about never telling him the truth about her sexuality, but to tell him now would be…moot.

Because they were having a baby together. They were going to be a family.

“We’ll figure it out,” Rafael promised, wrapping his arms around Agatha. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?”

Agatha nodded against his shoulder, praying that she would somehow learn to love him just as much as he loved her. And that she would learn to love this child more than her mother ever loved her, that she wouldn’t continue the same old cycle of abuse.

Unfortunately, she never got the chance to truly love Rafael. 

It was two months after Nicky had been born. They had just finished their first year of college. Agatha had had help in the form of Marisol Vidal, who picked up Nicky from the college’s daycare on days when Agatha had an afternoon class and who took over night feedings and changings to let Agatha get a little rest before her morning classes. 

Agatha had insisted that she could handle taking care of Nicky on her own, that Marisol didn’t have to give up her life to raise her baby. 

Marisol had scoffed at her, had tutted and shook her head as she plucked Nicky from his bassinet, where he lay wet and whimpering.

“This is what abuelas do,” she said. “They help their daughters with their grandchildren so that their daughters can create a future for their babies. You and Rafael will pay me back tenfold in a few years, I’m certain of it.”

She pressed a kiss to Agatha’s forehead at that and walked to the changing table in Agatha’s bedroom (it was really Rafael’s, but he was still away at college, by Marisol’s own insistence that he not interrupt his studies) while Agatha fought back tears.

She hadn’t realized just how much she would cry in the aftermath of giving birth. She wondered if her own mother had ever cried. She doubted it.

She finished off the semester strong, thanks in large part to the accommodation of her professors, who emailed her assignments and videos of their lectures so that she wouldn’t fall behind. She got good grades on all of her finals because her classmates let her share their notes as they made funny faces at baby Nicky strapped to her chest in the school library on one of the few days she had him.

Agatha was taken aback by just how much she loved this little being in her arms. She loved his little coos and the way he wrinkled his nose as he woke up. She loved his big brown eyes and the furrow of his little brow, like he was thinking really hard about something (usually, though, he was just taking a poop). And she loved when he clutched her shirt in his tiny fist, like he was holding onto her for dear life.

She loved everything about Nicholas Rafael Harkness Vidal and she wondered how any mother could not feel the same way about their own child. How Agatha’s own mother could not feel the same way. 

She watched the way Marisol and Santiago spoke of their children, how proud they were of Rio’s burgeoning Engineering degree, of Rafael’s Early Education studies, of Agatha’s English degree…and she wondered why it was that Evanora couldn’t love her like that, couldn’t be proud of her like that.

Rafael’s last final was a week later than Agatha’s, and he must have been desperate to see her and their son because he was apparently speeding on the highway, going thirty miles over the speed limit when he lost control of his old Ford truck and crashed into a barrier, flipping his car twice. 

He was rushed to a hospital about twenty minutes outside Westview, but he never even made it there. 

Agatha’s devastation was as palpable as everybody else’s. Not for herself, but for Nicky. Nicky who would never truly know his father. Nicky who had only known his father, really, for two weeks of his life, just after he was born when Rafael had delayed going back to school in order to help take care of the baby while Agatha recovered. Nicky, who was so loved by his father, who sent gifts and did video calls and told Nicky how much he loved him whenever he had the chance. 

Thankfully, Agatha had saved those videos.

The summer following Rafael’s death felt…quiet.

Rio was more subdued, not joking as much as she mowed the lawn and worked in the garden with her father. Santiago threw himself into his flowers, planting lilies for his boy in a special section of the yard. He placed a plaque there for Rafael, too.

Loving father, son, and husband.

They’d never gotten married. They’d spoken about it like it was an inevitability. And it was, Agatha thought. There was no family that she’d rather be a part of than this one, even if she didn’t love Rafael quite the same as he loved her. She could hide the parts of herself that didn’t fit with the rest if it meant staying in this family.

Even now, though never legally bound to them, Agatha felt more like a Vidal than she ever had a Harkness. She had even been reluctant to give Nicky her name as part of his own, but Rafael had been insistent on it.

“It’s part of his history,” he’d said. “He needs to know where he comes from, if only to know what not to do.” He’d stroked Nicky’s downy cheek with his index finger, chuckling as Nicky’s nose wrinkled and he let out a little sound of discontent. They were both so in love with this little being that they had made.

And now one of them was gone.

Agatha helped Marisol in the kitchen throughout the summer, doing any work that Rafael might have done: mopping the floors, washing the dishes, taking out the trash, etc. She did anything that needed to be done to give Marisol a reprieve as she mourned her son.

When Agatha went back to her classes, she worried about leaving Nicky with Marisol, that it would be too difficult for her to watch the baby boy who had his father’s big brown eyes and that sweet smile, but Marisol was insistent that she would be okay.

And she was.

Agatha came home every single day to find Marisol singing songs to Nicky as she warmed up bottles for his afternoon snack, which soon turned to jars of baby food, then strawberries and pieces of banana as he got older. Marisol would dance around the house with him giggling on her hip.

During the holidays, they left a spot open for Rafael at the dinner table. At his birthday, they had cake with as many candles as years he would have been old. On Nicky’s first birthday, they showed him a video of Rafael in the hospital on the day he was born, telling him how much Papi loved him as he rocked with him in his arms, smiling brightly at the camera. 

Marisol and Rio made sure to teach Nicky Spanish, which Agatha was grateful for. Not only was it a good skill, but it connected him to his heritage in a way that Agatha couldn’t exactly facilitate. She knew a little Spanish, as well, thanks to Rafael and Rio constantly bickering in it whenever they were in the same room, but not enough to confidently speak it, let alone teach it to her son.

By his second birthday, Nicky was pretty fluent, and Agatha was…getting there. She could understand some of his toddler ramblings, but it mostly just sounded like gibberish to her. Mostly, Rio said, because it was.

“He’s got the gist of it,” she’d laughed, picking Nicky up and throwing him above her head, “but he’s still just a little baby,” she baby-talked him, kissing his nose, “so he’s gonna babble and we’re going to respond in Spanish and pretend he’s saying real words. It helps with their development.”

“You been taking psychology courses, too?” Agatha teased as Rio handed over her son.

Rio blushed. “I might have read a parenting book or two,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “They were in Rafael’s things…” She looked away and Agatha could see the tears form in the corners of her eyes.

She lurched forward, wrapping her free arm around Rio’s shoulders, hugging her tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered into her neck. “For caring so much.”

“Always,” Rio had replied, wrapping her own arms around Agatha’s waist and Nicky’s body perched on her hip.

Nicky called Rio ‘Titi’ and ran to her whenever she walked through the door. Agatha would have been jealous if she didn’t feel herself fighting the same urge whenever Rio came in. It was the same feeling she’d had in high school, but she could never act on it.

Especially not now, when she was more or less Rio’s sister-in-law and the mother of her nephew.

When Nicky was four, Agatha enrolled him in a preschool that was just around the corner from the Vidal residence. He held her hand tightly as she walked him up the path for his first day, clinging to her like he would never see her again.

“Porque tengo que ir, mamá?” he asked, looking up at her with those big brown eyes.

He looked more and more like Rio with every single day that passed. Rafael had been right about their little family curse. Agatha found that she did not mind the triangular face shape or the slope of his nose that so closely resembled his aunt’s. She kind of liked it, actually.

It made her feel…things. Things that she absolutely could not feel, but that she would enjoy regardless…

“Because,” Agatha replied to him in English, “you’re a big boy now. Big boys go to school and learn.”

“No wanna learn,” Nicky moaned, pressing his face against her hip. “Wanna go home and dance with Abuelita.” 

Agatha chuckled and paused, turning to crouch next to him. “I promise you’ll have fun here,” she said. “Just like at daycare, you’ll make some friends. Okay? Just give it a try. For me?” 

She gave him the same playful pout he gave her when he wanted to get his own way.

Nicky let out a long-suffering sigh, like he had a mortgage and bills that were due, and nodded. “Okay, Mama,” he said. “I try. For you.”

“My sweet boy,” Agatha said, pinching his cheeks and kissing his forehead. “You’ll make so many friends here, I promise.”

And she was right.

Nicky was practically the life of the party at preschool. Everybody wanted to be his friend and he wanted to be theirs. Agatha practically had to tear him away from the school, promising that they would be back tomorrow so he could see his friends then.

When they got home, he ran right up to Santiago and Marisol to tell them all about his new friends while Agatha showered after a long shift at work.

She hadn’t been able to find much after getting her degree. Without a master’s, she couldn’t even teach with a degree in English – and she definitely could not afford to get a master’s degree just yet. She ended up getting a job as a cashier at a local pharmacy, dealing with the stupidity of the Westview public for minimum wage.

Thankfully, Marisol and Santiago refused to charge rent, so Agatha was able to put whatever money she made into savings, hoping that eventually she and Nicky could get their own place.

Unfortunately, the year Nicky turned six, he came down with probably the worst cold Agatha had ever seen. She had to stay home from work several days just to hold him, to rub his back in the steamy bathroom as he coughed so hard that he puked all over her back. Agatha held him through it.

Eventually, she had to return to work, though Nicky didn’t seem to be getting better. She left him in Marisol’s care, insisting that Marisol call her if he got worse.

He got worse.

Marisol called her from the hospital, her voice choked with tears as she told Agatha how Nicky had turned blue in her arms, unable to breathe or speak but begging for help with clawing hands and bulging eyes.

Agatha had left work without preamble, rushing to the hospital – the very same hospital that Rafael had never made it to – terrified that she was about to lose another piece of her heart.

When she got there, however, Nicky was fine. Or he seemed so, anyway. He was coloring and drinking juice with tubes coming out of his arms and a cannula in his little nose. Agatha ran to him, pressing kisses to his face until he was giggling and pushing her away.

“Mama, I’m okay!” he exclaimed through a peal of giggles. “Honest.”

But he wasn’t okay. He had wires all around him, monitoring his heart and his lungs, and he had oxygen in his nose, and he was on a saline drip for dehydration. There were dark rings under his big brown eyes and his hair was messy and greasy from not having been washed in days. He was too sick for baths. He coughed too much and Agatha feared he wouldn’t be able to keep himself sitting up or even standing in the shower long enough for her to shampoo his hair, so she didn’t. She figured she’d get to it as soon as he was better.

But he wasn’t getting better.

“He has pneumonia,” the doctor told her, frowning in Nicky’s direction. “It’s really bad.”

“How in the hell did he get pneumonia ?” Agatha huffed. “It’s not even cold out.”

“Pneumonia isn’t limited to the winter, Mrs. Vidal,” the doctor said.

“Harkness,” Agatha corrected. “My name is Harkness. His is Vidal.” She swallowed, thickly. “So is he going to be okay?”

“We’re going to start him on a regiment of antibiotics and keep him here for a few days for observation. If all goes well, he should be fine.” He offered her a smile that Agatha was certain he thought was comforting.

But all she could think about was the fact that ‘a few days’ of observation was going to completely wipe out her savings. Not to mention the cost of the antibiotics and the oxygen that they were funneling into his nose. The inflated costs of the goddamned hospital were going to bury her.

Agatha looked back at her son, so tiny and frail, laying in that big hospital bed surrounded by machines, and her entire body sagged.

If it meant he would be okay, she would find a way to make it by, even if it meant getting a third job.

“What’s going on?” a voice behind her said. Agatha jumped, turning around to see Rio there, her hair thrown in a messy bun, wearing the dirty tank top and overalls she wore when she was working on a car with her dad. 

Agatha could feel her entire body burst into flame at the sight.

“He…he has pneumonia,” she said, dumbly, as though she were saying that the weather outside was sunny. 

“ Pneumonia ?” Rio huffed. “In the summer? Pobrecito .” She tutted the same way that Marisol often did. “He looks okay now,” she said. 

“Yeah, they’ve got him hooked up to a lot of very expensive machines,” Agatha said, not even attempting to hide the stress in her voice. Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of the medical bills that were about to start piling up. “How the fuck am I going to pay for this, Rio?”

Agatha rarely cursed in such close proximity to Nicky. She was certain he could still hear her, though she prayed that the whirring of the machines drowned her out. 

“Come on,” Rio said, tugging on her arm. “Come with me.”

Agatha didn’t protest as Rio dragged her toward a nearby waiting room, sitting her down on a stiff loveseat beneath a television that was playing some sappy soap opera. They just sat for a long moment, in silence, as the television played in the background. 

Finally, Rio spoke.

“I’ll pay the medical bills,” she said. 

Agatha’s eyes widened at that and she stared at Rio. “What?” she huffed. “No! No way! Rio, that’s too much.”

“I think you’re underestimating just how much I make as a mechanical engineer,” she said. “And I live at home, paying zero dollars in rent. It’s not like I need the money.”

“Still,” Agatha said, shaking her head. “I can’t–”

“You can ,” Rio said. “I’ll just grab the medical bills out of the mail and pay them before you can even protest.” She raised her eyebrow challengingly.

“You wouldn’t do that,” Agatha said, “if I told you not to. It would make me very uncomfortable.”

Rio pressed her lips together. “You have to let me help somehow,” she said. “He’s my nephew . I need to help him.”

“Paying exorbitant medical bills and putting yourself in financial distress is not going to help me,” Agatha huffed. 

“Then let me adopt him,” Rio said.

“What?” Agatha asked, her eyes widening as she stared at Rio.

“Not, like, away from you,” Rio explained. “But, like, let me become his second parent. Then my insurance will extend to him and you won’t have to worry about the medical bills.”

“You would do that?” Agatha asked, side-eyeing her.

“I would do anything for him,” Rio assured her, taking Agatha’s hand. “ And for you.” She brought Agatha’s hand up to her lips, kissing her knuckles. Agatha flushed and swallowed thickly. 

That’s not what she means .

She doesn’t feel that way about you.

She can’t feel that way about you.

“Okay,” Agatha said, after a long moment. “Okay, that actually sounds…like a plan.” She took a deep breath. “For Nicky.”

Rio nodded in agreement, letting go of Agatha’s hand as she looked back in the direction of her nephew’s hospital room. “Yeah,” she said. “For Nicky.”

“Why do you want to adopt your nephew?” 

The woman sitting across from them was nearing retirement age, probably, but her hazel-brown eyes still held a lively spark as she stared them down over her reading glasses.

“So he can be on my health insurance,” Rio said, simply.

“I didn’t hear that,” the woman – Lilia Calderu – said, shaking her head. “I didn’t hear that because that would be an instant denial.”

“What?” Agatha huffed. “ Why ?”

“Because it just would be,” Lilia explained. “I don’t make the rules. Pick a better reason.”

“Like what?” Rio huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “My nephew is sick right now and his mother doesn’t have health insurance. I’m trying to help!”

“Then marry her!” Lilia retorted. “That would get an adoption going!”

“What?” Agatha asked, her eyes widening as her cheeks warmed.

“What?” Rio echoed, her own cheeks turning pink. 

They dared not look at each other.

“If you became his stepmother,” Lilia explained, “it would probably expedite the adoption, actually. Then he’d be on your insurance in no time.” She looked between the two women, who were looking at her with buggy eyes and reddened cheeks. “What? You never considered that option? It’s legal now. Gonna take three days to get a marriage license in New Jersey, though. You could always just drive over to Connecticut and get one there. You could get married today if you make it before sundown.” She looked at her watch.

“There has to be another way,” Agatha said. “I mean…isn’t there?” She glanced at Rio, who glanced back. They both turned away at the same time.

“There are plenty of other ways,” Lilia said. “This is just the quickest. If you’re already married by this time tomorrow, you can probably get your child on your health insurance immediately. All you would need is his birth certificate and a marriage certificate. You wouldn’t even really need to adopt him if you didn’t want to.”

She looked between the two of them, watching as the information slowly sunk into their brains. From their flushed cheeks and widened eyes, Lilia could tell that this went deeper than just health insurance for the both of them.

She could give them a little time to figure it out.

“I’m going to refill my coffee while you think this over,” she said. “Think fast, though. The kitchen isn’t that far away.”

She left them alone in her office, shutting them in with a soft click .

“We can’t get married,” Agatha said.

“Why not?”

Agatha’s gaze snapped to Rio with a quickness that should have left her with whiplash. “Seriously?” she huffed. “Because I’m…your sister-in-law.”

“You and Raf never got married,” Rio huffed.

“Still!” Agatha said. “Don’t you think it would be…weird? How would we explain it to your parents? And don’t you actually want to get married someday, to somebody that you actually love ?”

Rio clenched her jaw at that, looking away for a long moment before turning back.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” she said. “I’ll adopt Nicky so that he gets to keep the health insurance and then…we’ll get divorced.”

“Your mother just crossed herself and she has no idea why,” Agatha joked. Rio snorted. “Are you sure about this?” Her voice was lower now, cautious.

“Yes,” Rio said. “Right now is the best time for this, actually. Both you and Nicky can get on my health insurance so you can actually see a doctor for the first time in how many years?”

“Shut up,” Agatha huffed, crossing her arms.

“Seriously, Ags,” Rio said. “You need to start taking better care of yourself. For Nicky.” She swallowed thickly. “Getting married is another thing you can do for him. What if he gets pneumonia again? I hear it’s easier to get if you’ve already had it once.”

Agatha had never heard that before, but Rio was the one who’d gone through all the advanced science classes, in both high school and college, so if anybody knew…

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll marry you.”

“Don’t make it sound like such a chore,” Rio teased. When Agatha looked at her, though, she saw some hurt there.

She sighed and turned to Rio, reaching for her hand. “Rio Vidal,” she said, “will  you marry me?”

“Well,” Rio replied, with a shrug, “if you insist.”

Agatha let out a snort of laughter, shoving Rio’s shoulder. “ Pendeja ,” she muttered.

“Ooh, look who’s keeping up with her Spanish,” Rio laughed. “I know Nicky didn’t teach you that one.”

“No, Rafael did,” Agatha said. “He always whispered it behind your back when you left the room.”

“Cabrón ,” Rio huffed, but she was smiling.

“What does that mean?” Agatha asked.

“Bastard, essentially,” Rio explained.

“Oop,” Lilia said, opening the door. “I heard bastard. Did the proposal not work out?”

“No,” Agatha sighed, “it did. I proposed to her, just for the record.”

“I’ll make sure to write it down,” Lilia said, placing her coffee mug on the desk as she sat down. “So, we’re going ahead with our wedding plan? I can find you a witness if you need one.”

“No,” Agatha said, glancing at Rio, “I think our family should do just fine.”

“Okay,” Lilia said, clapping her hands. “So you’ll come back to me in exactly…twenty-four hours, with a marriage certificate in hand, and we’ll get the ball rolling on that adoption?” She looked at Rio. “Are you still willing to adopt?”

“Of course,” Rio said. “Might as well. I can still be Titi Rio, though,” she said to Agatha, “if that makes you more comfortable.”

Agatha cleared her throat. “Whatever Nicky wants,” she said. “It’s up to him what he calls you.” Rio nodded.

“Okay,” Lilia said. “Just a couple of notes before you go.” They both looked at her, expectantly. “I know,” she continued, “that this is a marriage of convenience, but you will need to act as though you are in love at that city clerk’s office.”

“Why?” Agatha asked, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest. “Who really cares why we’re getting married so long as it’s legal?”

“Health insurance companies,” Lilia said, “like Miss Vidal’s here. They care. If they get a whiff that this marriage is a sham based on obtaining health insurance for you and your boy – which is absurd, I know, because I never heard anything about that – then they will try to prosecute you. It could even cost Miss Vidal her job. Then you’re both fucked. And imprisoned.”

“So we have to act like we’re in love,” Rio said, “just because some health insurance might get butthurt about us not wanting to go broke in this fuck-ass country?”

“That’s it exactly,” Lilia said, with a decisive nod. “Glad you understand.”

“That’s fucked up,” Rio said. “But, uh, it shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, I’m already a lesbian, and Agatha’s not bad to look at.”

“Gee, thanks,” Agatha deadpanned, though she felt a slight flutter in her belly.

“And you?” Lilia asked, looking directly at Agatha, her gaze narrowing slightly. “Any inclinations toward the fairer sex?”

“Uh…” Agatha flushed bright pink. “I…” She swallowed thickly. “I think women are beautiful,” she said, clearing her throat. She felt Rio’s gaze on her. “I’ve never been with a woman, though. No.”

She had kissed three girls in her life, all before she’d started seeing Rafael. The last girl had been the one to out her, telling her mother that Agatha had forced herself on her. That woman had called Agatha’s mother, and Agatha’s mother had confronted her about it. Agatha had lied and said that she’d never kissed a girl in her life and that girl was insane. 

She’d asked Rafael out the next day and brought him home a week later to meet her mother. It had gotten Evanora off her back about the lesbian thing, but, unsurprisingly, she wasn’t happy that the boy her daughter was apparently seeing was Puerto Rican .

But at least he was a boy. 

Agatha hadn’t even spoken to her mother since Nicky was born, anyway. Since she realized what it meant to be a mother herself and how much love she had for her own child. She realized then that there was never anything truly wrong with her, but the fault was with Evanora. She was the one who was broken beyond repair.

Still, she’d still never been with another woman. She’d never even kissed another woman. Not that she really had the time.

“Okay, then,” Lilia said. “Can you act like you think Miss Vidal is the most beautiful woman in the world to you? Can you commit yourself to her, at least for the time being?”

Agatha looked at Rio, who was eyeing her cautiously, as if one wrong move might send Agatha running for the hills. Instead, Agatha reached for her hand and squeezed.

“Yes,” she said, “I think I can do that.”

“Married?” Marisol gasped. “You’re getting married ?”

“Sí, Mami , ” Rio sighed. “Married. It’s for Nicky.”

“For Nicky ?” Marisol huffed, hands on her hips. “How is this for him?”

“Health insurance,” Agatha said. “He needs health insurance. Rio has really good health insurance and it’s easier to pay for all these bills we’re about to get,” she motioned to the hospital around them, “if we get married and he becomes Rio’s stepson.”

Marisol pressed her lips in a thin line. Behind her, Santiago was crossing his arms, his brow furrowed in thought.

“It does make sense, amor ,” he said. “I mean, those medical bills are going to be…” he let out a low whistle.

“ Still! ” Marisol practically whined. “One should not get married for health insurance ! You should get married for love !”

“Mami, Nicky doesn’t have time for that,” Rio insisted. “We need to do this now or Agatha could go into serious debt!”

Marisol’s frown deepened further as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Agatha sighed. “You can help me pick out my dress,” she offered. 

Marisol’s eyes widened at that, sparkling a little. “I can?” she asked. Agatha nodded and the frown shallowed a bit. She turned to Rio. “And you?” she asked. 

“I’m wearing a suit,” Rio declared. “Was always going to.”

“I can help with that,” Santiago said, grinning as he placed his hand on Rio’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Well, what about Nicky?” Marisol asked. “He’s still in his hospital room. Don’t you want him to be at your wedding?”

“He can’t leave his room,” Agatha said. “And we need to do this quickly. We’ll have a big party when he gets out of the hospital.”

“Are you not even going to tell him that you’re getting married?” Marisol tutted, disapprovingly. Agatha hated that sound.

“ Mami ,” Rio grunted.

“No,” Agatha said, “she’s right. We should at least tell him.”

“Agatha…” Rio said, her eyes wide.

“It’s fine,” Agatha said, reaching for her hand. “Come on.”

She tugged Rio in the direction of Nicky’s hospital room. He was looking much better. His face wasn’t quite as pale as the day before. He still had a tube in his arm that was administering his antibiotics and a cannula in his nose. He was watching television, hugging his stuffed bunny, Seńor Scratchy , and sucking on his thumb, a habit that she hadn’t been able to break him of yet.

“You better watch out,” Rio had teased. “That’s how I got this gap in my teeth.”

“Thumb sucker,” Agatha had teased back. She loved the gap in Rio’s teeth.

“Hey, Nicky,” Agatha said, coming in to sit at the end of his bed. She reached out to stroke his greasy hair. The first thing they were going to do when she got him home was give him a long bath.

“Hi, Mama,” he replied, giving her a small, tired smile. “Hi, Titi Rio.”

“Hey, buddy,” Rio said, sitting on the other side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Nicky said. “Just sleepy.”

“Yeah?” Agatha asked, scratching his scalp. “You wanna take a nap?”

“Yeah,” Nicky said, his eyes fluttering. He held Scratchy more tightly under his chin.

“Can you wait just a second, though?” Agatha asked. “Titi Rio and I have something we need to tell you.”

“Okay,” Nicky said, pushing himself a little bit. Agatha reached behind him to fluff his pillows, giving him a little extra support. “What do you hafta tell me?” he asked, sitting at a 45-degree incline, his eyes still drooping.

Agatha and Rio shared a long look. Agatha sighed and turned back.

“Titi Rio and I,” she said, her voice a little shaky, “are getting married.”

Nicky’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull and suddenly he had the energy to bolt upright in bed. His heart monitor started to increase in tempo. “What?!” he exclaimed, looking between them. “You’re getting married ?”

“Yes,” Rio said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to push him back down. “That’s what she said.”

“But…don’t two people only get married when they love each other?” Nicky asked, furrowing his brow.

“We love each other,” Agatha huffed. “We’re family.”

That’s not what she meant, but it was all she could really admit to at the moment.

“But you’re both girls,” Nicky said, looking between them.

“So?” Rio huffed, poking him in the side. “Two girls can get married.” 

He giggled, slapping her hand away. “Okay,” he said. “I guess so, but…why? Why now? I never seen you two kiss before. Married people kiss.”

“Do you want to see us kiss?” Agatha asked, leaning toward Rio in a teasing way.

“No, no, no, no!” Nicky said, covering his eyes. “Gross!”

Agatha laughed, shaking her head. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “Are you okay with this? With us getting married?”

Nicky looked down at his lap for a moment, as if thinking very hard about it, before looking up at them and nodding. “I think so,” he said. “We all live together already.”

“That’s true,” Rio hummed. “So this is okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Nicky said. “When are you gonna get married?”

“Today,” Agatha said, “but only because we have to do it quickly.”

“Today?!? But I’m not ready!” Nicky said, trying to sit up again as the heart monitor went haywire.

Agatha pushed him back down. “Calm down, baby,” she said. “We’re just going to sign a paper today. But we’ll have a really big party when you get out of the hospital, okay?”

“With a big cake?” Nicky asked, eyes pleading. 

“The biggest cake you’ve ever seen in your life,” Rio promised. 

“Can I wear a suit?” he asked. “And a flower crown?”

“Of course,” Agatha chuckled, sniffling a little bit. “Whatever you want, okay? We just wanted to let you know before we go.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Have fun getting married, I guess.” His eyes were drooping even more and he cuddled Scratchy closer to his chest, turning his face into the pillow as he began to drift off.

Agatha smiled down at him and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Rio did the same.

Agatha picked out a simple lavender-colored dress, much to Marisol’s disappointment.

“I have a child,” Agatha reminded her. “I’m not wearing virginal white .”

“But it’s tradition ,” Marisol had whined. 

“When you’re a virgin,” Agatha retorted. “Now help me zip this one up.”

They were at a thrift store – also at the behest of her future mother-in-law – because Agatha refused to let anybody buy her some expensive poofy dress for a trip to another state’s government office building for a sham marriage.

“I’ll wear a nicer dress for the party I promised Nicky,” she told Marisol as the woman zipped up the back of the dress for her. It wasn’t unpleasant-looking at all, Agatha thought as she turned herself this way and that in the mirror. The sleeves had a lacy floral pattern and the body of the dress was cinched at the waist. It also had a sweetheart neckline and the hemline went just past her knees.

And it made her ass look fantastic . Agatha admired it for way too long, apparently, because Marisol clicked her tongue at her and swatted her shoulder with a laugh.

“Vanity does not become you,” she huffed, shaking her head with an affectionate smile. Then her face became serious. “Are you sure about this, querida ?” she asked. “You don’t have to do this. Santiago and I could–”

“No,” Agatha said, her voice firm. She had taken lessons from Marisol herself on that, on leaving no room for arguments. “You and Santiago won’t be spending a dime on my son’s medical bills,” she insisted. “You save your money for something else. Let me worry about him.”

“He is our grandson!” Marisol huffed. “We should be helping!”

“You do,” Agatha said. “You’ve done so much more for me than my own mother ever did. You do so much more for Nicky than I could ever hope to do. Please, let me handle this.”

“You and Rio ,” Marisol huffed, raising an eyebrow.

Agatha shrugged. “We’re just signing some papers,” Agatha said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“ Es un matrimonio ,” Marisol argued. “It’s a big deal!”

“It’s just so that she can adopt Nicky,” Agatha said, keeping her voice low. Lilia had told them not to reveal their true intentions with the marriage, and Agatha didn’t know who might have been listening. Call her paranoid or whatever, but who really cared (besides the insurance company)? “They won’t let her do it otherwise. If she becomes his step parent, then he’ll be covered immediately by her insurance. Please try to understand.”

“I understand,” Marisol said, stroking her cheek. She pushed some of Agatha’s hair behind her ear. “But I do not believe that is the whole story.”

Agatha’s eyes widened at that and she took a small step back. “What?” she asked, feeling her mouth go dry. “Wh-what do you mean? Of course it is!”

“Agatha,” Marisol said, the slightest hint of warning in her tone, “do not lie to me. I have seen the way you look at my daughter. I’ve seen it for nearly eight years now. Maybe longer.”

“Marisol, I–”

“You look me in the eye and you tell me that you do not have feelings for my daughter.” Marisol’s gaze was steady – the same warm brown that Rio and Rafael both shared – and Agatha had never been able to bring herself to look into those eyes and lie. Not once.

“It’s…complicated,” Agatha said, feeling her eyes begin to well with tears as she looked down, ashamed. Marisol must have hated her now. She had lied for years about her feelings for her son. He had died thinking that Agatha loved him.

She had loved him, of course. He was her best friend, the father of her child, but she couldn’t love him the way he deserved.

“ Querida ,” Marisol sighed, placing her hands on Agatha’s cheeks and turning her gaze back to meet her own, “love is a funny thing. We don’t get to choose who or how we love. The heart wants what the heart wants. It cares not for what our brain desires.”

“But,” Agatha said, “I…I betrayed him.” Her voice was choked with tears.

“You did no such thing!” Marisol huffed. “You loved my Rafael, I saw it! You just…also loved my Rio. In a different way.”

“But it’s wrong ,” Agatha sniffled. “I…I was supposed to marry Raf. If he hadn’t died, then–”

“Then he would have figured it out, eventually,” Marisol interrupted. “Trust me. My Rafael is sweet and kind, but he has never been simple. I can’t imagine that he would have been angry with you over something you couldn’t control.”

“But Rio…” Agatha said, clenching her fists in the material of the dress. “We could have never…”

“But you are together now,” Marisol said. “You are about to get married!”

“This wedding isn’t real,” Agatha sighed. “You know that. Rio doesn’t–”

“She does,” Marisol said, leaving no room for argument. “I know that she does. This wedding is proof that she does. What sane woman not in love would immediately agree to marry another just for health insurance?”

“One that wants to help her nephew?” Agatha said, but her argument was weak.

When Lilia had brought up the idea of them getting married, Agatha had expected Rio to burst into hysterics. She hadn’t expected her to jump on board as quickly as she had. It was Agatha who had said it was a crazy idea; it was Rio who had said ‘why not?’ almost instantly. Very little hesitation.

“My Rio is smart,” Marisol said. “She thinks things through very carefully. She doesn’t do anything without considering the other options. Hell, she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do, period. She is such a stubborn little cabrona .” She made a strangling motion with her hands that got a chuckle out of Agatha. “But she loves with her entire heart and soul,” Marisol added, with a soft smile. “She takes care of the ones she loves. She would not be doing this if she wasn’t all in. Trust me, querida . That girl…” She just shook her head with a smile. “If you still don’t believe me, look in her eyes as you say your vows today.”

“Vows?” Agatha asked, furrowing her brow.

“Just the little thing they make you say before the ‘I do’,” Marisol said. “Look at her eyes when she says hers. You’ll see what I mean.”

Agatha was dubious. She was certain that Marisol must have been mistaken. Rio didn’t…she didn’t feel that way about Agatha. She had never treated Agatha any differently than anybody else in her family. She had never acted any more affectionate or nervous around Agatha. She had welcomed her into their family as her brother’s girlfriend. There was no way…”

“Mami!” Rio’s voice broke through Agatha’s thoughts. “Come on! We gotta get there before the courthouse closes! Let’s go!”

They were about an hour outside Greenwich, CT, which was the closest town they could find with a courthouse that accepted quickie weddings and was only about a two-hour ride from Westview. They’d only stopped to find clothes to help them look presentable and like they were actually taking this wedding seriously – like Lilia had told them to do. 

It was only one in the afternoon, but Agatha wanted to get back to Nicky as soon as possible.

She exited the dressing room still wearing her dress and almost lost consciousness at the sight of Rio in a velvet, forest green suit. Her cheeks flamed at the sight and she prayed that she wasn’t beet red. Over Rio’s shoulder, she could see Santiago giving her a knowing smile.

Great, so he apparently saw right through Agatha as well.

Fucking fantastic.

Rio’s thrifted suit somehow fit her like a glove, a little tight around her curves but not in a way that was unflattering. Quite the opposite, actually. Agatha flexed her fingers around the material of the dress.

“Wow,” Rio said, her own eyes widening at the sight of Agatha in her simple dress. “You look…great.”

“You too,” Agatha replied. “That suit is really…wow. It fits you. And it’s your favorite color.”

“And that’s your favorite color,” Rio said, motioning to the lavender shade.

“Yeah,” Agatha said.

“Yes, yes,” Marisol said, clapping her hands. “You are having a very untraditional wedding despite my protests. We must go and pay for the clothes now and get on the road! Chop chop!”

“ Que impaciente ,” Rio murmured under her breath.

“What was that?” Marisol asked, turning her laser focus onto her daughter, whose shoulders hunched, making her appear shorter than Agatha for a second.

“Nothing,” Rio squeaked. Agatha snickered next to her and Rio nudged her with her elbow. Agatha nudged her back.

“Behave,” Santiago said behind them, but he was grinning. 

“Oh, I think I saw a fake flower bouquet near the front,” Agatha said as they walked toward the register.

“You are not carrying fake flowers down the aisle,” Rio huffed.

“I’m not walking down an aisle,” Agatha retorted. “And who cares?”

“ I care,” Rio said. “I already have a bouquet for you in the back of the car.”

“You do?” Agatha gasped.

“Yeah, don’t make a big deal of it,” Rio said, blushing slightly. “It’s just a couple of azaleas from the garden.”

“Azaleas are my favorite,” Agatha said.

“I know,” Rio replied, smiling shyly.

The two were silent as the cashier scanned their tags (the clothes were still on their body, but they were trying to show up as if they’d been ready to get married for ages , not simply hours) and Santiago insisted on paying for their wedding outfits.

“It’s not even twenty-five dollars, mija ,” he argued with Rio as he handed over his card to the cashier. “Let me give you your something new.”

Rio sighed. “Fine,” she said. She kissed his cheek, giving him a little squeeze before pulling away as he signed the receipt.

When they got to the courthouse, there was a short line ahead of them. Agatha and Rio waited together in line while Marisol and Santiago sat on a nearby bench. 

It was easy enough to obtain the license, costing them a small fee of fifty dollars. Rio paid it in cash and they each showed their ID to the person at the desk, who gave them a few papers to sign, then sent them on their way.

The clerk’s office was on the fourth floor.

There was another short line of quickie marriages ahead of them. Agatha couldn’t help but notice that half of the heterosexual couples were in plain clothes. She doubted anybody would question if they were doing it for the insurance benefits.

“Here,” Rio said, handing Agatha the bouquet of azaleas. It was tiny, only containing six blue azaleas. “Your something blue,” she said, grinning. 

Agatha plucked one out and tucked it into Rio’s suit pocket. “You need one, too,” she said. “Even in that suit, you’re also a bride.”

Rio flushed, clearing her throat as she looked away, her fingers stroking the soft petals of the azalea.

“Here,” Marisol said, coming up behind them, “is your something borrowed.” She placed one ring in Agatha’s hand and another in Rio’s. 

Rio’s eyes widened when she saw what they were.

“Mami,” she gasped. “We can’t: these are Abuelita’s rings.”

“Which is why,” Marisol retorted, “they are your something borrowed . I want them back. They are also old, so that takes care of that.” She smiled at them both. “You two are idiots,” she said, kissing Rio’s cheek, “but you are my idiots.” She kissed Agatha’s cheek.

The girls shared a look and Rio rolled her eyes.

“We love you, too, Mami,” she said.

Marisol clicked her tongue and shoved them away, gently.

“Next!” Agatha and Rio moved up in line. Agatha felt her heart jump.

This was real. This was really happening. They were getting married.

She was marrying Rio Vidal. This was not something she ever expected to actually happen. It was only something she’d allow herself to think about for a second or two before shaking it off and cursing herself for being so ridiculous.

But it was really happening.

And it was all wrong.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Agatha whispered, just loud enough for Rio to hear.

“What?” Rio asked, furrowing her brow. “Agatha, we have to. For Nicky.”

“It can’t just be for Nicky,” Agatha said.

“Next!”

The line was suddenly moving much more quickly now. Why was it going so quickly?

A woman ran out of the room, crying.

Oh. That’s why.

“What do you mean?” Rio said, her fingers wrapping around Agatha’s wrist. “Why else would we be doing this?”

Agatha turned to her, expecting confusion, but instead she found… hope ? There was something hopeful in Rio’s eyes, something desperate. It made Agatha’s heart thump in her chest, but she couldn’t speak.

“Agatha,” Rio urged, pleading. “What other reason do we have to get married besides Nicky? What other reason are you looking for?”

“I–”

“Next!” They stepped forward again and now they were just looking at the closed door to the clerk’s office. Agatha felt her breathing begin to shallow, but Rio’s hand tightened around her wrist, still holding on.

“Agatha,” she urged. 

“Do you have feelings for me?” Agatha blurted, finally looking up at Rio, trying desperately to keep the tears that burned in the corners of her eyes at bay.

Rio’s eyes widened at that. “What?” she asked, blanching. Her hand released Agatha’s wrist, but Agatha reached for it, grasping it with her own.

“Do you,” she repeated, forcing herself to keep eye contact, “have feelings for me? Yes or no?”

“Agatha, I–”

“Tell me the truth,” Agatha insisted. “ Please . Before we make a really big mistake.”

Rio took a deep breath, pressing her lips together firmly for a moment, before answering: “Yes.”

Agatha nodded, swallowing thickly. “Okay,” she said, letting a tear or two fall from her eyes. “Okay,” she repeated, turning toward the door. “Then we can do this.”

“What?” Rio asked, eyes widening. “Agatha, wha–”

“Next!”

Agatha wasted no time in tugging Rio into the room with her, marching up to the desk with her in tow. The taller woman was still staring at her in shock in confusion as Marisol and Santiago entered after them, unaware of what had just happened.

“Do you have your paperwork?” the clerk asked them.

Agatha nudged Rio, who stood there, staring dumbly at the clerk and holding their papers in her free hand – the one Agatha wasn’t clutching for dear life. She shook herself out of her stupor and handed him the marriage license and all the other papers that they needed to bring.

“Here,” Rio said, handing it over. “Sorry.”

The clerk just nodded and looked between them. “Do you have any tokens to exchange?” he asked. 

Agatha held up the ring Marisol had given her. Rio mirrored that movement.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you ready to begin?” He glanced over at Marisol and Santiago. “Witnesses?”

“Yeah,” Agatha said, smiling over her shoulder at them, then looking to Rio. “Ready?”

“Um,” Rio said. “Yeah?”

Agatha snorted, shaking her head as she looked back at the clerk. “We’re ready,” she said.

The clerk had the driest, most monotone voice that Rio had ever heard. The kind of voice that you tune out in school and possibly even fall asleep to, it was so boring. 

But Agatha’s hand was still in hers. Their palms were kissing, their fingers linked. And they were facing each other. 

Agatha was holding the flowers that Rio had grown especially for her. Azaleas were always Agatha’s favorites. She’d told Rafael that on their second date, and he’d come home to ask Rio if she grew azaleas. She hadn’t at the time, but she asked why anyway. He told her what he’d learned and Rio bought the seeds the next day. They had become a staple of her garden ever since.

At the time, Rio thought that she had done that as a favor to Rafael. She would pick him fresh blooms whenever possible so that he could give them to Agatha on their dates, her birthday, or just because. She reveled in the way Agatha always smiled whenever she could witness him presenting them to her. 

Once, she caught Agatha wearing one of the azaleas as a decoration in her hair. Rio had playfully teased her about it, but inside she felt butterflies in her chest at the thought that something she had grown herself had become so important to Agatha, that Agatha had loved something Rio had grown.

She rode that high the rest of the day.

It took her over a year to realize that she was a little bit in love with her brother’s girlfriend, and she tried to tamp down that feeling from day one. Even after she’d come out, she tried to act as if Agatha meant nothing more to her than a sister – her brother’s girlfriend, his future bride most likely. 

Even when Agatha used to call her for advice, like the time she’d called Rio about her unexpected pregnancy. Rio’s heart had dropped into her stomach at the thought of Agatha having Raf’s baby, of creating a family with him instead of herself, but she’d pushed that all away in favor of supporting Agatha, of telling her that, truthfully, Rafael would be elated. 

And he was. Of course he was. Agatha hung the moon in his eyes.

She hung all the stars, too, in Rio’s. 

And now, here they were, about to get married. 

Ostensibly, this was for Nicky. Rio would have done anything for that little boy. She loved him so much, if only because he was the last part of Rafael that still lived. She would have given him her own heart and lungs if he needed them. 

Helping his mother pay for his medical bills in the only way she really could – even if it was super fucking painful – was the next best thing.

But now she was confused. 

Agatha had said that they couldn’t do this, couldn’t get married. Not if the only reason they were getting married was for Nicky’s sake. 

But of course that was the only reason. They’d discussed it just that morning in Lilia’s office. It was the best way for Rio’s health insurance to pay all of his bills, which otherwise would have buried Agatha. Okay, so maybe it was just as much for Agatha as it was for Nicky. Maybe it was more for Agatha than it was for Nicky.

Nicky really wouldn’t have been all that affected, really. The hospital would never refuse to treat him and Rio’s parents wouldn’t dream of kicking them out. They didn’t pay rent, anyway. But Agatha wanted her independence so goddamn bad . Rio knew that she hated relying on them all, that she felt guilt for taking things that they offered.

Rio blamed Evanora for that, the old bitch. She had made Agatha feel like a burden her entire life. Even nearly a decade of being part of the Vidal family couldn’t change that, it seemed.

Still, Agatha had asked the question: “Do you have feelings for me?” It was almost out of the blue. Almost. She knew that Agatha would probably figure it out sooner or later, and then it would go like it usually went with all the straight girls that Rio had a crush on – badly.

But Agatha had earnesty in her ocean blue eyes as she searched Rio’s, her hand tight in Rio’s grasp. Her gaze almost looked…hopeful. Like she wanted Rio to say yes to her question.

So Rio had. It was the honest answer, anyway. And she was powerless to be anything other than honest when Agatha was looking at her like that .

Internally, she had braced for impact, sure that Agatha would call the whole thing off, distance herself from Rio and her feelings . She would cite Rio’s feelings as the reason they absolutely could not do this , either because she didn’t want to exploit them or because they made her feel uncomfortable.

Instead, Agatha had practically dragged her into the clerk’s office, skirting around the happy couple who had just tied the knot in matching white track suits.

Rio had really not expected that.

And now, here they were, looking at each other as the world’s most boring man droned on and on next to them. There was something new in Agatha’s eyes. 

Or maybe it was something old, something that Rio had never noticed before.

“Miss…Rio Cristiana Vidal,” the man said, finally gaining her attention. Rio blinked up at him. “Do you take Miss…Agatha Agnes Harkness to be your legally wedded wife?”

“Your middle name is Agnes?” Rio asked, wrinkling her nose at Agatha.

“Ugh,” Agatha huffed. “I was hoping nobody would ever find that out…yeah. It was my dad’s mom’s name. The only thing I ever got from his side.”

“It’s…pretty,” Rio said.

Agatha snorted. “No, it’s not,” she said.

“So…” the boring man said. “Do you?”

“Oh,” Rio said, feeling her cheeks warm. “Yes! Um, I mean, I do.”

“Good. Now slide the ring on her finger and say, ‘with this ring, I thee wed.’”

Rio cleared her throat, slipping her fingers out of Agatha’s and pulling the ring from the pocket where she’d deposited it earlier. “With this ring,” she said, “I thee wed.”

“Fantastic,” the clerk droned. “Now, Miss Agatha Agnes Harkness,” he said, “do you take Miss Rio Cristiana Vidal to be your legally wedded wife?”

“I do,” Agatha said, pulling the ring out of a previously unseen pocket in the dress.

“It has pockets?” Rio gasped.

“Yeah!” Agatha giggled before placing the ring on Rio’s hand. It fit perfectly.

Almost too perfectly.

Huh.

“I now pronounce you wife…and wife,” the man droned. “You may now kiss.”

Rio’s eyes widened at that. She looked down at Agatha with hot cheeks, expecting to find a shy and reluctant ‘bride’, but instead she found herself being pulled down by the collar, her lips meeting Agatha’s in a mostly-chaste kiss (though she would swear she felt Agatha’s tongue swipe across her bottom lip later). 

Marisol and Santiago burst into applause behind them and Rio almost jumped. She had forgotten they were even there.

Agatha pulled back, laughing as she tossed the bouquet to Marisol, pulling Rio tightly against her side as she looked up at her with that new emotion that Rio still couldn’t name – but she was really in no rush.

The butterflies in her chest were fluttering like crazy as her lips burned and tingled, simultaneously. 

“Congratulations,” the man said in his dry tone. “You are now married. Take your paperwork and please vacate my office. I have more couples to see by end of day.”

He handed them a manila folder with all of their papers and began to shoo them away from his desk. Rio and Agatha followed Marisol and Santiago out.

“Who’s hungry?” Santiago said, clapping his hand as they reached the street. “Why don’t we pick something up to celebrate your nuptials?”

“As long as it’s on our way back to Nicky,” Agatha said. “Whatever you all want is fine with me.” She was holding Rio’s hand again as they walked to the car. 

Marisol glanced back at them over her shoulder, eyeing their clasped hands. She nudged Santiago to look. He did, a lopsided grin appearing on his lips.

None of this went unnoticed by Rio. Her parents were not subtle.

“Look,” Marisol said. “There is a pizza shop right there. We should get pizza to bring back to him.”

“Maybe we should go somewhere closer to home, Mami,” Rio said. “It’s a two-hour drive. The pizza will get cold.”

“Cold pizza is better, anyway,” Marisol insisted. “You two stay here while your father and I go get the pizza. Come, Santi.” 

“Yes, amor ,” Santiago said, dutifully. 

Marisol handed Agatha back the bouquet of flowers with a kiss on her cheek and a low whisper of something in her ear that Rio couldn’t quite decipher, then winked at her as she guided Santiago across the street to a nearby pizza shop.

“They could have waited until we were back in New Jersey, at least,” Rio huffed. “Now we’re gonna get crappy Connecticut pizza and–oomph!” 

Rio was shut up abruptly by the rejoining of her lips with Agatha’s. Agatha’s hands were back on her collar, tugging her as close as humanly possible, the azaleas she’d been previously holding now on the floor between them.

Rio didn’t even consider resisting after the initial shock wore off. Her hands cupped Agatha’s cheeks, tilting her jaw a little for a better angle, their lips melding together as they lost themselves in the kiss. She felt Agatha’s fingers stroke her cheek and her own hand immediately wrapped around her wrist, her thumb stroking a thrumming pulse.

When the need for air became too much, Rio broke the kiss and placed her forehead against Agatha’s. “What,” she gasped, “was that?”

“Do I have to explain what a kiss is?” Agatha teased, her lips swollen and her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“But why?” Rio asked, almost whining a little. “Why did you kiss me?”

Agatha took a deep breath and pulled away, but she didn’t let go of Rio as she straightened her back and cleared her throat.

“Because,” she said, after a long moment of just considering Rio silently, “I have feelings for you, Rio Vidal.” Then she furrowed her brow. “Harkness? Vidal-Harkness? Harkness-Vidal? Did we ever decide on a last name?”

“Babe, we just barely decided on a venue,” Rio retorted, the pet name falling off her tongue without a second thought. She watched as Agatha’s cheeks reddened at it. She swallowed thickly. “I thought you were straight,” she said. “You and Raf…”

“I loved Rafael,” Agatha said, her voice firm. “I still do, but…not like this.” She cupped Rio’s cheek again, and Rio felt herself press against the softness of Agatha’s palm. “No amount of love I’ve ever had for him even comes close to what I feel for you, Rio. And that scares the shit out of me.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes and Rio pulled her in for a hug, wrapping Agatha tightly in her arms. She felt Agatha’s arms wrap around her waist, her face pressed into her shoulder.

“How long have you known?” Rio asked. 

“That I wasn’t straight?” Agatha asked. “Since I was sixteen.”

Rio pulled back, looking into Agatha’s eyes. “You’ve known this entire time?”

“I knew that I wasn’t straight,” Agatha said. “I didn’t know that I was fully gay. Not always. I thought if I could fall in love with anybody, it would be Rafael. He was sweet and funny and caring and kind…and his family was amazing. Still is.” She pushed some of Rio’s hair behind her ear. “I didn’t ever dread the thought of marrying him,” Agatha said. “But I knew that he wasn’t the one I’d be happiest with.”

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” Rio said, though the urge to kiss Agatha senseless was getting stronger by the second. “You harbored feelings for me while you were dating my brother? While you were pregnant with his baby ?”

“You are so full of yourself,” Agatha huffed, shoving her away, breaking their connection for the first time. “I had a tiny crush on you, maybe , when we first met. But I don’t think I actually fell in love with you until after he…” She took a deep breath. “You’ve always been there for me, Rio. You always made me laugh and you took care of Nicky. That kid worships you – it’s actually a little concerning.” Rio snorted, blushing. “And I haven’t gone a day without thinking about you since…I can’t even remember when. I get stupidly happy when I see you in the mornings and you’ve already poured me a cup of coffee to bring to work. I love the way you get so animated when you talk about plants or whatever the latest project is you’re working on in your garage. My heart does this stupid little flip whenever I watch you carry Nicky up to bed, and I find myself wondering if that could just be…us, in another life. If I’d been free to choose you from the start, could we have a life together. Obviously, there would be no surprise pregnancies, but we might still end up with a kid or two, and you would take them to bed while I did the dishes and then we’d cuddle on the couch and Rafael would still be around to come visit us and I just…” She took a deep breath. “I’ve wanted that for so long, but I thought I could never have it. And it’s so, so stupid that the only reason I was going to get even a tiny taste of what I wanted stemmed from the fact that my kid got sick and this dumb ass country wanted to bury me in medical debt. But it was enough, I figured, if that was all I was going to get.”

“But then why did you ask me,” Rio asked, “at the clerk’s office if I had feelings for you?”

“Because standing there, it suddenly wasn’t enough. Suddenly, I needed to know that there was more there. More than just Nicky being sick and us needing your insurance. I figured if you didn’t feel the same way about me then I’d call the whole thing off and figure out a different way to pay the bills. I could find a way. I hear you can pay, like, five dollars a month or something. I could do that. It would probably ruin my credit, but he’s worth it.” She swallowed thickly and looked up at Rio. “But then you said yes.”

“And that was all it took?” Rio asked, only half-teasing.

“That and at least five years of yearning,” Agatha retorted, rolling her eyes. “All I needed was one more reason to say yes to you .” She placed her hands on Rio’s waist. “I was already in too deep; I just needed to know that you were with me.”

“I am definitely,” Rio said, cupping Agatha’s cheek, “with you.” She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Agatha’s lips. “Legally now,” she said, holding up her left hand as she pulled away.

“You dork,” Agatha huffed, shoving her shoulder as Rio cackled.

“You love this dork,” Rio shot back, automatically, flushing bright pink as Agatha’s eyes widened. “I mean–”

“Yes,” Agatha said, “I think I do, actually.”

“Really?” Rio asked, eyes wide, face hot.

Agatha held up her left hand. “Duh,” she said.

“Girls!” Marisol’s voice interrupted whatever smart retort Rio was about to make and they turned to see her holding two pizza boxes while Santiago held a two-liter bottle of soda. “Let’s go! Nicky is waiting!”

Agatha plucked the flowers from the floor with one hand and took Rio’s hand with the other, dragging her in the direction of the car, smiling brightly back at her as they broke into a jog together.

“So…you’re my mom, too, now, Titi Rio?” Nicky asked, looking up at his aunt/stepmom, holding a piece of cold pepperoni pizza in his hands. 

“Um…sorta?” Rio said, glancing sideways at Agatha. “I can still just be Titi Rio if you prefer, though. Whatever you want, buddy.”

Nicky twisted his face up in thought. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Agatha said. “You take however long you need, baby. We have plenty of time.” She smiled sideways at Rio, who grinned back, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“Ewww!” Nicky said, dropping his pizza and covering his eyes. “Gross! No kissing!”

“Prude,” Rio huffed, poking him in the side. He giggled and slapped her hand away.

“So,” he said, “when are we gonna have the party?”

“As soon as you’re out of the hospital,” Agatha said, “we’ll start planning it.”

“Are you going to be my Best Man?” Rio asked.

“No way!” Agatha huffed. “I spent twelve hours in labor with him after growing him for nine months. He’s my Best Man. Your dad can be yours.”

“My dad is walking us both down the aisle,” Rio said. “He called dibs, remember?”

“Then your mom can be your Maid of Honor,” Agatha said. “Because I have natural dibs on my son.” She curled against Nicky in the bed, pressing a kiss to his head, then wrinkling her nose. “My son who is definitely getting a bath when we get home.”

“Ugh!” Nicky huffed, shoving her away, but Agatha held tightly, kissing his face obnoxiously. “Mama, stop!” he squealed, giggling and kicking his feet.

“Never,” Agatha said, pressing her forehead to his as she reached back for Rio’s – her wife’s – hand. “I will never stop.” 

Rio grinned at her, pulling Agatha’s hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it.

“Neither will I,” she said, leaning in to also press a kiss to Nicky’s forehead, then turning to kiss Agatha’s temple. 

She held them in her arms for a long moment, basking in it.

Tomorrow, they’d have to meet with Lilia to go over all the paperwork for her official adoption of Nicky, and they’d have to submit that same paperwork to the insurance company to move him onto her health plan – which, according to Lilia, would come with a host of questions and a lot of suspicion, given the timing of the impromptu marriage – but that was a problem for future Rio.

Present Rio just wanted to live in the moment, with her new wife and stepson. Her family .