Chapter 11: Bound by Paper, Torn by Fire

Melinda stood in front of the tall mirror, her fingers tugging nervously at the silk collar of her blouse. The courthouse was quiet that morning, almost eerily so. The sun filtered through the high windows like a silent witness to the union about to take place not one forged in love, but necessity, secrecy… and the ache of unspoken history.

James stood beside her, impeccably dressed in a dark charcoal suit that hugged his form with authority. His tie was perfectly knotted, his face unreadable. But his eyes those sharp grey eyes flicked toward her every few seconds, as though trying to gauge what lay behind her practiced calm.

The marriage certificate lay between them on the mahogany table, crisp and accusing.

“This isn’t a real marriage,” Melinda said quietly, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s for the twins, for the public, for”

“For protection,” James finished, his tone firm but not unkind. “I’m not asking for love, Melinda. I’m asking for loyalty. For a united front.”

The pen felt heavy in her hand as she signed her name: Melinda Grace Holt-O’Connor. It looked foreign. Fake. Like wearing someone else’s skin.

James signed next without hesitation. The moment the ink dried, something intangible shifted between them. Not quite closeness. Not quite distance. Just tension charged and unrelenting.

After the quiet ceremony, they stepped out of the building into a sea of flashing cameras. The press had been tipped off. James played the part of the charming husband, his arm curled lightly around Melinda’s waist, his smile as cold as polished steel.

She leaned into him anyway, for the cameras, for the twins, for the illusion of a fairy tale that neither of them believed in.

Back inside the limousine, silence stretched thick.

“You’re angry,” Melinda said finally, her hands folded neatly on her lap.

“I’m calculating,” James said. “And wondering how long it will take before Andrew realizes you’re no longer the woman he thought he could destroy.”

She turned to face him, surprised. “You don’t believe he’s given up?”

James let out a humorless laugh. “Your ex is a narcissist with a bruised ego. Men like that don’t let go. They get even.”

“And you?” she asked. “What do you want, James?”

He looked at her then, slowly, like peeling back a curtain. “I want to make sure no one ever takes advantage of you again. And I want to know why you never told me about them.”

The twins.

Melinda’s heart lurched.

“Because I didn’t want to be anyone’s burden again,” she said, her voice tight. “I didn’t think you’d want us.”

James stared at her for a long moment, then reached into his jacket, pulling out two small velvet boxes. He handed them to her.

“For them,” he said. “They deserve to know that even if this marriage isn’t real, their family is.”

Melinda opened the boxes. Inside were two rings tiny, elegant platinum bands, engraved with the twins’ names.

Her throat tightened. “You planned this?”

“No. But I’ve had six years to dream about what I missed. I won’t miss anything else, Melinda.”

Outside the tinted windows, the city roared on. But inside the car, two wounded souls sat side by side, bound by children, driven by vengeance, and haunted by the possibility of something neither dared name:

Love.

Melinda didn’t say anything for a long moment, still staring at the twin rings in her hand. The velvet boxes were soft, but her grip was tight. She swallowed the lump rising in her throat.

No one had ever thought about her children like that not even their own father. Not even her. She had been in survival mode for so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to be seen.

James wasn’t saying the words. But he was showing them.

“They’ll love these,” she finally said, her voice softer, distant.

“I hope so,” James said, his tone uncharacteristically careful. “I know I’ve missed six years, and no ring fixes that. But I’m not going to make them feel like an afterthought. Not ever.”

She turned her head toward the window, blinking back the sting in her eyes.

“Why now, James?” she asked. “You’ve had time, too. You could have come for us before.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Because I didn’t know they existed until I saw them with my own eyes,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t know what that did to me, Melinda. Watching a little boy laugh with his sister and seeing myself in his face. Hearing her voice and knowing she has your eyes, your stubborn chin.”

His jaw flexed.

“If I’d known…” he began, but trailed off. “Hell, maybe I would’ve fought harder back then. For you. For us.”

Melinda pressed her fingers to her lips. The weight of the past pressed down like an avalanche. But even heavier was the weight of the present.

James cleared his throat, as if pushing emotion aside.

“There’s a charity gala next week,” he said, shifting into business mode. “The O’Connors always attend, and now that you’re my wife”

“Fake wife,” she corrected, though her voice lacked conviction.

He gave her a look. “We won’t have the luxury of reminding the world it’s fake. Not when we’re arm-in-arm in front of society’s finest. Vanessa will be there. Andrew too.”

Her heart skipped. “Andrew?”

“He’s trying to re-enter society. He’s broke, desperate, and he’s making noise again. The gala will be his stage.”

“And you want to use me as a chess piece?”

“I want to use us as the checkmate,” he said simply. “He’ll see what he lost. And he’ll know you’re no longer his victim.”

The limo pulled to a stop in front of the mansion their new, shared residence. A media circus waited behind velvet ropes, photographers shouting, bulbs flashing like strobe lights.

James looked at her, eyes sharp. “This is our first real performance.”

Melinda nodded. “Let’s give them a show.”

They stepped out together.

He held her hand as they walked up the steps his grip firm, her posture tall. To the outside world, they looked like a power couple flawless, united, untouchable.

But beneath the glamor, beneath the diamond ring and rehearsed smiles, two truths silently tangled in the space between their hearts:

He wasn’t over her.

And she was terrified of falling for him again.

Inside the mansion, the twins raced toward them from the grand staircase.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Mia yelled, holding up a drawing. “I made our family!”

Melinda crouched down, taking the crayon masterpiece. A stick-figure James stood beside her and the twins, all smiling under a big red heart.

James leaned over her shoulder and whispered, “They already see what we’re pretending to be.”

Melinda looked up at him. “That’s what scares me the most.”