Chapter 3: I Do

The rain started just before sunrise.

Tiny droplets clung to the courthouse windows, blurring the streets of Savannah into a watercolor painting of gray skies and yellow traffic lights.

Pedro Salvador checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time.

9:12 a.m.

His palms were sweating.

He’d taken exams worth half his grade without feeling this nervous.

Yet somehow, standing in front of the Chatham County Courthouse in a navy-blue button-down shirt made his stomach twist into knots.

He wasn’t getting married.

Not really.

This was just paperwork.

A business arrangement.

Nothing more.

“You’re early.”

Pedro turned around.

Liyanna stood beneath a black umbrella, wearing a simple cream-colored dress that reached her knees. Her curly hair fell over one shoulder, and she wore almost no makeup.

For a brief second, Pedro forgot to breathe.

“You clean up nicely,” she teased.

He blinked.

“So do you.”

She smiled.

“Relax. You look like you’re walking into your execution.”

“I kind of am.”

Liyanna laughed so loudly that two people walking past looked in their direction.

“Come on.”

She nudged his shoulder.

“If either of us faints, it’ll definitely be you.”

“I don’t faint.”

“You look close.”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

For the first time that morning, Pedro laughed.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Inside the courthouse, everything felt surprisingly ordinary.

A young couple sat nearby, holding hands.

An elderly pair smiled as they renewed their wedding vows.

A toddler chased his father across the waiting room while his exhausted mother apologized to everyone.

Life continued around them.

Meanwhile, Pedro and Liyanna sat side by side in silence.

Neither knew what to say.

Finally, Liyanna whispered,

“So…”

“So.”

“If this gets weird…”

“It already is.”

She giggled.

“Fair enough.”

A clerk called their names.

“Pedro Salvador?”

“Liyanna Anthony?”

Both stood at the same time.

“This way, please.”

The ceremony lasted less than five minutes.

The judge smiled kindly as they stood before his desk.

“Marriage is built on honesty, trust, and commitment,” he began.

Pedro swallowed.

Liyanna stared at the floor.

“If you’ve chosen each other freely, we’ll begin.”

Pedro stole a glance at her.

She looked just as nervous as he felt.

The judge continued.

“Pedro Salvador, do you take Liyanna Anthony to be your lawful wife?”

Pedro hesitated.

Just for a heartbeat.

“…I do.”

“Liyanna Anthony, do you take Pedro Salvador to be your lawful husband?”

She looked directly into Pedro’s eyes.

“I do.”

The words echoed louder than either of them expected.

The judge smiled.

“Congratulations.”

He signed the certificate.

“So…that’s it?”

The judge chuckled.

“That’s it.”

Just like that…

Two strangers had become husband and wife.

At least on paper.

Outside the courthouse, neither moved.

Liyanna stared at the marriage certificate inside its protective folder.

“This feels…”

“Unreal?”

She nodded.

Pedro exhaled slowly.

“We can still back out.”

She looked up.

“You’d lose your apartment.”

“You’d lose yours too.”

Another pause.

Finally she closed the folder.

“No.”

Pedro raised an eyebrow.

“I’m in.”

He smiled.

“So am I.”

She extended her hand again.

“No turning back?”

He shook it.

“No turning back.”

A week later, they received the email.

Congratulations!

Your application for married student housing has been approved.

Apartment 3B.

Move-in date: Saturday.

Liyanna called Pedro before he’d even finished reading the message.

“We got it!”

“I know.”

“We actually got it!”

“I can read.”

“I mean…” she laughed. “We’re officially roommates.”

Pedro corrected her.

“Married roommates.”

“Oh, that’s somehow worse.”

Saturday arrived faster than either of them expected.

Apartment 3B wasn’t luxurious.

But compared to their previous apartments, it felt like a dream.

Two bedrooms.

One bathroom.

A small kitchen with white cabinets.

A cozy living room with large windows overlooking oak trees draped in Spanish moss.

Liyanna spun around slowly.

“I love it.”

Pedro nodded.

“It feels…”

“Like home?”

He smiled.

“Maybe.”

They spent the afternoon unpacking.

Pedro assembled furniture while Liyanna attempted to organize the kitchen.

Attempted.

Twenty minutes later…

“Where do measuring cups go?” she called.

“In the drawer.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Try another drawer.”

“There are six drawers!”

Pedro walked into the kitchen.

She had somehow managed to open every cabinet.

He couldn’t help laughing.

“What?”

“You’ve been here twenty minutes.”

“I’m exploring.”

“You’ve created chaos.”

She folded her arms.

“I prefer the word ‘creative organization.’”

Pedro gently took the measuring cups from her hands.

“Watch.”

Within seconds, everything fit neatly into place.

She stared.

“…Are you secretly fifty years old?”

“My aunt taught me.”

“I’m offended by how organized you are.”

“I’ll survive.”

Later that evening, they ordered pizza.

The apartment was still filled with unopened boxes.

They sat on the living room floor because they hadn’t unpacked the dining table yet.

Liyanna held up a slice.

“A toast.”

Pedro lifted his soda can.

“To surviving.”

She smiled.

“To surviving.”

They clinked them together.

For the first time since this whole arrangement began…

It almost felt normal.

The peaceful moment didn’t last.

A knock sounded at the front door.

Pedro frowned.

“Were you expecting someone?”

“No.”

He opened the door.

Standing outside was a cheerful woman in her late fifties carrying a freshly baked apple pie.

“Hello!”

She beamed.

“I’m Mrs. Whitaker from Apartment 3A.”

Pedro smiled politely.

“Nice to meet you.”

“I heard newlyweds moved in!”

Before Pedro could respond, Liyanna appeared beside him.

Mrs. Whitaker gasped happily.

“Oh, aren’t you two adorable!”

She handed over the pie.

“I’ve lived here fifteen years. We always welcome new couples.”

Liyanna accepted it with a grateful smile.

“Thank you so much.”

Mrs. Whitaker looked between them.

“So…”

Pedro felt his heartbeat quicken.

“How did you two meet?”

Liyanna and Pedro exchanged a split-second glance.

Neither had prepared for that question.

Liyanna smiled brightly.

“Actually…”

Pedro answered at the exact same time.

“At a bookstore.”

“…In biology class.”

Silence.

Mrs. Whitaker blinked.

Pedro looked at Liyanna.

Liyanna looked at Pedro.

Then both burst into nervous laughter.

Mrs. Whitaker smiled politely, though her puzzled expression lingered.

“Well,” she said at last, “however it happened, I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”

After she left, Pedro slowly closed the door.

The apartment was silent for exactly three seconds.

Then Liyanna doubled over laughing.

“A bookstore?”

“You said biology class!”

“We don’t even study biology!”

“You panicked first!”

“You panicked louder!”

Pedro laughed until his sides hurt.

When the laughter finally faded, they looked at each other.

Liyanna wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“We’re terrible at this.”

“The absolute worst.”

She pointed toward the couch.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“What?”

“We write our story.”

“Our…story?”

“Our fake love story. Where we met. First date. Favorite restaurant. Everything.”

Pedro nodded.

“Good idea.”

“If we’re going to fool everyone…”

“We have to know each other well enough to fool ourselves.”

She smiled.

For the first time since they signed the marriage certificate, the word husband didn’t feel quite so strange.

And somewhere deep inside, a tiny voice whispered a thought Pedro wasn’t ready to admit.

Maybe pretending was going to be much harder than he expected.