Page 100 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

“Sammy,” I plead. “Just say yes, and everything else can be worked out. Say yes to us. Take my hand and trust me to take care of everything else.”

Emotion shutters over her eyes, but after a long drawn out minute, she shakes her head softly. She brushes a hand over her hair and straightens her outfit, then turning away, she murmurs, “I love you Sam. But I can’t survive you again.”

She walks away quickly, pushing the stroller ahead of her until she meets up with the blonde woman, then they walk into the room Ed came out of and they disappear.

“Go!” Angelo smacks me on the shoulder. “No matter what, you still need to go in there. They need the daddy on paper.”

“Ang--”

“Go.” He shoves me forward and follows close behind me. I turn to watch my whole family as they step forward and follow us in.

I take a deep breath as we enter the chamber that is about ninety-percent dark mahogany wood. This isn’t a criminal trial. There’s no jury, no fleet of lawyers, no frills. It’s just one single judge as he smiles and sits upon his throne, then there’s Ed sitting at one table, and Sammy and the young guy from earlier sitting at the other.

As though I belong there, I move toward my wife and pull out a chair beside her. I promised that no matter what happens between us, I’m still making sure Lily goes home with her. I’m a man, and even broken hearted, I’m keeping my promises.

Sammy’s eyes flip up to me, but after a quick glance, she looks back to the front. She’s shutting me out. But she’s allowing me to be here.

“Ms. Ricardo,” the judge booms happily. “I’m so glad this day has finally arrived. I can admit that I’ve been following Lily’s case for a while.”

She nods gently. “Your Honor.”

He smiles at us, unknowing about the turmoil and heartbreak slinging around the room. He can’t possibly know the sharp slices of my heart as it pierces my chest from within. He can’t know that I won’t be going home with these girls tonight.

But I’ll let him believe that everything is fine.

If I can’t have Sammy Ricardo as my own, I’ll still do everything in my power to make her happy.

“I’ve gone over your documents already, Ms. Ricardo. Mr. Nece scheduled a meeting earlier this week and we’ve gone over the formalities. Today is simply about stamping your paperwork.”

“Just like that?”

He smiles kindly. “It’s as easy as that. Unless, of course, you have something to add to the case.”

Sammy’s chest shudders with emotion. She places her right hand on the stroller Lily lies in, and her left blindly reaches out for mine until our pinkies link. “No, Your Honor. Stamp away. I’m ready to take my daughter home.”

My heart hammers in my chest at her contact. Even saying no to me, she still reaches for me for comfort. That’s got to mean something! She tattooed us on her skin. That has to mean something. She still wears my ring!

“Alright, today marks the day Lilian Rosalee Lytto becomes Lilian Rosalee Ricardo.” He looks to Sammy and smiles proudly. “Do you promise to love her and take care of her for the rest of your life?”

Sammy hiccups with emotion. “I promise. For the rest of my life.”

“And you, Mr. Turner? From this day forward, Lilian is your daughter. Do you understand the weight of that decision? Do you vow to love and protect her?”

I nod as my heart simultaneously thunders with hurt and love. Hurt, because Sammy doesn’t want me. Love, because Lily will be mine. On paper, at least. “I swear, Your Honor. I’ll protect her with my life.”

He quite literally picks up a stamp, flourishing it in the air dramatically as he smiles.

“Ah, actually.” Sammy stops him. His eyes come to hers, hers come to mine, and mine search hers for the final blow. The hammer is about to drop. I can feel it. She turns back to him shyly, then straightening her spine and tucking loose hair behind her ears, she smiles shakily. “Turner. Lilian Rosalee Turner. As per my husband’s name.”

Epilogue

I stand in front of fifty or so of my closest and dearest friends and family. My neck itches from my stiff collar, and my heart pounds so hard I’m legitimately scared it might burst out of my chest.

In the very front row, my Rosie stands on her Uncle Jack’s lap, giggling and smacking her cousin on the face with a toy Mac probably stole for her, but gifted to her on her birthday anyway.

My eyes scan the smiling crowd as they all look at me with excitement, but then the music changes and suddenly I’m forgotten. Last week’s trash. Nobody gives a shit.

But that’s alright by me, because my bride steps into the aisle, and her smile radiates pure, unblemished happiness.

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