Page 9 of Assigned

He heaves an exaggerated sigh, one that shakes his jowls in a hilariously awful way. A tiny sound escapes Riley, making my stomach clench. I squeeze my own hands in my lap and pray I don’t lose it.

“The rings,” he says, like he’s irritated I didn’t read his mind. “Have you received the rings?”

His question throws cold water on my amusement. Crap. I’d been so brain fogged when I read Riley’s name I forgot my envelope had our wedding rings in them.

Wedding rings. Holy shit. We’re actually doing this. “Yes, sir. They are upstairs in my room.”

I risk a glance at Riley. Her shoulders have stopped shaking, but now she’s jiggling her leg, completely silent and looking everywhere but at me or the officiant. I place a hand on her forearm. “You okay?”

When she offers me a weak smile, she looks a little pale. “Just nervous.”

The officiant looks between the two of us, then explains he is here to both witness our consent and to validate the marriage for legal purposes. I lace my hands together, palms sweating. The fact I’m about to get married again hits me like a wrecking ball. And this time I’m not so sure it’s to the right person. I take a deep breath and remind myself this is for Mason.

Riley is in no better shape than I am, considering how much her leg is bouncing as we recite the vows, and how her voice rises in pitch every so often. When we finish, the officiant hands us a paper. “I need both of you to look over the marriage certificate. Make sure your information is accurate and then sign it.”

I take the paper and glance over it. Everything is perfect so I grab a pen from the table and swallow past the lump in my throat as I scribble my signature on the empty line. Then I hand the certificate over to Riley. She chews her bottom lip as she reads over it, her leg bouncing faster now. She looks over at me, then takes the pen and signs her name. When she’s done, she hands it back to the officiant, who completes his section.

As the man packs up his briefcase, Riley half-raises her hand as if she’s in school and wants to ask a question. “Um, do you know when the medical benefits will kick in?”

I frown. What prompted that question? And why not ask me? I turn to face her. “Should take a couple of days. No longer than a week. Your name will also be added to my bank account and I’ll have an ATM card for you too.”

At that last part, her eyes narrow. “I don’t need your money. I can take care of myself.”

The officiant straightens and clears his throat. “Ma’am, service members have a financial obligation to their spouses. It’s in the contract.”

Riley blinks rapidly. “I, uh, it was confusing.”

She was never one for details. Even in school, Riley was the person who would miss that a question had a second part to it and end up only getting half credit on her work. But I’d read through the contract. It’s there for our protection. Nothing shady about it. Even if it took me a couple of read-throughs to understand the financial section myself.

She turns back to me. “I get it, but understand I won’t be using the ATM card at all.”

I shrug. “Fine by me.”

When the officiant is done collecting his belongings, I walk him out. Once the door is shut, my gaze falls back to Riley, who is sitting stiff as a board on the couch, with no trace of the earlier laughter to hide her obvious misery.

My gut clenches as dread washes over me. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe I should’ve rejected the match and taken my chances... for both our sakes.

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