Page 138 of A Temporary Forever

I sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I can’t relax.”

“Okay, enough of distracting you with words.” Caleb hits the button and the partition rises.

Before I get my brain to string together a coherent thought, he drops to his knees, yanks me to the edge of the seat.

“Caleb,” I protest.

“Shut up and be a good girl. We have just enough time to make you come.”

I stumble out of the car, avoiding Peter’s eyes. I know he can’t hear us, but the amount of times we’ve raised the divider when he drives us is a bit embarrassing.

Caleb takes my hand and kisses it. “Ready?”

Strangely, his talented tongue distracted me for the ride, and it also relaxed me enough for the enormous knot in my stomach to soften a bit. I nod.

“Okay, wife, let’s get you that green card.”

We enter the gray offices that haven’t seen an interior designer or a woman’s touch in ages.

Caleb deals with an annoyed officer who sends us to the second floor, where we’re supposed to wait.

My heart echoes in my temples as I follow him, while my breathing, my vision and my head feel like I’m submerged underwater.

My husband moves with confidence. I doubt he’s ever been to a government office like this, but somehow he fits. Even wearing probably the most expensive suit in the entire building, he blends in.

We get to the second floor, where people of different races sit around, bored and grim, waiting in a long hallway.

Caleb squeezes my hand, and I force myself to give him a smile.

Merde, I have to nail it. If for nothing else than for him. He married me as a favor, and since then he’s done more, so much more.

The least I can do is to go through this interview and get my stay in the US sorted out, so we can move forward.

“I’m good.” I bite my lip and keep shaking my headback and forth, as if that will lend credibility to my statement.

“I know.” He kisses my temple, holding me closer. His phone buzzes. “It’s Cressard.”

Caleb lets go of me to answer, and immediately frowns. My heart rate spikes.

“Shit, Cressard, then send someone else,” he hisses.

Dominic is not coming. I’ll be at the interview all by myself. I squeeze my handbag, but my hand still shakes of its own volition. Stumbling, I slam against the wall, hoping for support while my knees go weak.

Caleb hangs up. He circles his hands around both my biceps, half holding me upright and half lending support. I think.

“It’s going to be okay, Celeste. You’ll be okay. Just answer the questions and then march out of there.”

The oxygen is barely hitting the top of my lungs. “Where the fuck is he?”

“One of his foster kids needed… Never mind. He’s not here, but it changes nothing. I’ll be waiting here. You focus on that. Okay?”

I can’t speak. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

“Okay?” Caleb growls, his voice demanding.

It does the trick, and snaps me out of my spiraling breakdown. “Okay. He wouldn’t be answering for me, anyway. But he has all the proof with him.”

“He’s taking care of that, don’t worry. This is aformality.” He kisses my forehead, and I decide to believe him.

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