Page 24 of Shameless in Vegas

Natalia dips slightly as though curtsying before royalty—which honestly isn’t a terrible idea. “Muchas gracias.”

I notice Lili sitting at the table with her eyes nervously wide and her mouth set in a firm, flat line. She forces a wincing grin and lifts her hands to offer me two sardonic thumbs up.

I clear my throat and look at my parents, firmly pressing my palm against Natalia’s back. “Mamá. Papá. I’d like you to meet Natalia, my…” I cough into my fist. “My wife.”

The delight in Mamá’s face freezes in place like she’s a painting, and the cordial expression Papá has on quickly fades to flat and neutral. Behind them, Lili’s awkward grin has morphed into a full-on grimace, and she reaches for her glass of wine to take a large swig.

“Discúlpeme,” Papá says, deadpan, yet frigid.

The freight train is barreling toward me with shot brakes, and there’s no escaping it, so I might as well throw all my weight toward it so I can go out swinging.

“My wife,” I repeat, slipping my hand to the side of Natalia’s waist and drawing her close to my side. “Since Isla and Malachi were eloping in Vegas, Colin and Elle thought it would be fun to go ahead and do it then, too. So me and Natalia did as well. It was great. Really memorable.”

Back at the table, Lili snorts behind her hand, but nobody’s paying attention to her.

Mamá gives her head a small shake. “Wait! Are they still planning to have a real wedding later this year?”

Ilovemy mamá. Always focusing on thebestdetails.

“Yep,” I say easily. “They just thought it would be fun to do a Vegas wedding since we were there.”

“Excuse me,” Papá interjects, “but did you even know this woman before youmarriedher?”

“Oh yeah, we knew each other for a little while before that,” I assure him, because little white lies never hurt anyone, anda little whileis technically true—even if it’s only a few hours that I can’t actually remember.

Papá isseething, but he stays quiet long enough for Mamá to digest everything to her satisfaction, and then she goes through the motions of exactly the response I was hoping for and expecting.

“Well, mygoodness.” She chortles, clutching her face as she reaches for Natalia to pull her close and kiss her cheeks. “¡Dios mio!Howwonderful!” She wraps her arms around Natalia for a full hug, and Natalia reciprocates.

As they do, I catch a glimpse of Natalia’s face. Her brows knit subtly and there’s a sudden, slight sheen on her eyes. I recall what she said the other night about her parents not being around anymore. She didn’t say it explicitly, but the look on her face hints at the idea that they probably passed away, and a pang resounds in my chest.

“¡Discúlpeme, Fortuna!” Papá bellows at my mother, who doesn’t even flinch as she continues to coo her excitement over the fact that I’m finally married. “This isunacceptable.”

Mamá releases Natalia and strokes her hair, sweeping it over one shoulder. “OhErnesto. Why can’t you ever just behappyabout—”

“There isnothingto be happy about right now!” he snaps, then points his sausage-sized finger at Natalia’s face. “We have never seen this woman before! For all we know, she has targeted him and conned him into marrying her so she can get access to his inheritance.” He cuts his flashing, russet eyes toward me. “Tell me,hijo. In that pea brain of yours, did you think to have her sign a prenuptial agreement before you went through with this lunacy?”

A tingling surge of rage shoots through my whole body, and I pull Natalia to my side again. “Don’t point at her, and don’t talk about her like that. I get that you’re pissed at me, but you’re not gonna treat her with anything less than the mannersyourequire for the rest ofus.”

His fist flies forward to grab the knot of my tie, and he drags me away from Natalia and toward the hall, cursing under his breath the entire way.

“Natalia…querida,” I call over my shoulder, “have a seat and get some food. I’ll be back soon.”

Papá swears again and grumbles as he drags me all the way to his private study on the opposite end of the manor. Once inside, he swings me around by my collar and throws me against a leather sofa. Papá’s a little shorter than me, and I’ve definitely got more muscle than him, but I know better than to try to fight with him.

I sit up straight on the sofa, adjust my tie and lapels, and wait for the shitstorm.

He paces, his shoes thudding on the hardwood as he growls in the back of his throat. He passes back and forth in front of his desk, shaking his head, three times before he finally speaks.

“What thefuckis wrong with you,hijo?”

My eyes glaze over.

I have heardthatphrase more than anything else in my life.

Papá stops pacing and turns to me, hands on his hips. “Who is she?”

I do a slow blink. “Natalia Luna EspositoReyes,” I say, drawing out her string of names and adding an extra roll of the R on the nameIgave her.

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