Page 92 of Invisible Bars
“You don’t owe him shit. Not an explanation. Not an apology. Not a damn thing.”
Reverend Ellis blinked furiously, flustered. “I… I didn’t know?—”
Imanio stepped to him like a storm in human form.
“You didn’t need to. You were instructed not to stare, speak to her, or question her outbursts. That’s strike one.”
Reverend Ellis looked between us, visibly sweating now. His hands trembled as he pulled the wedding script from his bible, trying to recover what was left of his dignity.
Imanio’s eyes didn’t leave him.
“Now, proceed… before I decide a replacement is needed.”
The poor man swallowed hard, nodded, and fumbled for his opening line like he’d never spoken to two humans in his life. And I just stood there mortified… but at least he wasn’t staring anymore. The witnesses hadn’t said a single word… not even a whisper. Clearly, they’d been briefed—well—and they weren’t about to mess up their payday by doing anything extra.
The ceremony began without any music.
No vows; just the legal words.
It was stripped down and cold… business-like. I wasn’t even sure if I was supposed to say, “I do,” or just sign something. But when the man asked, “Do you, Naji Ali, take Imanio Kors to be your lawful husband?”, I glanced at Imanio, who was already looking at me... silent and expressionless.But beneath the cool surface, I caught a glimpse of something… unguarded.
My head tilted slightly on reflex. “This is i-i-insane.I’minsane,” I murmured under my breath. Then louder, with shaky resolve, I answered, “Y-Yes… I do.”
Imanio’s mouth tensed, his expression tightening as the reverend turned to him.
“And do you, Imanio Kors?—”
“I do,” he said immediately, with no hesitation.
After that, we exchanged rings. The paperwork came next. My fingers trembled as I picked up the pen. I stared at the signature line like it might bite me, then scribbled my name with a shaky flourish that didn’t feel like me at all. It felt like someone else’s hand doing the work—someone braver… or dumber… maybe both.
Imanio signed next, and did so like it was just another business deal.
The reverend handed him our marriage license—his hands still slightly trembling, and rightfully so. Imanio didn’t even look at it. He folded it neatly, tucked it into his back pocket and gave a single nod… and that was it.
No rice thrown. No crowd clapping. No kiss to seal it.
I’m a wife now. Worse—his.
Mrs. Imanio Kors.
The name sat heavy on my tongue, like something I wasn’t sure I was allowed to say out loud yet. It sounded powerful, dangerous… permanent. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or the beginning of my very own horror film. Because being Mrs. Imanio Kors didn’t come with a veil and roses—it came withsecrets, silence, and a man who looked at me like I was both his soft spot and his weapon.
“You’re free to leave,” Imanio announced coldly to the reverend. “But remember what I said—not a word to anyone, not even God, unless he signs an NDA.”
The man gave a frantic nod and turned so fast he tripped over the leg of a nearby chair, nearly dropping his Bible as he scrambled for the door like his life depended on it.
Shaking his head at the pastor’s clumsiness, Imanio strolled over to couple, pulled out his wallet, and slipped each of them a few crisp hundred-dollar bills. Their eyes went wide like they’d just been handed a second chance. They didn’t waste a second thanking him—grins flashing, nodding rapidly, shoving the cash into their pockets before hurrying out of the house like Imanio might’ve had a quick change of heart.
I watched them leave, silently hoping they'd use the money for food… maybe shelter; just something that didn’t come in a brown bag or a dirty needle. But I didn’t know them. Maybe they’d been good people who just hit rock bottom… or maybe rock bottom hit them first.
Once they were out of earshot, I turned to Imanio.
“Wh-Where did you find them?” I asked, brows furrowed.
“Around the way.” He shrugged.
“And you… you couldn’t find s-somebody elsemoredesperate?” I asked, sarcasm barely masking my unease.
