She sat. He pulled out a chair across from her and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, the way his father used to sit when something required real thinking. What would fix this? She laughed. Hollow.
A husband. He didn't laugh. She looked at him. He said very carefully, I'm serious. The room went quiet.
You're not serious, she said. I'm asking a question. Would it fix it? She was quiet for a moment. A legitimate marriage to an American citizen would restart the process.
It's not a guarantee, but it's it's the most direct path, yes. Then marry me. She stared at him. Not, he said quickly, not like that. I'm not This isn't He exhaled.
I'm saying I'm here. I'm American. I'm not going anywhere. Nadia knows you. You know her.
We already live across the hall from each other. It makes sense practically. If you need a marriage on paper to protect your life here, then I'll give you that. You don't know what you're saying. I know exactly what I'm saying.
Ethan, her voice cracked. This is my life, my actual life. If something goes wrong, if they investigate, if they dig, then we don't let anything go wrong. That's not She pressed her hands flat on the table. That's not something you can just decide.
No, he said. But it's something we can try. Another long silence. Then she said quietly, Why would you do this for me? He didn't have a clean answer for that.
He thought about it for a moment, thought about Camille's words, thought about his grandmother, thought about what it felt like to watch someone carry something too heavy alone when you had two hands and nothing particular to do with them. Because it's the right thing, he said finally. And I'm tired of doing nothing when something matters. They told her attorney. They told no one else.
They signed a marriage certificate on a cold January afternoon at the Manhattan Marriage Bureau with two clerks as witnesses and Nadia drawing in her sketchbook in the plastic waiting chairs, not entirely sure what was happening, but certain it wasn't a party. On the way home, Nadia looked up from the backseat and said, "Are you guys in love? " Isabelle opened her mouth. Ethan said, "We're good friends who are helping each other out. " Nadia considered this with the gravity of a 7-year-old taking a question seriously. "Okay," she said. "Then, can Isabelle have the room next to mine? " They moved her things in that weekend.