Chapter 222: Chapter 222 Official
Author
Three days later, Dominic and Elara finally boarded the plane back to the States.
By the time they landed, it was nearly noon. Elara’s face was still pale, that kind of bone-deep exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix.
“Babe, eat something. You look like a ghost.” He passed her a takeaway coffee and a bagel.
She didn’t bother responding. Just shot him a look.
"You really don’t know why I look like a ghost?"
The moment he’d brought up making a pup, he’d turned into a different man. Three solid days. The curtains in that hotel room never opened once.
Their routine was simple: he fed her, she "fed" him. Over and over. Who could survive that?
Dominic grinned. "Okay, maybe that was my fault. First time trying to be a dad. Got carried away."
"I’m not even pregnant yet."
"Details."
"Next two weeks, we’re sleeping in separate rooms."
His face dropped. "Babe, no couple trying for a pup sleeps in separate rooms. That’s like a wolf refusing to hunt."
"Fine. Then you wake up an hour early every day and hit the gym with me."
She stopped walking and turned around.
"Excuse me?"
He shrugged. "You need the stamina. I wore you out in three days. What happens when we’re trying for real? A whole month? You’ll pass out on me."
"I work out."
"Not enough, clearly."
She stared at him. Then she smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile.
"Fine. But you’re gonna regret it when I outlift you."
She turned around and kept walking, leaving him standing there
He opened his mouth. Closed it.
--
Some people dreaded the end of the holidays. Others couldn’t wait for the County Clerk’s Office to open back up.
Yardley stood outside Nancy’s apartment building in a tailored black suit, the collar crisp, the papers in his hand already smoothed flat from how many times he’d checked them.
He looked like he was about to close a business deal, except for the way his thumb kept tapping against the edge of the folder.
Nancy came down a few minutes later, wearing something simple — a light blouse under her coat, hair pulled back. She’d changed outfits three times before settling on this one. Not too much. Not too little. Just right.
They hadn’t talked about it, but when they saw each other, they both noticed: white underneath. Both of them.
"You sure you don’t want to tell your family first?" Yardley asked. His voice was calm, but his hand was still tapping.
Nancy shook her head. "Let’s pick up the certificate first. We’ll tell them after."
She didn’t care anymore whether her aunt and uncle approved. She was keeping her son. And Yardley? He was the bonus that came with the package.
The County Clerk’s Office was busier than she expected. A line stretched almost to the door.
Couples in all shapes and sizes, some holding hands, some arguing quietly, some staring at their phones like they were waiting for a sign to run.
Nancy stood beside Yardley and watched the back of a woman’s head three people ahead.
The woman’s hand was linked with her partner’s, their fingers wound together so tight the knuckles were white.
Nancy looked down at her own hands. Empty. She didn’t reach for Yardley’s. Not yet.
The line moved faster than she thought it would.
Fifteen minutes and they were at the counter.
The clerk was a middle-aged woman with reading glasses on a chain and a voice that said she’d done this ten thousand times before.
"Names?"
"Yardley Wolfe."
"Nancy Miller."
The clerk typed without looking up.
Papers were slid across the counter.
Sign here. Initial there. No questions. No congratulations.
Just a low hum of fluorescent lights and the scratch of a pen.
Nancy’s hand trembled slightly when she signed. She hoped no one noticed.
When they walked back out, the certificate was in her hand.
She stared at it. The seal was crisp and official, pressed deep into the paper. It didn’t feel real.
She half expected a gust of wind to rip it out of her fingers and carry it away, proving that she didn’t get to have nice things.
She tightened her grip.
They walked back to the car in silence. Nancy buckled her seatbelt and was about to put the certificate in her bag when Yardley’s phone buzzed.
AlphaHunter.
Yardley picked up. "Yeah."
"Did you get it?"
"Just walked out."
"Send me a photo. I want to see it."
Yardley hung up and opened the family chat. He added Nancy.
"You send it. He wants to see the certificate."
She looked at the group chat.
Six people. Clean profile pictures. Easy to tell who was who.
She held up her phone and took a careful photo of the marriage certificate. Made sure the seal was visible.
Made sure the lighting was decent. Hit send before she could overthink it.
A few seconds later, a response came through.
Alpha Hunter: [Good.]
That was it. Just one word. But it was enough.
Yardley glanced at the screen. The corner of his mouth lifted.
"Done, Mr. Wolfe."
He pulled out of the parking spot. "Mm."
A beat.
"We should probably fix that," he said. "Can’t call each other ’Mr.’ and ’Miss’ forever. Especially not in front of Orion."
Nancy thought about it. "What should I call you then?"
"Yardley works."
She tested it in her head. It felt strange. Not bad. Just different.
"Alright."
--
When Nancy walked into the office with the marriage certificate in her bag, it still didn’t feel real.
The wedding had been the day after Christmas. Yardley made a few calls, and a judge showed up at the house in jeans and a sweater to officiate.
They signed the papers, said the vows. Everything was legal.
But the official copy didn’t come until this morning — the first day the County Clerk’s Office opened after the holidays. They got there right when the doors opened, grabbed the certified copy, and had the whole thing wrapped up in under an hour.
By nine-thirty, she was sitting at her desk. The certificate sat in her bag, still warm from the printer.
Everything looked the same. Her computer. Her coffee mug. The stack of paperwork she’d been ignoring since before Christmas.
But nothing felt the same.
