Chapter 28

28

LUCA

I may never be able to feel my hand again with the way Tori’s squeezing it while Preston talks to the secretary at the immigration office.

She directs us to the waiting room—the same one we waited in just over a month ago for our initial interview. So much has changed since then. For the better, definitely. But this next few hours could potentially wreck that.

“Wasn’t Zach planning to come?” Preston asks as he takes a seat.

“Yeah.” I check my phone for any messages from him. “He must’ve gotten caught up.”

Tori grimaces at me, and I know what she’s thinking. Zach chickened out. He’s been hard to get ahold of since Tori kind of got after him for his part in all of this and we discussed considering telling immigration the truth.

“They should call us in in the next few minutes,” Preston says, taking a look at his watch. Despite working with him for months, this is the first time we’ve met him. He’s every bit the clean-cut lawyer I expected, with precisely combed hair, an Armani suit, and a crisp, light-blue dress shirt. He’s here to act as legal counsel to us, which we have a right to, apparently. “I’m gonna take a quick bathroom break before we go in.”

Tori and I both nod, and he walks down the hallway.

I’m grateful to have a couple minutes with just the two of us.

“You’re crushing my hand,” I say.

“I know,” she says, her grip not loosening at all. “Consider it payback for crushing me when we met.”

“I need that hand to catch footballs, you know,” I say.

Her eyes lock on mine, and both of us are thinking the same thing: not anymore.

“What do you think?” she asks.

I hold her gaze, searching those beautiful brown eyes that have become a fixture in my life. I look at those eyes more than any other single thing, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “I think we should do it.”

“Me too.” She smiles slightly. “We started this thing being bold. Let’s end it the same way.”

I smile, and we lean in for a slow, soft kiss. I pull back and look intently at her. “Whatever happens today, nothing can change things between us.”

She nods, covering my hand on her cheek with hers.

We’ve decided to tell immigration the truth. It’s risky. Really risky. But we both feel better about doing that than trying to lie our way through this maze anymore.

“Luca and Victoria Callahan?” the secretary says. “They’re ready for you.”

Preston jogs up just then and signals for us to lead the way.

My heart thumps as I take hold of Tori’s hand again, and we make our way into the interview room.

There are two people seated behind the table, neither of them familiar. Both have folders open in front of them with an array of papers inside. They greet us with the same calm, emotionless voices as the officer from our last interview, and Preston introduces himself as our counsel.

He takes a seat just to my side and shoots us an encouraging smile.

“Thank you for being here, Mr. and Mrs. Callahan,” says the man on the left. “We’ll begin by asking you some questions together, at which point, we will have Mr. Callahan exit while we ask Mrs. Callahan questions, and then vice versa.”

Tori and I look at each other, and she gives a subtle smile and nod, letting me know she’s still on board with telling them the truth.

“If that’s all clear,” the man continues, “we’ll get started.” He looks at us for confirmation.

“It’s clear, sir,” I say.

“Great, then let’s go ahead with the first question.” He looks to the other officer, who shifts his glasses and fixes his gaze on us.

“How did you two meet?” he asks.

Tori smiles with a hint of nostalgia. “By chance. Happy chance. I was walking back to work after grabbing lunch, but I had my headphones in and didn’t look both ways when the walk signal went on. I stepped into the street just as a semi was about to blow through the red light. Luca grabbed me out of harm’s way. And forced me to the hospital.” She looks at me with a little twinkle in her eyes.

Her grip and her voice have relaxed now, and I breathe deeply, trying to match her energy.

Both officers scribble down notes. “Who proposed, and how did it happen?”

My chest clenches, but Tori holds my gaze.

“I did,” she says without taking her eyes from mine.

The officer on the left’s head comes up, his brows raised just a hint. “Can you describe how that happened for us?”

Tori smiles like she’s remembering that day at her house when she made the suggestion. It’s crazy to think back to it, to how insane the idea was and what strangers we were to each other. And yet, even then, I knew on some level that Tori was special.

“I kind of twisted his arm,” she says, turning back to the officers. “Which is pretty impressive, since you can see how big his arms are.”

“My arm didn’t require twisting.”

Tori cocks a brow at me.

I take in a breath. It’s now or never. “The truth, officers, is that we agreed to get married that day for my sake.”

“And mine,” Tori hurries to say.

They look thoroughly confused.

“I was bored,” she says. “Bored with myself, really. And I was so grateful to Luca for saving my life—for giving me a second chance to do life right.”

I shoot her a look that says don’t try to take the fall for this. She thinks she’s in a safer position than I am to take the blame. But the blame doesn’t belong with her. If it weren’t for me and my past decisions, this never would’ve happened. Tori and I might have parted ways and never seen each other again.

It’s an awful thought.

“I’m sorry,” says the officer on the left. “I’m not sure I follow.”

There’s a knock on the door, and it opens. The secretary stands in the gap. “Sorry for the disturbance, officers, but I have a person here with an urgent message for you. He says it’s regarding this case.”

I glance at Tori, but she’s every bit as confused as I am. Confused and nervous.

The officer on the left frowns, then motions with a hand. “Send them in.”

The secretary nods and steps out of the way, and Zach appears in her place, looking slick as ever in a suit. He’s got a stack of papers in hand.

He opens the door and steps inside, then moves out of the way.

My jaw goes slack as Bennett and Dallin appear in the doorway behind him.

Zach walks over to the table and puts out his hand. “I’m Zach Moretti, Luca Callahan’s agent. Pardon the interruption. This is really important, though.”

Both officers take his hand with obvious reluctance. “We’re in the middle of an interview, sir.”

“I understand. And I don’t mean to take up much of your time, but what I have to say affects the interview.” He slips the stack of papers in his hand onto the table between the officers. “These are character statements from Mrs. Callahan’s family and the San Diego Admirals.”

The officer on the right’s brow knits as he takes the stack in hand and flips through a few of the papers.

“Zach,” Preston says with a shaky laugh, clearly worried this stunt is going to potentially cost us.

“Just a minute,” Zach says, and he turns to Tori and me. “Are you guys still planning to…?” He doesn’t finish, but I know what he’s asking.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Good.” He turns back to the table. “Before you proceed with this case, it’s important for you to know a couple of things.” He straightens. “First, if it weren’t for me, these two wouldn’t be married.”

The immigration officers stare at him, nonplussed. I take it Stokes interviews don’t generally get hijacked.

I glance at Bennett and Dallin, who are standing about ten feet back, their faces impassive. Bennett must sense my gaze on him because his eyes flick to mine.

I send him a questioning look, but he just winks.

“In that stack of papers,” Zach continues, “you’ll find a statement from Luca’s lawyer, James Monroe, familiarizing you with the specifics of the situation and charges that started this whole…situation. You’ll also find a result of the appeal Luca and Mr. Monroe filed, which was granted about an hour ago, meaning Luca Callahan no longer has a criminal record.”

My breath hitches, Tori’s hand tightens around mine with a vengeance, and Zach looks at me with a smile.

Is he serious right now? He has to be. He’s not dumb enough to hand these officers forged legal paperwork.

“He never should have been convicted in the first place,” Zach continues, addressing the immigration officers. “But he was, and his request for expungement was denied, which put him in the position of not being eligible for the visa that would have made him eligible to play in the NFL.”

To my surprise, the immigration officers are listening carefully to Zach, who, to his credit, is a skilled speaker. Even I’m invested in this story, and it’s my story.

“As he and I discussed the options,” he continues, “or lack thereof once the expungement petition was denied, I mentioned that marriage was really the only route. It was meant as a joke, but I wasn’t clear enough about that. So, when Luca and Tori showed up at my office a week later, married, I was shocked. Shocked, yet suddenly hopeful—hopeful that all the work Luca had done, and all the work I had done, might not be in vain. And in that state of hope, I chose not to tell them how serious their choice was. Because, let me assure you, they were ignorant of that.” He chuckles and leans a little closer, as though he’s about to share a private joke with them. “I mean, neither of them have even seen The Proposal , which, as you know, is the entire basis of my generation’s knowledge about green card marriages.”

The immigration officer on the left shifts in his seat, apparently starting to get impatient. Looks like Luca and I aren’t the only ones who haven’t seen the movie.

“The point of this all”—Zach straightens again, apparently sensing that his joke didn’t land—“is to help you understand that the bulk of responsibility here lies with me. Had Mr. and Mrs. Callahan realized the gravity of what they were doing, they wouldn’t have gotten married. But they did get married. And they sit in front of you today in a genuine, loving, romantic marriage. They also happen to be important and contributing members of this community, which is why I’ve brought that stack of papers and invited these two men to join us.” He steps aside and gestures for them to come forward.

Bennett steps forward first.

“My name is Max Bennett,” he says. “I play with Callahan on the San Diego Admirals. We’re both wide receivers, so we spend a lot of time together. But I was primed not to like Callahan before we even met. I saw him as a threat to my starting spot. And I talked a lot of sh—“ He stops, glances at Zach, then corrects himself. “A lot of smack to him because of that, doing everything I could to press his buttons. But the man is impossible to rattle. Instead of snapping like I hoped he would, he just worked harder. He’s been a team player from the start, and”—he clears his throat, looking a little uncomfortable—“I’ve grown to respect him. Against my will.” His eyes dart to me.

I smile. “Likewise. Also against my will.”

Bennett chuckles, then looks at the officers again and sobers up. “In my opinion, it would be a mistake to deport Luca Callahan. Especially if you’re Admirals fans.” He steps back and urges Dallin forward.

“My name is Dallin Rivers,” he says, less confident than Bennett. “I met the Callahans at a sports camp Summit Reach Youth Center put on at the end of summer. I didn’t want to be there. I was pi—” He looks at Zach and stops himself. “I was mad because I’d just had to tell the club team I tried out for that I couldn’t play for them because I didn’t have enough money. I was rude to Mrs. Callahan, but she was kind anyway. She hung out with me and tried to make me laugh. And then she started volunteering at Summit Reach. She helped me with my homework and didn’t let me sit and pout over life like I wanted to.”

Dallin’s gaze moves to me. “Mr. Callahan came and played football with us a couple times a week after his own practices were over. And yesterday, I found out that a couple other guys and I received scholarships from him, which means I’m now playing for that club team.”

I shoot him a grateful smile and nod. I can already see a change in him, like he just needed a couple people to really believe in him and to put their money where their mouths were.

“I don’t know anything about immigration,” Dallin continues, “but I know we need people like the Callahans in our community. We’d be worse off without them.” He steps back next to Bennett and Zach, who grips Dallin by the shoulder in appreciation.

“We’re not asking you to turn a blind eye to what happened,” Zach says. “All we ask is that you take the full situation, including my culpability, the Callahans’ naivety, and their important role in our community into account as you make your decision. Thank you.” He nods, then smiles at Tori and me before gesturing for Bennett and Dallin to lead the way out of the room.

Tori and I stand simultaneously and go over to thank them before they leave.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say with a thick voice as I give Zach a hug. He just put himself and his job at risk.

“I did.” He pulls back and grasps my shoulders. “But more importantly, I wanted to. I just hope it helps.”

Tori pulls away from her hug with Dallin, blinking quickly, and I grab her hand.

“Whether it does or not,” I say, looking at each one of them in turn, “we won’t forget it.”

“Good luck,” Dallin says, and then the door closes on Zach, Bennett, and him.