Liliana felt a prickle of discomfort but knew there was nothing she could do about it.
She was a woman with a remarkable ability to self-regulate. Her smile returned instantly as she took a few pastries from the box and placed them in front of Finnian, telling him to eat something. Then, as if it were an afterthought, she asked, "Finn, when are we going to get our marriage license?"
The date for the ceremony was set, but not the date for the legal registration. After all, only the license made it legally binding, a detail that was very important to Liliana.
To her shock, Finnian replied coldly, "We're only having a ceremony. We're not getting a license."
Liliana wasn't sure she heard him right, or perhaps she didn't want to believe it. "Finn, what did you say?" she asked again.
Finnian set down the document he was holding and looked up at her. "We're not getting a license."
This time, Liliana heard him clearly. The color drained from her lips, so much so that her lipstick couldn't hide her pallor.
So Finnian had only agreed to a wedding ceremony?
She clutched his sleeve, her smile strained. "Finn, why aren't we getting a license? Don't you want to marry me legally?"
Finnian didn't have time for this. "It's not urgent. I have work to do. You should go."
He stared at her, completely ignoring her pale face. The message was clear: get out.
Liliana's composure was shattered, but she knew that causing a scene here was the worst possible move.
She collected herself, managed a small smile for Finnian, and left the office.
The moment she was outside, her expression crumbled.
So Finnian wouldn't legally marry her. What kind of marriage was that?


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