Chapter 3 - Son-In-Law
1315 Words
~~~Soraya~~~
My mom’s ringtone blared like a fire alarm in the suddenly silent penthouse.
I stared at the screen like it was a live grenade.
Declan’s eyes met mine, wide, for once not smirking.
Maya still held the hockey stick like a baseball bat.
Jax had frozen mid bite of cold pizza.
Priya and Lena were filming everything like this was premium reality TV content.
I answered on speaker before I could stop myself. “Mom?”
“Soraya Maria Rivera.” Mom’s voice cracked through the speaker, equal parts joy and hysteria.
“The university just called us. They said you got married? In Las Vegas? To a boy from the men’s team? We’re already at the airport. Your father is crying happy tears on the way to the gate.”
I but my lip so hard, it got bruised.
Not the reaction I was expecting.
“Mom, it’s… complicated. You don’t have to..”
“We’re coming straight there, Send the address. I packed your abuela’s wedding dress just in case. We need photos.”
The call ended.
I looked up slowly.
Everyone was staring at me.
“Well,” Jax said, cracking open a beer, “this just became a telenovela. Ten bucks says her dad tries to fight Declan.”
Declan ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely rattled for the first time.
“Press conference is tomorrow morning at 9. Your parents showing up tonight is going to make this ten times harder to sell.”
Maya pointed the hockey stick at his chest.
“You think that’s the problem? You dragged my best friend into a fake marriage and now her traditional Catholic parents are flying in thinking she eloped with the enemy? I should check you into the boards myself.”
“Enough” I shouted.
The room quieted.
“Everyone who doesn’t live here, out. Now.”
“Declan and I need to figure this out before my parents show up and realize their daughter sold herself to pay medical bills.”
But of course no one left.
Instead, the next two hours descended into absolute madness.
Jax ordered more pizza. Lena called two more Storm girls who showed up with ice cream and tequila 'for emotional support.’
One of Declan’s defensemen, Theo, wandered in because Jax texted the Blades group chat. Suddenly our luxury sponsor penthouse looked like a chaotic house party.
Declan and I got shoved onto the couch together while Maya played director.
“Practice, lovebirds,” she ordered. “You have to look convincing by tomorrow or the deal collapses. Hold hands. Look at each other like you don’t want to commit murder.”
Declan slid his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side. His body was warm, solid, and smelled like ice and that stupid expensive cologne.
My traitorous heart kicked hard.
“Like this?” he asked, voice low and rough as his fingers traced lazy circles on my bare shoulder.
I shivered.
“Don’t push it, Shaw.” Maya groaned.
“Worse. You both look constipated. Soraya, touch his face. Like you’re in love.”
I reached up and patted his cheek a little too hard. “There. Love.”
Declan caught my wrist, his stormy gray eyes locking onto mine. For a second the chaos around us faded. His thumb brushed my pulse point.
“You’re terrible at this.”
“You’re insufferable,” I whispered back.
Jax wolf-whistled. “Yeah, that’s the s****l tension we need for the press conference.”
Theo laughed from the kitchen.
“Campus is losing its mind. The group chats are calling it ‘Rink Wedding.’ Someone made a betting pool on how long before you two kill each other.”
The doorbell rang again.
This time it was worse.
My parents.
Mom burst through the door first, carrying a massive bag of what smelled like homemade tamales and crying happy tears.
Dad followed, looking thinner after his last round of chemo but standing tall in his old jacket, eyes scanning the room until they landed on Declan.
My stomach dropped.
“Mija” Mom pulled me into a crushing hug, then immediately turned to Declan.
“So this is my new son-in-law? Ay Dios mío, he’s so tall”
Declan stood up, all 6’4” of him, suddenly looking nervous. He extended his hand.
“Mr. and Mrs. Rivera, it’s… nice to meet you. Under the circumstances.”
Dad ignored the handshake and pulled Declan into a hug instead, clapping him hard on the back.
“You take care of my daughter, yes? She is strong but she carries too much. If you hurt her, I will find a way.”
I wanted the floor to swallow me.
Mom was already unpacking food, chattering a mile a minute.
“We brought papers for the church blessing, Father Miguel said he can do it next month. And photos we need so many photos for the family group chat.”
Maya shot me a look that screamed ‘what the hell did you do?’
The next forty minutes were pure torture.
Mom made us pose for pictures, Declan’s arm around my waist, my hand on his chest, fake smiles while my parents beamed.
Dad kept asking Declan about his “intentions” and NHL plans.
Mom kept calling me “Mrs. Shaw” and tearing up.
Every time Declan looked at me during the photos, something dangerous flickered in his eyes. When his hand slid lower on my back, I pinched his side hard. He pinched back. The camera caught us mid-bicker-smile and Mom declared it “true love.”
I was drowning.
At one point Declan pulled me aside into the hallway while our friends and my parents devoured tamales in the living room.
“We’re losing control,” he muttered, crowding me against the wall.
“Your parents think this is real. If they find out it’s fake..”
“Then we make it look real,” I snapped, but my voice shook.
“For them. For the debt. For your stupid draft.”
His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch was surprisingly gentle.
“You’re shaking, Savage.”
“Because this is insane. My parents are planning a church blessing. Your teammates are live t*****g. The press conference is in twelve hours and I still want to kill you.”
Declan’s gaze dropped to my lips. “Yeah? Then why haven’t you pushed me away yet?”
My breath hitched. We were inches apart.
Again. Before I could answer, Maya’s voice cut through the hallway.
“Soraya, Your dad wants to give Declan the ‘respect my daughter’ speech on camera for the family”
We sprang apart.
But it was too late.
As we walked back into the living room, my phone buzzed with a new alert. Then Declan’s. Then everyone’s.
Campus Sports News just posted:
“Exclusive: Northpoint’s Rival Power Couple Already Facing Drama - Sources Say Families Involved”
Attached was a blurry photo someone had leaked from inside the penthouse. Declan and me in the hallway, looking way too intimate.
Below it, a new comment from a verified account.
“This marriage is fake. Sources inside athletic department confirm it’s a sponsor cover-up.”
The room went silent as everyone read it.
Mom looked up from her plate, confused.
“Mija… what is this?”Declan’s jaw clenched.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Before either of us could speak.
The head of athletics called my phone. I answered.
Her voice was ice cold. “The alumni sponsor just saw the leak. They’re furious. If you two can’t prove this marriage is real at tomorrow’s press conference… the deal dies tonight,” She paused.
“And Soraya? Your parents will be asked to speak as well.”
- Writer
