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Chapter Text

Spring 2026

Cynthia and Ariana sat in the immigration attorney’s office silently, chairs pushed as close together as possible, so that they could touch. However, at that moment, Cynthia was fidgeting with her own fingers anxiously, taking in the ornate furniture and decor. The space screamed expensive and intelligent. There was a quiet air of bragging that lingered—a reminder that the man across from them had attended the best law school in the country and had graduated top of his class.

Normally, this level of ego in one space would make Cynthia’s stomach turn. She wasn’t one for being overly flashy with one’s accomplishments, not like this. But Ari had insisted on the best to ensure the plan they were enacting would go off without a hitch. 

So now, Cynthia sat nervously playing with her rings, feeling the weight of the situation. Her career, the life she’d so carefully built in the United States, all of it was on the line. All because her jealous and petty ex-partner decided to capitalize on the current political climate and create problems with her visa status.

She and Lena were not married, but they had agreed at the beginning of the 2024 presidential election cycle that they would get married if Trump got elected, so Cynthia’s green card could be secured, in the event that work dried up. It wasn’t really what the Brit wanted, to be tied like that to the producer. But their five years of relationship history meant that it would be the easiest path to pursue in order to keep Cynthia in the States and working without hiccups. 

She anticipated that without a more permanent status, it could become more difficult to find jobs. Because this place had basically become her home (and the place where she was able to work consistently), she didn’t really want to have to leave. There were friendships she had forged and a community she had built. The Brit certainly didn’t want to be separated from all that she had come to hold dear, including the blonde sitting next to her.

But Lena, ever the petty one, had reneged on her word when things between her and Ariana had gotten more intense and questionable. The two co-stars hadn’t even confirmed romantic feelings existed between them when Lena started lashing out and made the decision that she no longer would help Cynthia secure permanent residence.

At first, Cynthia had begrudgingly dealt with that. The work was still flowing Stateside, so it wasn’t too big a concern. She’d still had time left on her work visa, so she decided to push aside all worries about her status until the expiry came closer.

That had been a mistake. When the renewal came up, the Brit had faced hiccup after hiccup and delay after delay. Soon, she was faced with an expiring visa, no pending long-term projects in the States, and a series of obligations she still had to find a way to be present for to fulfill. It had created a conundrum for Cynthia, who was traveling extensively for her overseas obligations and then returning to the country for concerts and appearances. 

She had been living in hotels for weeks, and she was tired. Tired of the runaround about the paperwork. Tired of constantly being on the go and feeling unsettled. Tired of the looming anxiety about her career because of these issues. She had finally acquiesced to a proposal that Ariana had made many months before. A green card marriage between the two of them, since the world already thought they were married anyway.

At first, when Ariana had suggested it, Cynthia had brushed it off as a joke. Just typical Ari shenanigans that didn’t really mean anything. She personally wasn’t interested in a fake relationship, and certainly not with someone she held so dear. But as time went on, and their relationship started to deepen, feelings blooming beyond what the Brit had expected, the idea became a bit more realistic to her, like they might not actually be faking after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Winter 2024

Cynthia and Ariana were on a FaceTime call, just shooting the shit while the Brit worked through some emails. The blonde watched her closely as Cynthia squinted her eyes at the text on her computer screen, reading carefully, mouthing words to herself as she went along.

“Anything interesting?” Ari’s voice was light and curious, but she was reading the Brit’s body language. There was an edge to her posture and a glint of anxiety in her eyes.

Cynthia looked up from her screen for a moment, turning her attention to the blonde. “Huh? Oh, not really. Just some information about my team related to my visa status.” She waved dismissively. “I like to keep on top of these things, especially with the current political climate.”

Ariana looked on, concern etched into her features. “Is your work visa almost up or something?”

Cynthia let out a long sigh as she sat back in her big green throne. “It’s not up yet, but I’m trying to get ahead of it all, because processing times are longer than they used to be.” She paused, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. “And I don’t want to give them any excuse…” Her voice trailed off.

Ari leaned forward, a mischievous look on her face. “What if we get married?”

Cynthia threw her head back and cackled loudly, clapping her hands together. She only stopped, the laughter dying in her throat when she realized that the other woman was not laughing along.

“I’m so serious.” The blonde’s gaze was steady, her voice sure. “Everyone already thinks we are anyway.”

“Well, yes, but you started that rumor, babe,” Cynthia responded, a bemused expression on her face.

Ari rolled her eyes. “The point is, people would believe it. We have plenty of evidence that makes it look like we’ve been a couple this whole time, and––”

“And already existing partners,” Cynthia cut in quietly. Ari swallowed hard and looked away, remembering their other attachments.

“Besides,” Cynthia continued. “That probably won’t be necessary anyway. Lena already told me that she’d marry me for the green card if I needed her to.”

Ari blinked rapidly, obviously fighting tears. “Right. Lena.”

Cynthia looked down at her lap for a moment. “She’s not my biggest fan right now, though, so I’m trying not to have to ask this of her.”

Ari’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why isn’t she your biggest fan?”

Once again, Cynthia waved her hand dismissively. “The same old. We’re working through it. Plus, I’m sure she’d keep her word no matter what.”

Ari nodded, more to herself than anything. “Well,” she began carefully. “If it comes down to you staying or not, my offer will always be on the table. Even if the day comes where we loathe each other.”

Cynthia cracked a smile, warmth washing over her at the sweetness in the blonde’s insistence.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you, baby.” The Brit’s face and tone shifted as she raised a brow slightly. “Though I could never loathe you.”

Seeing an opportunity to make the Brit laugh, Ari shifted into comic mode. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ve been pretending the whole time. Some people believe it’s all PR anyway.”

Cynthia threw her head back and laughed heartily. “So silly.”

Ari’s smile was bright as she watched Cynthia through the screen. As the Brit calmed down, her face grew serious, and she looked directly at the blonde. 

“I hope you know this is real for me. I mean that.”

Ari nodded, smile faltering to match the energy Cynthia was giving her. “I know. It’s real for me too.”

Cynthia offered a soft smile in response to that. “Good.” She picked up her phone, bringing Ariana closer to her face. “I’ve got to go now, love. Speak to you later.”

“I love you,” Ari answered without hesitation.

“I love you too.” Cynthia’s smile grew, and she blew a kiss at the blonde before hanging up the phone.

Her eyes returned to the immigration email in front of her, but her focus remained on the woman she had just finished conversing with. Specifically, the marriage talk. The idea rolled around in her head, and she had to admit that the picture of her and Ari as wives pulled at her heart a little bit. She shook her head, trying to push the thought away.

They were simply two very good friends. And she was still very much partnered, even if things there weren’t as good as they could be.

Yet, the nagging idea of her and Ariana as something more buried and tucked itself into her brain, unwilling to be shaken loose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring 2026

“So.” The lawyer cleared his throat, snapping Cynthia out of her recollections. Her eyes turned towards him, fingers interlocked with tattooed ones. “You are interested in a green card marriage?” He adjusted the lapels of his navy blue blazer.

Cynthia nodded, feeling Ariana gently stroking her fingers. “Yes. That’s right.” The man across the desk looked between the two women scrutinizingly.

“And why is that, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Cynthia sucked in a long breath of air. “I’m from the UK…an actress and singer—”

“I know who you are,” the lawyer cut in, smugly. “I’m just curious how Cynthia Erivo can’t secure a work visa.”

Cynthia scoffed, an air of irritation settling over her. “I could with ease if your president wasn't making things difficult,” she spat back. The Brit felt Ariana squeeze her hand gently, grounding her and reminding her to relax. She settled back in her seat, exhaling to ease the tension.

The lawyer held up his hands in mock surrender, a smile curling on her lips and a slight glimmer in his eyes. “I’m just asking, that’s all.”

“Let’s try to keep the questions related to the visa process.” Ari’s tone was lighthearted but carried a weight of warning to it. Cynthia glanced at the blonde gratefully, stroking her thumb across tattooed fingers.

The lawyer raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey. Inquiring minds wanted to know.” He shuffled some papers in front of him before putting on a pair of costly-looking reading glasses. He peered over the top of them to briefly skim the forms and supporting documents the women had already presented. He turned his gaze to the two of them, glasses still perched on the end of his nose.

“So, how long have you all been in love?” His fingers formed air quotes around the last two words, but both women chose to ignore that and the sarcasm dripping from his voice. Ariana looked at Cynthia adoringly.

“Well, for me, it probably happened the day we met in person for the first time.” Cynthia giggled and shook her head lovingly.

“Baby, be serious.” The blonde’s eyebrows raised slightly.

“Oh, I am serious.” Cynthia squeezed her hand gently to pull the woman back into focus.

“I think, really, we fell in love over time,” the Brit contributed. Her gaze met Ari’s as she continued speaking. “I don’t think either of us saw it coming. It just…happened.”

The two women gazed lovingly at each other, hands still clasped together. The lawyer cleared his throat, pulling them out of their little bubble. “That’s very nice and romantic, and it will certainly sell the story to whoever interviews you for the final step. But what about your partners?”

I broke up with Ethan a while ago,” Ariana cut in immediately, not skipping a beat. “We’ve only been seen together for appearances related to the movie. Now that that’s done…” Her voice faded slightly as she looked hopefully in Cynthia’s direction. The Brit met her gaze with a secret smile teasing on her lips.

The lawyer cut in, staring pointedly at Cynthia, “And yours?”

Cynthia’s face screwed up a little in bitterness. “She won’t be a problem.”

“Are you sure?” The lawyer observed her carefully, skepticism in his voice and eyes. “The last thing we want is a surprise throwing a wrench in the process. If there’s something I should know, then please tell me now.”

Cynthia sighed, her shoulders tensing as she opened her mouth to speak. “She just believes that Ari and I have been having an affair since filming on Wicked. It’s part of why we aren’t together anymore.”

“Well, have you?” Cynthia recoiled slightly at the direct nature of the question. Ari squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she took a sharp inhale of breath.

“Not a full-blown affair.” She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she wanted to continue. 

“But we did hook up a few times,” Ariana cut in, completing the thought for Cynthia. The Brit’s head dropped regretfully as Ari’s thumb gently stroked across her knuckles. Both women steeled themselves for what the lawyer might say in response.

“That actually isn’t a problem for the narrative at all.” Both women shot him shocked looks, before turning to look at each other in confusion.

“Really?” Ari inquired incredulously.

The lawyer nodded his head. “In fact, the infidelity can be an angle leveraged to prove that you two are genuinely in love.”

Cynthia looked over at Ariana with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. The blonde smiled softly back at her, dimple peeking through her cheek. “We are,” the Brit murmured softly.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” the lawyer responded quickly. “This just ensures that the Immigration office has no doubt as well.”

Ari returned her attention to the man in front of them, hand still glued to Cynthia’s. “So, what’s next then? Like, what do we have to do to get this taken care of as quickly and smoothly as possible?”

“Well, first things first. You two need to get married.” Both women’s brows furrowed at that statement.

“But how can we get married if I don’t have the visa?” Cynthia countered.

“Marriages are state jurisdiction, not federal,” the lawyer responded. “Plus, you need a marriage certificate in order to get the visa.” The two women looked at each other briefly before looking back in the lawyer’s direction.

“What exactly do we need to have to secure this?” Ari inquired, leaning forward anxiously.

The lawyer shuffled the paperwork splayed across his mahogany desk. “Well, the first form that needs to be submitted is the I-130, or Petition for Alien Relative, the relative being your spouse. That can take up to 14 months, depending on whether or not they request more evidence of your relationship status.”

The two women exchanged pensive looks at that news. Reading their trepidation, the lawyer soldiered forth with a solution. “If you’re interested in speeding up the process significantly, you can file the I-485, or the Application to Adjust Status, alongside the I-130.” The two women nodded encouragingly at this update. “However,” he continued. “You will need to bring all of the additional supporting documents with you at once.”

“What does that entail?” Cynthia inquired anxiously.

“You, Ms. Erivo, will need to undergo a medical examination by a USCIS-approved physician. That doctor will complete the I-693 for you, which you will submit with your updated vaccination records. You will also need to submit your birth certificate, a passport-style photo, proof of lawful entry to this country, either via I-94 record or visa stamps, as well as employment and address history to demonstrate you have been living and working here.”

The lawyer shifted his focus to Ariana. “And you, Ms. Grande, will need to provide proof of your U.S. citizenship status via passport, or birth certificate, and the financial support affidavit or I-864 with supporting documents proving you can and will be able to support Ms. Erivo financially.” He paused to take in a large breath of air. “You will both need to provide your marriage certificate and solid proof of your relationship, anything that demonstrates you are together. That can include lease documents with both of your names on them, shared bills and finances, communications between the two of you, pictures together, travel records, and sworn affidavits from friends and family corroborating your relationship.”

Cynthia leaned over to whisper to Ari. “I can ask Capri and perhaps my mum.”

“I can get my whole family and probably Liz and Vic to do one as well. We’ve got that part.” Cynthia grinned lovingly in the blonde’s direction. The lawyer cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

“Of course, if you wish to keep working, you’ll need to file the I-765 and the I-131 for temporary work and travel permits. Now.” The man folded his hands on his desk, interlocking his fingers. “There is the matter of payment. My office will handle all the filing fees, as they will be rolled into the retainer you pay, and it’s just easier to keep track of for administrative purposes.”

Ariana nodded and waved her hand, almost dismissively. “Just invoice my team. I’ll take care of it.” Cynthia whipped her head in the blonde’s direction, incredulously.

“Baby!” Ari shook her head, not meeting Cynthia’s look.

“No arguments, dearest. Wouldn’t want our lawyer thinking there’s trouble in paradise, now would we?” Ariana’s tone was dripping in honey but laced with an edge that left no room for discussion. Cynthia huffed and leaned back into her seat, disconnecting their hands for the first time all meeting to fold her arms across her chest, as she pouted.

Ariana looked on at the Brit’s antics affectionately, as she draped her arm across the back of the other woman’s chair, her nails lightly scratching at Cynthia’s shoulder blade.

The lawyer’s eyes darted back and forth between the women for a moment. “So, am I to understand that you will handle the bill, Ms. Grande?”

Ariana nodded assertively. “Yes. My team will handle it.”

The lawyer made a note of that. “Good. That will bode well for the financial support aspect as well.”

Ari looked over at Cynthia once more. “See, babe! It helps our relationship narrative for me to pay.” Cynthia rolled her eyes but uncrossed her arms and took the blonde’s hand once more.

The lawyer leaned forward expectantly. “Alright, ladies. Are we good to move forward on this?”

The two women looked at each other for a beat before turning to look back at the man on the other side of the desk.

“Yes,” Cynthia breathed out. “Let’s do this.”

The lawyer clapped his hands together once. “Let’s do this! I’ll have my paralegal draw up the paperwork and send it over once it’s ready for you to review and sign. She will also send you a secure link to submit all your documents through.” He stood and extended a hand across the desk. “I look forward to your successful green card marriage!”

Cynthia took his hand, grasping firmly and shaking it with a nod of her head. He extended his hand to Ariana, who shook it as well. The two women walked out of the office, hands still clasped, and Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the car on the way back to Ari’s apartment, Cynthia scrolled mindlessly on her phone, pretending to pore over messages and emails. At the same time, her thoughts churned relentlessly about the process ahead. Ari studied her side profile carefully, sensing the energy weighing on the Brit’s shoulders.

“Care to share what’s going on in that beautiful and brilliant mind of yours?” she probed gently, knowing that Cynthia might not be ready to share.

Cynthia leaned back, pulling her gaze away from the small screen in her hand and letting her eyes slip closed. “I’m so relieved that this process seems so straightforward. Although I do wish you would let me pay for at least SOME of the fees.” She shot the blonde a withering look and was met with a cheeky smirk.

“But?” Ariana prodded, urging the Brit to continue.

Cynthia let out a long exhale before rubbing her hands down the expanse of her face. “I just…worry. Lena’s still looming. Immigration stuff has become so precarious here.” She shifted in her seat slightly so her body was facing Ariana’s a bit more. “What if it doesn’t work out and I have to leave?”

Ariana immediately reached out and grabbed Cynthia’s hands, running her thumbs across them reassuringly. “My love, we can’t think like that. This is going to work. You’re going to get the visa. The lawyer—”

“That lawyer was an asshole,” Cynthia cut in sharply.

“Yeah, well, most of them are.” Ariana shrugged. “He just also happens to be the best immigration lawyer in the country.” She leaned in until her forehead touched Cynthia’s. “I have faith in his ability to make this happen for you. For us.”

“Yeah?” Cynthia let a glimmer of hopefulness flicker across her face as she searched brown doe-shaped eyes for any hint of insecurity or hesitation.

Ari looked back at her with complete adoration and fierce confidence. “Yeah.” She leaned in and captured the Brit’s soft, full lips in a slow, lingering kiss before pulling back. She freed one of her hands and brushed her thumb gently over the crease in Cynthia’s forehead. “Now stop worrying so I can call the wedding planner.”

Cynthia smiled brightly, her gap peeking from behind her lips. “We have to actually get married first, baby.” She paused, her brows furrowing once more. “It’s so weird to be doing it like this. It’s certainly not what I’d imagined for my first marriage.”

“First of all, first marriage?! Babe, I'd better be your only marriage!” Cynthia full-on laughed at that, her head falling back to hit the seat behind her.

“Oh, you will be,” she surmised, a twinkle in her eyes, as she looked at the blonde affectionately. “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Ari nodded her head and squeezed Cynthia’s hand. “Good.” She gazed at the other woman for a moment, her expression softening. “I know you want the big wedding, and I promise I’m gonna give it to you.” She waved her phone to indicate her plans to speak to a wedding planner. “But let’s get this visa taken care of first. Then I promise to give you the wedding of your dreams.”

Cynthia smiled softly, leaning in to chase Ari’s plump, pink lips for another kiss. “You better keep your word, Grande,” she murmured against the blonde’s mouth. The two women giggled and shared sweet kisses until Ariana finally swatted at Cynthia’s arm.

“Alright, hot stuff. Let me make my calls so that I can deliver.” Cynthia leaned back, still smiling. She gazed out the window as the car carried them home, and for the first time in months, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Chapter Text

July 2025

Cynthia sat on the couch in Ariana’s apartment, her knee bouncing anxiously as she twiddled with her fingers. There was an air of tension between the two women, as the blonde sat on the opposite end with her arms folded across her chest.

“You said you wanted to explain.” Cynthia flinched at the ice in Ariana’s tone. “So explain.”

Cynthia sighed and rubbed her hands over her knees, trying to gather herself and her thoughts. “Ari,” she began carefully. “I know how bad everything looked. And I know how much I hurt you in all of it.”

Ariana scoffed, her posture still defensive, eyes ablaze with fury. “You hurt me? Cynthia, you devastated me.” Her arms dropped into her lap. “I thought we had something special.”

Cynthia scooted closer to the blonde on the couch, touching one of her hands gingerly, not wanting to push her luck too far. “Baby, we DO have something special. I just– there’s just been so much going on, and I’m going to sound crazy when I try to explain it to you.”

Ariana turned and looked at Cynthia expectantly, waiting to hear what she had to say. The Brit sucked in a long breath of air. “There’s been a LOT going on behind the scenes. With Lena.” Cynthia paused, considering the weight of her following statement. “When we broke up, she threatened my immigration status. Said she’d figure out a way to get me deported unless I helped her break into the theatre scene.”

Ariana whipped her head in Cynthia’s direction, a new fire blazing in her eyes. One of determination mixed with fierce protectiveness. “What the fuck is wrong with her?! Why would she do something like that?”

Cynthia shrugged and sighed. “I have no idea, honestly.”

The blonde woman shook her head, nearly vibrating with rage. “Like, I get that it’s hard to lose someone you love, especially someone as amazing as you. But to mess with their livelihood like that is just…” Ariana’s voice trails off. She reached over and grabbed Cynthia’s hand, stroking her knuckles soothingly. “What can I do to help?”

“I honestly don’t know. I need to focus on getting my work visa renewed. I’m not sure I will get it secured in a timely manner, but I have to try.” 

Ariana sat, still stroking Cynthia’s hand as she chewed on her bottom lip, deep in thought. “Hang on just a second.” She shot up from where she was sitting suddenly and left the room like a woman on a mission. Cynthia’s hand sat empty, as she looked where the blonde had exited in utter confusion. She sat there, unmoving, as she waited for the other woman to return.

When she finally came back, her hands were hidden behind her back. Cynthia’s brows furrowed in suspicious curiosity, her eyes meeting the blonde’s expectantly. Ariana strode over to where the British woman sat and kneeled in front of her, keeping her hands hidden. Cynthia could feel her heart beating very fast all of a sudden.

“Baby,” the Brit started, her voice carrying an edge of concern and questioning. “What’s all this?”

Ariana brought her hands around, revealing a simple gold ring with a large jade stone set in the middle. Cynthia sucked in a breath of air, as her eyes widened. “Ari,” she warned, tears already starting to well in her eyes.

The blonde woman smiled softly, bringing her hand up to gently wipe a stray tear from Cynthia’s cheek with the pad of her thumb. “Don’t be dramatic,” she murmured with a hint of humor in her voice. “This isn’t even me at my most romantic.”

Cynthia let out a watery chuckle, as she grabbed Ariana’s free hand with her own. “Well, go on then,” she chided playfully.

“Don’t rush me,” the blonde teased lightly. They stared at each other for a long moment before Ariana spoke again. “I know we talked about this last year, and you probably didn’t take me seriously then.”

“Oh I knew you were serious then,” Cynthia surmised.

Ariana smiled brightly, her dimple poking out. “I don’t want you to leave me here and go back to London. And I know you have things you still want to accomplish here. So,” she paused to take in a breath of air. “Cynthia Erivo, will you green card marry me?” The blonde woman looked at Cynthia earnestly, with such love and warmth in her eyes, and the Brit knew she meant it.

Tears had started to flow down Cynthia’s cheeks. She wiped at them, as she smiled at the woman knelt in front of her. “Baby, I don’t want to fake marry you. I love you too much, and I’d end up wanting it to be a real thing.”

Ariana’s smile grew wide, her eyes sparkling with joy at those words. “Who said anything about a fake marriage? I said a green card marriage, not a fake one.” Cynthia threw back her head and laughed.

“You’re so silly.”

“And you love it.”

The tension grew thick, as Cynthia’s eyes met Ariana’s once more. “I do. And I love you.”

“Good. Now, will you answer the question, so I can get up off of this floor?”

Cynthia laughed heartily again. “Yes. A million times yes.” Ariana surged forward to capture Cynthia’s lips in a searing kiss. The Brit’s hands found her waist, pulling the women up from the ground and pulling her into Cynthia’s lap decisively. They kissed languidly for several moments before the popstar pulled away and pressed her forehead against Cynthia’s.

“I almost forgot the most important part.” The blonde sat back, taking Cynthia’s left hand in her own. She slid the ring onto her ring finger and bit her lip, watching as the other woman admired the rock on her finger. “I promise I’ll get you a better ring and give you a better proposal as soon as the visa is approved.”

Cynthia stroked Ariana’s legs gently. “I don’t know, baby. This is already pretty perfect to me.”

Ariana shook her head firmly. “You definitely deserve better. And I’m gonna give it to you as a celebration of your status being secured.”

Cynthia’s grin was bright and wide, her eyes crinkled in delight. “Okay,” she murmured before once more capturing Ari’s lips in a soft kiss.

After several moments of kissing, Cynthia pulled back again. “You know we won’t be able to go public with this or move forward with the actual marriage until after Wicked For Good press and awards season are over.”

Ariana looked at her with concern etched onto her features. “Is that gonna jeopardize your ability to live and work here?”

“It might. I am going to try for an application extension or something to give me a little more time. But after the Oscars, we have to get this sorted.”

Ariana nodded, her hands cupping Cynthia’s cheeks and stroking them gently. “I’m all over it, baby. I’ll get the best immigration lawyer money can buy.”

Cynthia smiled at her again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Ariana settled into Cynthia’s lap, with her arms wrapped around the Brit’s neck, as they sat there on the couch, fully wrapped up in each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring 2026

Cynthia remembered that proposal like it was yesterday. And now, here she is in a tailored black and green suit, standing across from Ariana, who was wearing a long, flowy white dress. They are in front of the county clerk in the Beverly HIlls office on a random Wednesday, about to get married.

Cynthia hadn’t envisioned her first marriage kicking off in such an unconventional way, but she loves Ariana, and Ariana loves her. They would have been getting married at some point down the road anyway. So, since Cynthia needs the marriage to secure her residency in the States, this feels natural.

The ceremony is simple enough. They each invite one person to serve as a witness to the marriage. Cynthia had tapped Capri, flying him all the way from London to attend, and Ariana had asked Victoria Monét. Both are seated in the chairs set up in the space, wearing simple and fashionable outfits.

The clerk gets to the good part, stating boldly, “By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you wife and wife! You may kiss your bride.” Ariana doesn’t hesitate to lean in, her hands finding the sides of Cynthia’s face, as their lips meet for a lingering kiss.

When the blonde pulls away, she leans her forehead against the other woman’s, an earnest look in her eyes. “I promise I’m going to give you the wedding of your dreams. Now, let’s get you this visa.” Cynthia smiles at her, tears gathering in her eyes. They turn to face the clerk, who presents them with a marriage certificate to sign in front of their witnesses. They both sign with flourish before sharing another tender kiss.

Outside the county clerk’s office, both Capri and Victoria are ready to party. “So, where we going to celebrate?” Victoria inquires enthusiastically. Cynthia laughs.

“Nowhere yet! We have to get the paperwork submitted. Then, we have an appointment with the wedding planner to get things moving.”

“Booooo!” Victoria makes the thumbs down gesture, and Capri joins in her antics.

“You two are no fun! We can’t just let this go without commemorating the moment,” the handsome, bald man chides. Cynthia shakes her head at her childhood best friend’s shenanigans.

“There will be plenty of time for celebrating when this is all said and done. Right now, we’ve got a lot ahead of us.”

Ariana grips Cynthia’s bicep gently, leaning in to fake a whisper. “Baby, I’m sure we can find some time to meet up for dinner later.” Cynthia looks at the blonde’s pleading eyes, folding immediately.

“Alright, fine,” she concedes with exasperation. “We can grab dinner somewhere later.”

Capri and Victoria hoot and exchange high fives. The bald man turns to look at Cynthia with a teasing smile. “Look at you already whipped for your girl.”

“Wife,” Ariana corrects with amusement. “And she was already whipped for me before we were married, so.”

Cynthia rolls her eyes and groans, while placing her hand lovingly over the blonde’s, still gripping her bicep delicately. “It’s called happy wife, happy life. Maybe you should take a page out of my book.”

“Whatever, habibti,” Capri continues to tease, as Ari watches with sparkling eyes. “We’ll catch you two newlyweds later. Pick the place and let us know when to meet you.”

Capri and Victoria peel off, as Ari and Cynthia turn towards their own car, tossing a final wave in their friends’ direction. When they get to their SUV, Ariana detaches from Cynthia long enough to open the door and let her in.

“After you, my wife.” Cynthia giggles as she climbs inside, settling into her seat.

“How chivalrous,” she grins, as Ariana settles beside her. 

“Anything for my baby.” The blonde woman leans in to kiss Cynthia softly on the lips, pulling away just enough to murmur, “I love being married to you already.”

“Mmmmm,” Cynthia hums against her lips in return. “Me too.” They share another kiss as the car pulls off to carry them to their meeting with the wedding planner.

Ariana carefully pulls the marriage certificate out of the folio she has with her, and the two of them look over it together, heads touching gently.

“We’re really married,” Cynthia breathes out. “Like for real.”

“And now you’re stuck with me for life.” Ariana beams, turning her head to place a soft kiss on Cynthia’s forehead. She tucks the document back inside the folio. “I’ll get this uploaded to the lawyer’s link, and that should be the last piece of the puzzle. Then, you get your visa.”

Cynthia reaches over and intertwines her fingers with the blonde woman’s, as the car moves swiftly through the streets of Los Angeles.

They arrive at the expansive estate of Lynn Maysonet, a world-renowned event and wedding planner based in Los Angeles. Usually, the woman was booked years out and unavailable on such short notice, but Ariana had managed to call in a few favors and pull a few strings to get the woman to open up her books for the couple.

Cynthia and Ariana make their way through the house, heels clacking loudly against the marble floor, until they arrive in Lynn’s office. The room is quite quaint in comparison to the rest of the house, but the floor to ceiling windows give a view of the manicured lawn filled with desert-inspired flora and fauna. Lynn, herself, is seated in a tall, cream-colored chair on the other side of a mid-century modern style desk. Her attention turns from her computer screen to the woman, as they make their way into the space somewhat cautiously.

The woman stands up, an enthusiastic smile on her face as she greets the couple. “Ladies,” she exclaims, clapping her hands together once. “Please come in and have a seat!” Cynthia and Ariana sit in the plush, burnt orange chairs on the other side of the desk, hands finding each other immediately.

Lynn sits down once more, clasping her hands in front of herself. “So,” she begins cheerfully. “ Congratulations on your pending nuptials. I am delighted to walk you through the journey to the altar…or wherever you’d like to get married. What is your expected timeframe, so we can begin locking down dates for venues and such.”

Cynthia and Ariana look at each other for a moment before turning to face the wedding planner. Ariana takes in a deep breath and then speaks. “So, our situation is unconventional.” Lynn looks at her expectantly.

“How so?”

Cynthia chimes in, “Well, we are technically already married. We just had a civil ceremony earlier.”

“Mazel tov! But this isn’t shocking or all that rare, actually. Lots of couples have a smaller ceremony for various reasons, then come to me to plan the big ‘wedding.’” She places air quotations around the last word, as she speaks.

Cynthia shakes her head, slightly amused. “That’s not the unconventional part.” She feels Ariana gently squeeze her hand reassuringly. “This is a green card marriage.” She pauses, realizing how that sounds, and immediately starts stumbling over her words. “I mean, we love each other very much and the marriage is real. But.” Cynthia looks at the blonde woman appreciatively. “We are sort of skipping a few steps and fast-tracking everything so I can remain here and work.”

Lynn looks between them nonplussed. “So, where’s the unconventional part? And what’s your timeline?”

Cynthia’s brows furrow in confusion. Reading her energy, Ariana steps in to explain further. “We don’t really have a timeline, because, well, we aren’t one hundred percent sure when the visa will be approved. And we don’t want to have the big wedding until that’s over and done with.” Cynthia smiles gratefully at the blonde woman.

Lynn nods slowly, a contemplative look on her face. “That will be challenging to navigate, but not impossible.” Her voice brightens as she continues. “It may be hard to pick a venue without an official date, but I’m sure you have an estimated timeframe as to when everything might be finalized?”

Cynthia nods. “Approximately eight months.”

“Okay,” Lynn pulls out a black date book and pen. “I can work with that.” She flips eight months ahead and stops when she reaches the month of November. “And do you want to get married right after you get the visa?”

Cynthia and Ariana look at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Finally, Cynthia speaks.

“Baby, didn’t you really want to get married in those tulip fields in the Netherlands?”

Ariana shrugs slightly. “They’re pretty, but I want to give you the wedding you want.”

“I want you to be happy with our wedding too. That will make me the happiest. Did you want to get married in the tulips?” Ariana smiles shyly and nods. Cynthia turns to look at Lynn. “When would be the best time for a wedding in the tulip fields of the Netherlands?”

Lynn flips through her date book, until she lands in Spring 2027. “The tulip fields are usually only open from March to May. Is that when you’d like to get married?”

Ariana leans forward, still holding Cynthia’s hand in her own. “That should give us time to plan everything, and make sure the visa is actually finalized before the wedding date.” She turns back to look at her wife lovingly. “I don’t really want to wait too long though. So, a March wedding is preferred.” Cynthia nods in confirmation.

“Okay!” Lynn jots something down for the two of them in March 2027. “I will reach out to their venue and see what dates are available. I’ll pass that along to you all very soon.” She snaps her date book closed and puts it to the side. “In the meantime, we will work out all of the logistics - guest list and seating charts, menu, cake, wedding party, invitations, website and registry. Any and everything you can think of.”

Both women look at her with a slight overwhelm on their faces. Cynthia leans back, unsure she is ready to handle all that is coming their way, on top of all of the visa stuff and their work. Reading their expressions, Lynn smiles at them. “Don’t worry, ladies. I will handle all of the dirty work. All you have to do is show up to the appointments we agree upon and give me final approvals of things.” Cynthia breathes out a sigh of relief, and she can feel Ariana’s shoulders drop at the news that their involvement will be much more minimal. “That is what you hired a wedding planner for!”

Lynn stands up and extends her hand. Each woman takes a turn grasping and shaking it firmly. Cynthia makes sure to look the woman in the eyes. “Thank you so much for your time, Lynn. I am delighted to be working with you on all of this.”

“It’s my pleasure!”

The women walk out of the house and back to their waiting vehicle, and Cynthia feels alight with excitement and possibility, as the love of her life nearly skips down the front stairs next to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The high of a new marriage and the giddyness of wedding planning can only last for so long. It had been a couple of quiet weeks after Ariana had sent in the paperwork and paid the first round of their lawyer fees. There had been a few preliminary emails from Lynn, primarily contractual logistics for their working relationship and a few proposed dates for their wedding, based on the venue availability.

They are still mulling the exact date over, and at the advice of the wedding planner, they decided to put down a deposit for three of the given days, just to make sure they could secure the venue.

Lynn had connected them with a specialty vegan baker, who would be able to travel to the Netherlands for a fee, so that they could arrange a cake tasting. Ariana had tasked Cynthia with setting an appointment with the man.

Now, they are spending one of the rare afternoons where they both have free time in a private room of the bakery. The lighting is soft, casting a warm glow on the dark wooden table in front of them. The baker, a delightful French man, had flounced out to greet them warmly when they first arrived. He was now in the kitchen, finalizing the samples they had selected to try.

As they wait for the first round, Ariana’s phone buzzes on the table. She picks it up, seeing that she has an email notification from their lawyer. When she opens it up and starts reading, her face falls then scrunches up in frustration.

Noticing her wife’s distress, Cynthia cranes her neck to read over her shoulder. “What’s wrong, baby?” she queries gently.

Ariana locks her phone hurriedly, shaking her head. “It’s nothing, babe.”

Cynthia looks over at her suspiciously. “You know you can’t lie. Not to me, anyway.”

Ariana turns to look at her. “I just don’t want to burst this bubble of happiness. Not yet.” She grabs the Brit’s hands, thumbs stroking over her knuckles gently. “Can we at least try two samples before I tell you.”

Cynthia feels an anxious churning in her stomach, an air of doom settling over her. But Ariana’s pitiful pout is her biggest weakness, so she concedes, opting not to press it any further until they had tried two cake samples.

The first sample comes out, and looks absolutely divine. “Vegan coconut cake with vegan coconut buttercream frosting and coconut shavings,” the baker announces, placing a slice in front of each woman. Ariana’s eyes widen with excitement, as she picks up her fork.

“Ohhh this looks very decadent.” The blonde woman gently takes a forkful of the cake and brings it to her lips. She looks over at Cynthia, who appears to be frozen in thought. “Babe? You gonna try the cake.”

Cynthia shakes her head, waking herself up from her internal spiral. “Sorry.” She picks up her fork and takes a bite of the slice in front of her. They both chew thoughtfully for a moment. The Brit tries to wrap her mind around the flavor but cannot seem to get her tastebuds and brain to connect.

Ari notices Cynthia’s affect, as she swallows her own bite of cake. “What did you think?” she queries gently, trying to pull the Brit out of her own head for a moment.

“Hmmm,” Cynthia ponders, as the flavors still linger on her tongue. “It’s a bit too coconutty for my liking.” She places the fork beside the plate of partially eaten cake. Ari nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I was gonna say the same. So that’s a pass?”

“Pass.” Both women make a notation on their tasting cards, pushing the plates in front of them away for a moment. Cynthia finds herself back in her head about what email from their lawyer could have had her wife’s face twisting up the way it did.

The baker brings out another slice, this one a raspberry and lemon cake. They both dig in, taking a bite. Ariana hums immediately, her face lighting up in delight at the flavor profile. Cynthia’s face remains unchanged, as she chews mindlessly. The blonde stares at her for a moment before bringing her hand up to the back of the Brit’s head, her fingers scratching lightly.

“You okay, baby? You with me?” Cynthia pulls herself back into focus, turning to look at the blonde, whose eyes are filled with concern.

“Yes, love. I’m with you, I swear.” She shakes her head, running a hand over her face. “I just can’t stop thinking about the email you got from the lawyer. You just looked so worried about it.”

Ariana’s eyebrows furrowed, her frown deepening a little. Her fingernails continued to trace soothing patterns all over Cynthia’s smooth scalp. “Oh baby,” she breathed out gently. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to freak you out.” The blonde woman leans in and presses her soft, pink lips to Cynthia's cheek. She pulls away, hand still stroking the Brit’s head. “It’s not nearly as bad as you're thinking. I promise.”

“So why did you look so concerned then?” Cynthia’s shoulders remain tense, as the anxiety of not knowing floods her mind and body.

With her free hand, Ariana waves dismissively. “Baby, I’m just dramatic.” She then moves her hand from Cynthia’s head to her chin, making her look the blonde woman in the eyes. “And I didn’t want to upset or discourage you in this process. That’s why I asked you to wait until we had tried a couple of these samples.” She shakes her head and chuckles to herself. “In hindsight, I should have known that would have the opposite effect.”

Cynthia smiles softly at how well Ariana knows her, and most importantly, how fiercely the woman protects her, even from her own mind. She leans in and captures Ariana’s lips in a soft and slow kiss. When she pulls away, the anxious look returns to her face.

“May I see the email?”

Ari hesitates for only a moment, before reaching for her phone, unlocking it, and opening to the latest email from the immigration lawyer. She hands her device over to Cynthia who reads it carefully, her brows scrunched up in concentration. 

After a long moment, she hands the phone back to the blonde and picks up her fork to take another bite of the cake she had barely tasted the first go round. Ariana watches her in confusion and concern.

“So?”

Cynthia chews the cake. “It’s tasty but a little fruity for my liking.”

Ariana’s eyes narrow at the deflection. “You know that’s not what I meant, babe.” Her voice is gentle but pointed.

Cynthia turns to look at her. “I don’t think there’s much to say. They want more evidence of the relationship.” She takes another bite of the cake she’s just rejected, as Ariana looks on in silence.

“It’s clear that you’re upset about it. Please talk to me,” Ariana pleads quietly.

The Brit sets her fork down and places her hands on the table in front of her. “I guess I just don’t see the point of this. It’s clearly not going to work, so why are we even trying?”

Ari’s face crumbles. “You don’t want to marry me?”

Realizing what she’s just implied, Cynthia turns her whole body in her chair, so that she’s facing the blonde woman, her hands coming up immediately to cup her face. “No, baby,” she coos, her thumbs stroking Ari’s cheekbones. “I want to marry you. Just this is getting to be too much is all.”

She takes a moment to consider her next words carefully, still stroking the blonde woman’s cheeks. “Maybe you and I can just get married in the UK. I can move us to London, and you’ll be eligible for citizenship there.”

Ariana offers her a half smile. “Well, that was always going to happen regardless.” She then covers Cynthia’s hands with her own, forcing the other woman to still her thumbs. “But we aren’t giving up on this so easily.” 

They stare lovingly at each other for a beat, before the blonde speaks again. “Besides,” she continues, a cheekiness in her tone. “You’re already married to me, technically speaking.”

Cynthia rolls her eyes but smiles widely. “You’re the dramatic one who was acting like I didn’t want to marry you just moments ago.”

“Yeah well, you picked me. And there are no takebacks.” Cynthia throws back her head and laughs heartily, as the blonde woman looks on with a sparkly grin. 

“So silly,” Cynthia chuckles out softly. Ariana leans in for another kiss.

“And you love it.”

“I do. And I love you,” the Brit murmurs against her mouth.

They get through the rest of the tasting, settling on a combination of the strawberry elderflower cake and the chocolate truffle with ganache. As they leave the bakery, Ariana grabs Cynthia’s hand, forcing the Brit to stop in her tracks and look the blonde woman in the eyes.

“This is going to work,” Ariana stated, her face and voice is steadfast and without a hint of doubt. Cynthia searches her eyes and finds love and reassurance there. “Your visa is going to be approved. I’m going to propose to you properly and give you the wedding of your dreams. Do you believe me?”

Cynthia nods almost involuntarily. Ariana’s security in her words made Cynthia believe it in her bones. Everything would work out just fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summer 2026 - London

It’s a rainy day in London, but Cynthia doesn’t notice as she sits in a private bridal boutique with her mother, sister, and best friend around her. She had opted to purchase her wedding dress from a British Nigerian designer, because she knew that she could incorporate some traditional Igbo prints and silhouettes in her dress. Plus, the trip home had given her a chance to get affidavits from her family and Capri about her relationship with Ari to submit as additional evidence.

The designer, a tall, curvy Nigerian woman, enters the showroom where everyone is seated on plush white couches. “Hello and welcome to Nwunye Boutique! I am Mary, shop owner and head designer.” She turns towards Cynthia. “And you’re the bride, correct?”

Cynthia nods. “Yes. Well, one of them.”

“She is the bride you will be fitting today,” Edith chimes in gently.

“Perfect,” Mary states, clapping her hands together once. “In talking with your mother, I learned that you will be incorporating some of the traditional isiagu print in the design, yes?”

Cynthia nods. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Wonderful! We have pulled some designs that we think will match the color scheme you provided, as well as the style of dress you shared with us.” Mary gestures to the rack on one side of the boutique. “You may try whatever you like, and once you have picked your dress, we will get measurements to make sure it fits perfectly. Any questions for me?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Cynthia looks at her bridal squad for confirmation, and they all shake their heads, confirming that there are no questions.

“Great!” Mary exclaims enthusiastically. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Take your time, and let me know if you need anything!” With that, the woman disappears somewhere in the boutique, as Cynthia approaches the rack, Capri at her heels.

The Brit pulls a particularly fluffy number off the rack, turning to show it to Capri who immediately scrunches up his nose in disapproval.

“That’s entirely too much,” he deadpans, as he fingers the tulle of the bodice gingerly.

“I’ve worn multiple dresses like this on the red carpet before.”

“Yeah, and they were fitting for the occasion. This is your wedding day. You can’t be coming down the aisle looking like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.”

Cynthia playfully punches Capri in the arm. “So rude,” she laughs, as Stephanie comes up to join them. “What do you think, sissy?”

Stephanie examines the dress for a moment. “It’s quite a lot, that’s for sure.”

Cynthia rolls her eyes and grumbles, “You both have no sense of adventure in fashion.”

“And once again, your wedding is not the time to be adventurous in fashion, habibti. Let’s find you something sexy and sensible to wear.” He and Stephanie flip through the rack of dresses together, as Cynthia turns to face her mother, exasperation on her features.

“Come, my child. Talk with me. Let your brother and sister find some options for you.” Edith pats the seat next to her and Cynthia complies, easing in next to her mother. “So, how is the wedding planning coming along?”

Cynthia lets out a breath of air. “It’s actually going very well. We have similar tastes on most things, and we compromise well on the things we have different ideas about.”

“Good. This is very good.” Edith nods her head as she takes the younger woman’s hand. “A strong foundation for marriage.”

Cynthia smiles a small, soft smile. “Yes. Yes it is.”

“So,” Edith continues. “If the wedding planning is going well, and you are confident in your marriage, why do you carry such worry?”

Cynthia sighs, turning her attention to where Stephanie and Capri are arguing about whether or not to include a particular dress in the selection for her to try. She smiles affectionately, soaking up the moment. She turns back to her mother, who is still holding her hand. “As beautiful as this moment is, I can’t help but worry about the paperwork. There has already been a hiccup with the process. I’m just…worried.”

“Mmmm,” Edith hums contemplatively. “You know you cannot worry about tomorrow’s challenges. You must hold on to the good things surrounding you right now. You have a beautiful relationship with a wedding on the horizon. All of us who love you are with you now, as you prepare for one of the biggest days of your life. A new beginning. You know that we must focus on what we want to attract to our lives. If you want this visa process to be successful, you must believe that it will be. Do you understand this?”

Cynthia nods quietly. “I understand, mummy.”

“Good.” Edith puts her other hand on top of Cynthia’s. “You must cherish these moments, my child. Make the most of them while they are here.” Cynthia lets those words wash over her, ruminating on the wisdom from her mother and willing herself to push her anxiety about the visa process away.

“Cyn,” Capri calls out to the British woman, cutting through her inner dialogue and reflection. “Come try these dresses on!”

Edith nods her head in his direction, urging her eldest daughter to go on. Cynthia squeezes the older Erivo’s hand, as she stands up to see what her sister and best friend have selected for her.

“Alright, let’s see if either of you have any taste at all,” she teases, as she approaches them at the rack. She grabs the dresses in Stephanie’s arms and steps behind the privacy screen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summer 2026 - New York City

Meanwhile, across the pond, Ariana is attending a wedding dress fitting of her own, with Frankie, her mother, Liz, and Victoria in tow. Almost everyone sips on flutes of champagne, minus Frankie, who has a glass of seltzer. The blonde peruses a rack of dresses in different styles and silhouettes, flipping through each one, examining them closely.

“I just really want, no, NEED, for this day to be perfect for her, you know,” Ariana muses, as she pulls one particular dress that caught her eye off the rack. She holds it up to her form in front of the large mirror, as her loved ones look on.

“And it will be perfect, for both of you,” Joan assures, as she steps up behind her daughter and places her hands on her shoulders. “She’s marrying you, and I can assure you that’s what she wants more than anything else.”

Ariana twists her lip between her teeth, as her brows furrow slightly. “I can think of at least one thing she wants more.”

Joan looks back at the others, still seated and sipping from their glasses. They all shrug, confusion on their faces. Victoria stands and joins Joan, both women flanking the blonde, as she inspects the dress closely. 

“What’s on your mind, Ari,” Victoria prods, gently.

Ariana’s anxious eyebrows scrunch up slightly, as her hands mindlessly wander over the fabric spread across her front. “I want to ask dad to walk me down the aisle.”

Joan gasps quietly. “Honey, that’s great!”

“Literally, that’s beautiful, Ari. I’m sure he would be happy to do it.”

“He absolutely would be,” Frankie chimes in from where he’s still seated. “So, what’s got you in such a state, sis?”

Ariana lets out a long breath of air, as she idly puts the dress in her hands back on the rack. “I’m worried about how Cynthia will take it.”

Victoria squeezes the blonde’s shoulder lightly. “Babe, I’m so sure she’d be incredibly happy for you. She loves and supports you and knows the journey you’ve been on to work on your relationship with your father. In fact, if anyone would get it, I know she would.”

Ariana frowns slightly. “That’s the thing. I have no doubt she’d get it and know she’d support me.” But,” Ariana turns to face the group, consternation in her eyes. “Who’s going to walk her down the aisle? Who’s going to dance with her during the father-daughter dance?” She pauses for a moment, fighting back tears. “I want this day to be perfect for her.”

“Ari, honey, you can’t put that kind of pressure on yourself.” Liz finally speaks, her voice soft and sure. “Cynthia already thinks you hung the moon and the stars. All you have to do is show up, and she will be happy. You don’t even have to be dressed.”

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “Not a visual I want or need.” Everyone in the space laughs loudly.

“No, but for real, Ari?” Victoria cuts in. “Liz is right. You don’t have to do anything at all for that woman to be content. She just wants to marry you.”

“But I want to do something. I want to do everything. To give her everything.” Ariana’s voice gets impossibly quiet. “I want her to always know that there’s no lengths I won’t go for her happiness.” The others exchange sad, knowing looks.

Joan wraps an arm around her daughter, pulling her in for a side hug. “Maybe there’s one thing you can do to make the day special for her. Is there anyone who could walk her down the aisle that would be meaningful for her?”

Ari mulls it over for a moment before a gleam appears in her eyes. “I think I have the perfect person.”

“Fabulous,” Frankie exclaims, as he stands up. “Now, let’s get you in a dress that will absolutely take that Capricorn’s breath away when she sees you!” Ariana beams widely, as the squad all gathers around to look over the dress selections with her. Her mind is at ease for a moment, and she has a call to make later that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall 2026

The two women are seated in the sterile lobby of the Los Angeles U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services field office. Cynthia nervously toys with her fingers and rings, as her leg bounces restlessly. 

It had been a busy few months filled with wedding planning and logistics, and there were still many details to get sorted out ahead of the wedding. But first, this visa needed to be finalized.

They are finally at the last step of the process—the interview. They had submitted all of the forms and supporting documents, including the additional information requested. And now, they were waiting to be called back to answer a series of questions about their relationship to prove that it is, in fact, legitimate and not just for the visa.

Cynthia knows that their relationship is real, even if they are playing a little fast and loose with some of the minor details, like when they started dating and all of that. Most of the answers they had practiced are truthful. And the love between them is undoubtedly real. So there’s no real reason to be concerned or nervous.

Yet, Cynthia is. Perhaps, because what’s at stake is her career and status within the United States. She feels like she has the most to lose in this situation, and it terrifies her.

Sensing the Brit’s overwhelming anxiety, Ariana simply reaches over and grabs her hands, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. Cynthia feels a slight sense of calm wash over her, as the blonde leans into her a bit.

“It’s going to be okay, baby,” she whispers hoarsely. “We’ve got this. We’ve been practicing.” 

Cynthia hums in response, unable to formulate words in the moment and trying to save her coherent thoughts for the interview. Fully understanding her wife’s behavior and body language, Ariana unclasps her hand and wraps her arm around the other woman’s shoulders instead. She pulls Cynthia close to her and kisses the top of her head gently, letting her fingers trace soothing patterns over the Brit’s toned bicep.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting, a female interviewing officer steps into the space and barks out, “Grande-Erivo?” The two women stand up, Ariana extending her hand for Cynthia to grab, and they follow the woman back to a tiny office tucked away down a long corridor.

They both take a seat in hard, plastic chairs across from a metal desk. Cynthia can’t help but note the difference between this office and the lawyer’s. Both spaces make her uncomfortable for different reasons, but if she had her choice today, it would be the lawyer’s office, hand’s down.

The woman on the other side of the desk silently navigates to a screen on her computer before she turns to acknowledge the women in front of her. “My name is Sarah,” she drones, a bored affect about her. “I’ll be conducting your interview today. And this green card is for Cynthia Erivo, yes?”

“Cynthia Grande-Erivo,” Cynthia interjects, as Ariana watches her with love and pride. Sarah rolls her eyes and types something out on the keyboard in front of her.

“‘Kay. I’m going to ask you both a series of questions about your relationship to verify its authenticity. Do you both swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I swear,” Cynthia answers.

“Yes.” Ariana’s affirmation comes immediately after.

“Alright,” Sarah continues, typing away on her computer. “First question: how did the two of you meet?”

Cynthia and Ariana look at each other with soft smiles. This one is easy. The Brit speaks up first. “We met on Zoom shortly after we were both cast to play the roles of Elphaba and Glinda, respectively, in the Wicked movie. After that, I invited Ari to come over to my house to chat and get to know each other.”

“And I call that day the best first date neither of us expected,” Ariana continues, looking at Cynthia with pure adoration.

“So then that was your first date? The meeting at Cynthia’s house?” Sarah inquires, her tone dry and probing.

“Not exactly,” Cynthia chuckles. “Although I think it felt like it for both of us.”

Ariana reaches for Cynthia’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It definitely did.”

Sarah looks between them and fights back the urge to roll her eyes. “So when was your first date?”

This one is a bit trickier. They had decided to lean into the cheating narrative to help solidify the case for love. By perpetuating the narrative that they fell so hard for one another that they couldn’t be faithful to their partners, they hope that there would be no doubts that this marriage is legit.

Cynthia swallows hard, nerves starting to take over, and Ariana steps in to answer for her. “Sometime during the writer’s strike, we started going on covert dates in Hampstead Heath.”

“And that was when?”

“Summer 2023,” Cynthia offers. The interviewer nods before looking directly at Ariana.

“Isn’t that around the time that you were in the midst of a divorce and then caught in an affair with another one of your Wicked co-stars?”

Ari turns bright red at this line of questioning, but she does not skip a beat. “Not my proudest moment, I’ll admit.” She runs her free hand through her blonde locks, as Cynthia squeezes the hand she’s holding in reassurance. “Dalton and I had been on the rocks for a while. The way our relationship ended was horrible. I was in a lot of emotional pain and not coping the best. Plus, with the strike, I just kind of lost it a little bit. Ethan and I slept together once and got caught in public the same day we hooked up. The person I really wanted and had always wanted was Cynthia.”

“So why didn’t you two date publicly instead?”

Cynthia steps in to answer this time. “I was already partnered publicly, and Universal didn’t want any more scandal. Ethan and Ari were stuck together publicly, because of the PR around the ‘affair,’ and I wasn’t allowed to end my relationship with Lena until the first round of Wicked press and awards had ended.

Sarah nods once more, muttering to herself, “Hollywood types.” Seemingly satisfied with the provided answers, she moves on with the interview. “What was the proposal like?”

“Oh god,” Ariana’s face flushes further. “Not my most romantic moment. We’re just making a fool of me today, I guess.”

Cynthia looks over at her with nothing but love in her eyes. “It was perfect,” she reassures softly.

Sarah looks between them, visibly annoyed. “And what was it like?”

“So sorry,” Ari answers apologetically. “I was a bit eager last July. She was no longer linked with Lena, and I was free of Ethan, so I just popped the question in my house.” She raises her hands in mock surrender. “What can I say? I had to lock it down.”

Cynthia giggles, covering her mouth shyly. Sarah gives them a deadpan expression. “What was the wedding like?”

“Simple,” Cynthia states. “Courthouse wedding with one of my best friends and one of hers at witnesses.”

“For now,” Ariana surmised with a sly smile. 

“And that means what exactly,” Sarah inquires.

“It means that as soon as this visa is secured, I’m giving her the wedding of her dreams.”

“So you did the courthouse wedding for green card purposes.”

Cynthia shakes her head firmly. “Not at all. We did it because we are in love and happy and didn’t want to wait any longer. The big wedding will just be a celebration of my secured status. With or without this visa process, we’d be married.” Ariana grabs her hand and kisses the back of it gently.

“Damn right.” She turns to the interviewer with a contrite look on her face. “Sorry.”

Sarah shrugs and continues through her list of questions. They run the gamut of daily life questions, like who sleeps on what side of the bed and what their mornings together look like, to their big rituals and celebrations. The women take turns answering and piggybacking off of each other’s responses for an hour or so, until the interviewer decides she has heard enough.

“Alright, ladies, that’s all I have for you today. You’ll hear from the office once a decision has been made. Any questions for me?”

Cynthia leans in a bit, fighting to hide the anxiety she is feeling at not knowing how they did. “How long will it be before we hear something?”

“Can’t really say for sure. Could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. It all depends on how long it takes to process everything.” The Brit nods, not really satisfied with the answer but knowing she has no choice but to wait a little bit longer.

“Come on, baby.” Ariana scratches her nails on the back of Cynthia’s neck gently. “Let’s go home and unwind.” Cynthia nods, taking Ariana’s hand and allowing herself to be led out of the office and back down the corridor towards the building exit.

Once they step outside and into the sun, Ariana turns to Cynthia, cupping her face with both hands immediately. “You okay? How do you feel about that?”

Cynthia takes a moment to think. “It was nervewracking, but I actually feel pretty good about it.”

Ariana smiles softly. “Me too. Need anything from me?” Cynthia ponders for a moment.

“A hug would be nice.” Ariana nods as her smile grows.

“I can definitely do that.” She pulls Cynthia into a long embrace, rubbing her hands over the Brit’s strong back muscles in a soothing manner. Cynthia buries her nose in the blonde’s neck, inhaling her sweet scent. She presses her body against Ariana’s, letting the other woman’s warmth wash over her. After a long moment, they pull apart. Ariana leans in and captures Cynthia’s mouth in a sweet, lingering kiss. “Alright, baby. Let’s get you home.”