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We both laugh, and I hold her warm hands. If I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll wake up from this dream and be alone again.
“I would do the whole song and dance,” the priest drawls, eyeing Maeve, “but I was ordered to make it quick.”
“We don’t have all night, Father,” Killian quips, arm snug around my sister’s waist. “We’re on borrowed time.”
“Right.” He turns toward us, clasping his hands over his front.
“People often say love is as delicate as a flower, soft and unassuming. It’s uncomplicated and understandable. I say it’s different.” His words wash over me, and Valentina shudders. “It’s rough and calloused. It’s selfish and consuming. It’s what burns in the middle of the night, sometimes us, sometimes to scare away the ghosts. But it’s also what keeps us warm when the world goes cold.
“It’s as sharp as a dagger, able to wound with very little effort. And it’s as soothing as the sun’s rays on a bright summer day. It is pain and suffering, and you will experience all of that during marriage. It cannot always be comfort and ease. That’s just life.
“But there will be days when things are hard, and the one you’ve chosen to be with will be your tether through the uncertainty. They will ground you. Cherish you. Hold you when the world will not. They will be your safe place when nothing feels safe. And their love will be the one thing you’ll return to, day after day. You will choose this pain, because to not have it would be a much worse fate. That’s what makes marriage worth it. That’s what true love is—it’s blistering, difficult, but the kindest cruelty that we all hope to obtain.”
He holds out his hand to Killian. “The rings, please.”
Killian doesn’t remove his lips from my sister’s head, muttering something into her ear as he deposits the bands into the priest’s hand.
As the priest holds the three rings up, Valentina gasps. The diamond in the middle is gorgeous—for a few million, it better be—but it’s how it sits in the center of the starburst gold bands. The oval stone rises from tiny clusters of diamonds, spread out like a star.
He hands them to me, and quietly, I slide all three onto her finger. Grinning, I wink at her. “You’re my everything, a diamond plucked from the sky and given to me for God knows what reason. I certainly don’t deserve it. But you deserve the world—and more. It seemed only right to have a ring that reflected your otherworldliness.”
She sniffles, stealing my ring from the old man’s hand.
It’s a thick golden band, with a vein of emerald down the middle. She holds it next to my eyes and smiles brightly. When she slides it on, it becomes a heavy link, chaining us together. I fucking love it.
“Do you take—”
“I do,” I sign, words stuck in my throat. I want her to feel seen, and this seemed the best way.
The priest laughs. “Do you—”
“I do,” she exclaims, and throws her arms around my neck. This time, she initiates the kiss, body pressed to mine. My arms wrap around her waist, and I inhale everything she gives me. It’s the middle of the night, the air cool, and yet, my body ignites at her proximity. Everywhere I touch her, I burn, as if I’m hovering beside the sun.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Holy shit. She’s really mine.
The old man sighs, exasperated. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Lowering her to the ground, she holds my face and presses our foreheads together.
She signs, “I love you.”
I do the same.
Laughing, she rips herself away and launches herself at her guard. He spins her, and the giggle she releases is almost childlike. Something precious soars in my chest at her happiness. Because I’ve made her that happy.
Maeve saddles up to my side, and we gaze at her, captivated by her joy. It’s infectious, making my serious sister smile.
“Congratulations,” she whispers. “I’m proud of you.”
I wink down at her. “That I got married?”
“That you found love.” She crosses her arms as a breeze ruffles our hair. “It’s not easy to do in this life.”
Elbowing her, I jerk my head at the Reaper, handing the priest an envelope of money. Classy.
“But you did. Regret not tying the knot?”
