The Marriage Sacrifice

“But there would still be strippers. You know, men who take their clothes off. I’d see them naked and get to compare…”

“Not going to happen. There is nothing to compare this to.” He took her lips once again. “You feel that?”

“Nope.”

“I think you do, and I think that is what scares you, Sage.”

“Nothing scares me.”

“You’re starting to have feelings for me.”

“In your dreams.”

“You feature in my dreams a lot, sweetness.”

She stared at him, not really knowing what else to say.

“I’m not going to have a bachelor party. For my night I’m sitting at home, enjoying a drink, wishing you cooked for me. That’s how I’m going to spend my last night of being single.”

“You will no longer be free.”

“Sage, I don’t want to be free or single anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I want to be married to you. I want this. I don’t know how else to explain it to you.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“What is there to believe?”

“I know there’s a guy somewhere right now holding a camera. He’s probably taken a gazillion photos of us right now.”

“Probably. Again, why can’t you believe me? You think this is an act?”

“Isn’t it? You’re playing your part for the camera?” She was clutching at straws. For a split second she was sure he looked devastated, and she felt like the worst bitch in the world. What kind of woman accuses her fiancé of lying, days before the wedding all because of the press?

“One moment please,” he said.

He let go of her hands and stood up.

“Dom, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to take care of a little problem.” He glanced around the park. There were a lot of families. The sun was glorious as was the heat. They had picked one of the rare spots near a shaded tree, but now, Dom stepped out into the glaring sunlight and she watched as had advanced across the ground to a guy who was sitting on one of the benches. He’d been able to blend in, but she watched as Dom pulled out a checkbook, wrote in it, and handed the guy a check.

Within seconds he had the camera the guy was holding, and was coming back to her.

He dropped down on their blanket and held out the camera.

“This, I believe, is what you were after.”

“You paid him?”

“Those pictures are ours.” He turned the camera on, and she leaned over, seeing so many pictures of them.

There were lots, and that wasn’t an exaggeration.

Each step of him feeding her a strawberry, even down to licking the cream from her chest.

The way they looked at each other, she couldn’t help but wonder if others believed them to be in love.

“I think we take pictures well. What about you?” he asked, holding up another from seconds before he took the camera from the guy.

He held her hands and was staring intently.

It shocked her how easily the camera could lie. One glance at the picture and it looked like they were in love, and the truth was, they were far from it.

Or were they?

“So, you took the pictures.”

“I’m proving to you that this isn’t an act. I want to be with you, every second of every day.” He took her hands again, facing her. “I don’t want or need a bachelor party. I’m not scared of what the future holds. I know this isn’t what you wanted from life. I hope during our time together I can make it up to you.”

“You really think we can make this work?”

“We haven’t killed each other, and I don’t know about you, but I love hanging out with you. I can’t cook to save my life, so you’re going to be the one doing all the cooking.”

“I’m teaching you, remember?” She smiled, recalling the disasters they’d been having of late.

Dom really couldn’t cook, and she was starting to believe he really shouldn’t cook. She had learned her lesson though, and all cooking lessons were at his place. He’d nearly burned down his kitchen as he’d left a towel near an open flame on his gas stove.

Instead of throwing the burning towel into the sink and pouring water on it, he opened up the soup pot and threw the burning item inside. They couldn’t eat the soup, and all of his hard work had been wasted. That night they did end up ordering takeout.

He’d nearly sliced off a finger while making a sandwich.

The sandwich had forced her to make him take a break. She had never known anyone so … disastrous in the kitchen, and to save them both, she had decided to go back to basics with him.

At least he now had a full kitchen of everything.

“Your teaching leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Hey! The student isn’t much good either.”

He laughed. “I’m doing better.”

“You’re not even cooking.”

“I’m excellent at observing.”

“True, true.”