Quickie
My breath feels shallow in my chest, it’s too much information to process. “How can I believe you?”
“You don’t have to,” he says, “but I never sent that letter. I wanted to tell you about everything first. I wanted to give you the chance to leave before knowing what I would gain from being married to you. I was going to tell you last night. The rest of the papers on that table were the contract.”
I can’t fight the tears this time. “You lied to me.”
“I know,” he steps closer, “and I can’t ever expect you to forgive me, but I hope you will.”
“You love me?” I’m really crying now, my voice hiccupping.
His hands land on my shoulders. “I do.”
Fingers under my chin tilt my face up, and he kisses me, softly, tenderly, and the hole in my chest closes just a little, hurts a bit less. I love him, more than I ever thought. I do.
“I’ll give it up,” he says. “I won’t send the letter. It doesn’t matter to me anymore, because nothing matters if I don’t have you.”
I lean my head against his chest, completely aware that my tears are soaking into his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” Will says. “I know we did this backwards. But I love you. I really, fucking love you. So much, I can’t even tell you.”
It’s hard to find my voice, and when I do find it, it’s rough from the tears. “I love you too.”
Will arms tighten around me, and he tilts my head back so that I can see him. He kisses me, and it’s not like any kiss that we’ve shared before. This one is the first one that’s truly real on both sides, and we both know it. It’s all passion and fire and suddenly I feel like the whole world could be burning down around us and I’d still let him take me right here.
From elsewhere in the apartment, I hear Anna’s voice. “I’m happy for you both, but I swear to god if you have sex on my couch I will kick both your asses.”
We laugh, and even though I know that this isn’t perfect yet, and we’ll still have things to talk about, it’s no longer broken. “There’s one thing,” I say, pushing him back far enough so that I can see his face.
“Anything.”
“I want a wedding,” I say. “One that I can actually remember.”
He grins. “So we’re staying married?”
“You think I’d let you go after we just managed to find each other?”
Suddenly I’m swept into his arms and out Anna’s front door. “In that case, Mrs. Herrington, allow me to carry you across a threshold. And straight back to our house.”
“Our house,” I say, playing with the way the phrase rolls on my tongue. “I like it.”
“I love it,” he says.
I laugh as the elevator door close behind us, and we’re finally, truly, together.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Herrington.”
There’s a wave of sound and cheering from our friends as we appear in the gorgeous ballroom of the Emerald Hotel in Las Vegas. It seemed like an appropriate place to hold the wedding, and the place is so beautiful, I can’t imagine a better venue for our reception.
Will’s hand is in mine, and neither of us can stop smiling. My friends swarm me, Anna, Elizabeth, and Naomi all in their bridesmaid dresses, chattering about how beautiful the ceremony was. It feels like a fairytale. I don’t have time to talk long. I’m swept into the reception line with Will, and there are so many people that I can barely register all their faces. I’m mostly aware of Will’s hand on my waist, of when he looks down at me and smiles, of when his hand brushes mine sending electric sparks along my skin.
Mr. Herrington Sr. comes through the reception line. We’ve met once before, and it’s clear he was hoping that his son would marry someone a little more high class. He’s not the friendliest person, but I have a feeling that I can win him over with time. I’ve got plenty of it, he and the family are stuck with me now. But Will’s sister and I are practically best friends, and I couldn’t ask for a better sister-in-law.
When the long line of people finally ends, Will escorts me to our table. “I’m starving.”
“Me too. Let me grab us some food. It’ll be faster since I’m not the one in the giant dress.”
I laugh. “Kind of you.”
He kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
It feels so good to sit down. No one tells you how just how exhausting your own wedding can be. My mom, who’s seated at a table right in front of me waves to get my attention, then she points to the door. There, standing at the door, is Laura. I sent her an invitation, but I didn’t expect her to come. I gesture for my mother to bring her over to the corner of the room. I haven’t spoken to Laura since her engagement party, and if there’s going to be a scene I don’t want it to be in the middle of the ballroom. She looks down as I approach.