The Husband Game

“I need to talk to Charlie,” I whisper.

“You can’t.” Fiona looks scandalized. “He can’t see you before you walk up the aisle.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re really holding to that?”

“It’s a traditional wedding, remember?” Fiona shakes her head. “Let me handle it, okay? I’ll talk to him. See what he thinks.” Without another word, she ducks away from me, leaving me standing there next to the officiant feeling stunned. Thrown for a loop.

And somehow, despite all of that… excited. Like this really is my wedding day. The start of a new chapter.

When I glance over, the officiant is eying me. “Nervous?” he asks.

“You have no idea,” I joke.

He just smiles. “Don’t be. I’ve seen a lot of weddings like this, the small, less ostentatious ones. Those relationships, in my experience, are always the ones that prove the truest. You and Mr. Cross will do just fine together.”

I want to believe him so fucking badly. But I have an entire life’s worth of history arguing otherwise in my head. Not to mention the fact that I’m specifically going into this marriage to try and make it fail.

My stomach churns. But when the pre-processional music starts, I take the arm my mother offers, and let her lead me to the back of the church.

“You’d better be getting paid damn well for this, that’s all I’ll say,” my mother mutters under her breath.

I nod along with her, unable to make my mouth work properly. Or to think too hard about what I’m doing. What I’m about to swear to.

Then it’s too late to back out or change anything. The music swells, and Mom and I enter the chapel, my hand tucked under her arm.

The moment I meet his gaze, any lingering fear and doubt is swept away. Because Charlie looks incredible. Perfectly handsome in his pressed suit, his honest gaze fixed on me. The way his eyes widen, and his breath catches when he sees me, too…

I couldn’t ask for anything more. Couldn’t want anything more than him, the man watching me walk up the aisle without flinching, without trying to back out or turn tail and run.

Charlie isn’t your father, I remind myself as we near the front of the chapel. He won’t leave. At least, not until you make him.

And maybe I won’t have to. Maybe I could avoid all of the pain I’d signed up for. Maybe we could make this work for real.

As if reading my mind, when we reach the front of the chapel, my mother pulls to a halt, and tugs at my hand until I turn toward her. She leans up to kiss my cheek. “Follow your heart, my darling,” she whispers softly. “Do what makes you happy, all right? Not whatever you think anyone else is telling you to do. Only you know what you want from your life.”

Words of wisdom. Words that I want so badly to follow.

She pats my cheek one last time and retreats to her seat at the front of the chapel, and then I’m facing Charlie alone across the altar as the officiant reads a short welcoming paragraph. In the front row, I notice Charlie’s mother daubing at her cheeks with her fingertips, until mine leans over to offer her a handkerchief. They smile at one another, and a knot in my heart eases.

Behind Charlie, Mark offers me a cheeky little salute.

I smile at him. Then look at Charlie again. Our eyes lock. This is real, I mouth, because he needs to know. If nothing else, he needs to know what he’s getting into. Be given one last chance to back out.

But Charlie just keeps his gaze steady on mine, unphased. I know.

He knows. Fiona caught him in time and told him, and he’s still standing here. He still wants to do this. My heart feels so full it could burst, like it’s pushing at the seams of my ribcage, straining to escape my chest.

The officiant turns to me. “Do you, Lila, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

Death, I think to myself. Not any magazine articles or job requirements. Death only can part us. Suddenly, my shoulders straighten, my resolve hardening. “I do,” I say, quiet yet firm.

“And do you, Charlie, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

He holds my gaze. Never wavering. Not backing down from any challenge, least of all this one. “I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me…” The rest drains to a background hum. The only thing I hear is the word kiss, before Charlie steps to me, bends to kiss me, hard and fast. I wrap my arms around his neck, arch up against him, as our families cheer.

When we break apart, every face in the room is smiling, despite any misgivings or worries they may have. Our families are here for us. No matter what.