“Marriage,” the officiant says, smiling gently, “is a promise to keep choosing each other every day, in every way.”
Reed’s thumb brushes the back of my hand. He leans in slightly, his voice low and rough.
“You look so beautiful, baby.”
My heart pounds against my chest as the world shrinks down to just him and me.
The officiant nods. “Reed, your vows.”
Reed clears his throat, his voice already thick with emotion.
“Layla,” he starts, his voice gruff and soft at the edges. His hand shakes a little as he intertwines our fingers, his palm’s warmth calming my hand.
His thumb gently moves over my knuckles, slowly andwith reverence. “I used to believe I was done,” he says, inhaling sharply. His eyes briefly glance down, catching the light, then return to mine, brimming with unspoken feelings. “I thought the fire had taken everything worth loving.”
His throat works as he swallows hard, a faint sheen of tears gathering along his lashes. “Thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life patchin’ holes that couldn’t be filled.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he huffs out a breath, his mouth twitching at the corners.
He meets my gaze and looks at me—truly looks—and a soft, trembling smile appears on his lips. “Then you showed up,” he murmurs, gently squeezing my hand. “You looked at me, and suddenly I didn’t feel broken anymore.”
He exhales slowly, his forehead nearly touching mine. “You stitched me back together just by stayin’.”
His voice cracks, and he swallows hard as tears start to surface. “You’re my home, sunshine. My reason. The proof that even the burned-out parts can bloom again.”
My vision becomes completely blurred.
I hear Catalina sniffling somewhere behind me, and even Carter is pretending to rub his eye.
When it’s my turn, I can barely get the words out.
“Reed,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I look up at him. My hands shake, so I tighten my grip on my bouquet, trying to steady myself. My chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, every word caught in my throat.
“When I first met you, I was quietly hurting,” I whisper, with trembling lips and tears blurring my sight.
Reed’s thumb softly brushes the back of my hand, providing comfort and silent encouragement to continue. “I was afraid, truly convinced that love existed only in other people’s stories.”
His gaze softens, his green eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion.
I swallow hard, my voice breaking as I go on. “But you saw me, really saw me, and you called me beautiful.”
Reed’s jaw tightens, a flicker of emotion passing over his face. He softly squeezes my hand.
I softly say, “You showed me that strength isn’t loud,” as I wipe away a tear trailing down my cheek. “It’s gentle. It’s steady. It’s you.”
A shaky breath escapes me as I lift his hand between us, my thumb gently tracing the small tattoo on his ring finger—444. The same number is also on my finger, concealed beneath lace and gold, symbolizing soulmates, protection, and divine alignment.
My voice softens to a whisper, trembling with emotion. “We were always meant to find each other,” I whisper, gently touching his scarred knuckles. “The universe connected us long before we met—an invisible thread that guided me directly to you.”
Reed’s breath catches, his eyes shining as he presses our intertwined hands against his heart. The space between us vibrates, alive with all we’ve endured, created, and still have to face.
He smiles through tears, his eyes gleaming. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you more.”
The officiant’s voice resonates through the chapel, gradually turning into a gentle hum in my mind. He discusses promises, forever, and love as a daily choice—yet all I focus on is him.
Reed’s thumb slowly circles my hand, his rough skin against mine, grounding me when I feel like I might drift away. His chest rises and falls unevenly as he breathes, andhis lips tremor into a smile he can’t suppress—a tear balances on his lashes, catching the sunlight through his glasses.
The officiant finally says, “Do you, Reed Hayes, take Layla LeBlanc to be your wife?”
