“Thanks. I…really don’t know how I’m going to explain anything. I can’t express enough how this just…happened.”
“Just happened?” Lukas asks, a brow arched as Clara prepares his plate for him. “How do youjust happento get married?”
Morana looks at me. “How indeed.”
I demystify the situation: “It involves bribing neighbors and paying off a magistrate.”
“What?” Viktor interjects.
“You know something, brother dear?” I smile as my sandwich comes together. “You don’t need to worry about that. All that matters is that Morana and I are married now, everyone’s favorite couple officially together, woo.” I crunch a bite out of my sandwich.
“Congratulations, squirt,” Lukas says.
“Maelin and I were placing bets on it being a triple wedding in April,” Zakery notes.
Maelin squeaks. “No, we weren’t.”
Yeah, they totally were.
I swallow. “I wouldn’t have lasted till April. I have no idea how Viktor’s managing.”
“Poorly,” he grunts, gazing at Crisis in such a way that suggests he’s regularly tortured with want of her.
Ah, yes. I used to know the feeling, but no more. Now, I live in merriness and cheer.
See if having a wife and stable rest doesn’t alter my archetype completely. Just call usreverse grumpy/sunshinenow. Judging by the pouting divot currently making a home beneath my lover’s lip, she maintains all her precious grumpiness. WhileIam smiling.Radiant.
She catches my eye, and her little frown softens until the divot settles. Thensheis radiant, too.
Huh. Maybe boiling either of our characters down to merelygrumpyorsunshineis asinine.
As she takes a bite of her sandwich, she rests her shoulder against my arm, and I find myself falling in love with her—all over again.
Chapter 23
?
What a…fresh, fun, coolbitthis is.
Morana
Talira:I miss you.
Talira:I wish we could catch up.
Talira:Please, Ana. Don’t do this to me anymore.
My stomach knots as I stare at the texts I seem to have missed while I was enjoying the warmth of a family welcoming me in every feasible way and learning what it means to be absolutely, unequivocally, earth-shatteringly adored by my husband.
Kyran loves me.
He can’t even help himself with how much he loves me. If we’re in the same room, he’s looking at me. He getsstuckin it, dazed, smiling.
The effort I’ve been putting in to let him love me has cut down the separation I impose between myself and the people I’m most scared to lose. I can feel it. I can see it. Because I’m letting myself. Within a matter of days, I’ve regained my sister’s closeness, a house full of safety, and a faith in myself that I thought was gone forever.
These people don’t ask anything of me. The expectation doesn’t exist. I am allowed tobewhoever I am however I am, and the tension falls away. I wake into it. I drift off with it.
There is love.
