Page 114 of Only Be Mine

“Trevor,” the reverend prompted, “you may begin.”

He smiled at me, soft and confident, the smile that always reassured other people. The one that said I know what I’m doing.

“Cate,” he said, his voice carrying easily through the church, “from the moment I met you, I knew you were someone special. You’re thoughtful. Loyal. You bring calm into every room you walk into.”

A few guests murmured approvingly.

“I promise to take care of you,” he continued. “To protect what we have. To build a life where you never have to doubt where you belong.”

My chest tightened, not painfully, just… strangely.

“I promise to be patient when things feel uncertain,” he said, squeezing my hands. “To guide us when the path isn’t clear. To always put us first, even when it’s hard.

“I promise that you’ll never have to face the world alone again,” he finished. “You’re my wife now. My family. And I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”

His smile deepened as he said it, proud and certain.

The church was quiet as the reverend turned to me.

“Cate.”

My mouth felt dry. I swallowed and nodded, tightening my fingers around Trevor’s hands like they were an anchor.

“I, um…” I cleared my throat. “Trevor… you’ve always been someone I could rely on. You’re steady. You show up. You make plans and follow through.” A small, nervous laugh slipped out of me. “You remind me that not everything has to feel so complicated.

“I promise to stand by you,” I said, my voice steadier now. “To support you. To work through the hard days, even when it feels uncomfortable.”

Especially then.

“I promise to choose us,” I continued. “To keep trying. To be honest. To grow - together.”

My throat tightened, but I pushed through it.

“And I promise to love you,” I finished softly. “The best way I know how.”

Trevor squeezed my hands again, satisfied.

The reverend smiled. “By the power vested in me...”

I barely heard the rest.

“See?” Trevor murmured. “That wasn’t so hard.”

His hands were firm at my waist as he dipped me, his kiss practiced and assured. Applause rose around us.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reeder,” the reverend announced.

The name felt strange, like it didn’t quite fit, but I smiled anyway.

After all, that was what I did.

We turned toward our guests, smiling, waving, playing our parts. Applause followed us down the aisle, warm and loud and meant for someone else. Relief washed through me, sharp and unexpected. Was that normal? To feel relief instead of joy when it was finally over?

The moment we cleared the aisle, Trevor’s hand found my arm. Not rough. Not gentle. Just direct and claiming.

I barely had time to register it before a voice cut in, bright and efficient.

“Perfect, don’t go anywhere,” the photographer said, stepping into our path just beyond the sanctuary doors. “We’ll start right here.”