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“Thank you,” I whisper, and she laughs softly.
“Who has the rings?”
“Oh, that would be me.” My father steps up, slipping a hand into his inner pocket and withdrawing a pair of gold bands. He offers Aspen an almost apologetic look. “These will have to do for now.” If he knew her like I do, he would know there’s no need for an apology. She isn’t the sort of girl who places high value on things. Items. I intend to spoil the hell out of her once we’re out of this, but not because she demands it. Because she deserves it.
And because it’s a hell of a lot of fun to spoil someone who doesn’t expect it.
The priest takes the rings and places them on his open Bible before murmuring a prayer. “These rings are a symbol of eternity,” he explains. “A circle has no beginning or ending, as love has neither a beginning nor an end. They symbolize the eternal nature of your love and devotion.”
We look from the rings to each other. Love and devotion. My heart swells because, yes, I am devoted to her. Even without the presence of a priest or prayers or promises, I’m devoted to nothing more than her protection. She’s my world. And I could have lost her. Reminding myself of that only makes her seem more precious.
“Quinton, you may go first.” With my heart in my throat, I reach for the smaller of the two bands. “Repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed.”
Simple words, but they mean everything. How many people have said them without any idea what it would mean to uphold their vows? How many times have they been broken at the slightest hint of conflict or adversity?
Yet here we are, having already faced more than most couples face over an entire lifetime. Is it too much to hope as I slide the cold metal over Aspen’s waiting finger that we’ve gotten all of the adversity out of the way already?
I make it a point to look her in the eye so she knows I mean it. “With this ring, I thee wed.” This time Mom blurts out a sob, and I glance her way. She shakes her head, waving a hand for us to go on.
“And you, Aspen.” She glances at the priest before taking the ring in her hand. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
What’s going through her head? Everything that went through mine and still is? I search her face for any sign of it, but all I see is her beauty. The way she glows. Is that hope shining in her eyes? Is she as hopeful as I am?
“With this ring, I thee wed.” She slides the ring on my finger. A perfect fit. I closed my hand around hers. It’s almost too much to believe, but the ring is on my hand. And it’s not coming off, not for anything, not ever. I would sooner cut off my finger than ever remove it. Somehow, I know I would still feel it. Just like nothing could ever remove her from my soul.
“Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you are husband and wife.” The priest smiles intelligently. “Quinton, you may kiss your lovely bride.”
That’s it. A few simple words, and we’re different than we were before. We’re joined completely, body and soul. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart.
“Mrs. Rossi,” I murmur, taking her face in my hands, noting the dampness on her cheeks. She tips her head back, offering her lips, and I press mine to them. It’s a brief, chaste kiss for the sake of everyone around us, but I offer it with everything in me. I only hope she feels all I’ve put into it.
Judging by her soft smile when we break the kiss, I think she does.
There’s not much time to reflect on that before my mother mauls me. “I’m sorry!” She laughs, squeezing me tight. “I’m just so happy. It was so beautiful.” Scarlet, meanwhile, accepts the bouquet from Brittney, who then wraps Aspen in a fierce hug.
Dad steps up and thrusts out a hand. “Congratulations, Son.”
“Thank you.” Before he can let go, I clasp his hand tighter, making him turn back to me with surprise. “I mean it. Thank you.” It doesn’t seem like nearly enough, but it’s all I feel like I can say in mixed company. He seems to understand anyway, nodding before thanking the priest for his help.
“Congratulations to the two of you.” Lucas looks anything but joyous. I hardly need to be reminded of our situation, but his tense expression brings it all back. “I hate to be a wet blanket, but it would be best if Aspen were returned to the cell until the founders’ meeting takes place.”
“How much longer until that happens?” Aspen asks.
