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Cerys’s longer hair is braided away from her face with tiny white flowers in the plaits, her eyes wide and tearful.Oh fuck, don’t cry, Cerys.
When tears spill down her cheeks I do what I always do; I take her face, rub them away with my thumbs, lean in, and kiss the salty warmth from her cheeks.
“You look fucking amazing,” I say.
“Don’t swear,” she whispers, indicating Ella with her head, but smiling at my slip-up.
“But you do; you’re beautiful.”
Then I catch sight of her necklace with the gold heart pendant resting just above my favourite part of Cerys. She squeezes my hand in a small warning and I grin at her. “You’re wearing my heart.”
“Always,” she whispers.
Nobody else exists outside this moment, a snapshot in time that I’ll hold in my heart forever. Cerys touches my freshly shaved cheek, the emotion in her face unmistakable and I can’t breathe.
“I love you, Liam.”
So, I’m supposed to wait until we’re married to kiss the bride? Fuck that.
