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“You’ve always had to go your own way.”
Unable to stay depressed for long, I grin and say, “You really finished it?”
“It runs perfectly. You should take it back with you.”
For only the second time I can remember, I’m crying. I don’t deserve to be loved like this. But I am. I’m truly, truly loved.
It doesn’t oppress me, it doesn’t make me feel like I owe something I can’t possibly repay. I just feel so fucking grateful.
My mom helps me zip up my dress.
I fix my makeup one last time and we stand by the door, her arm around my waist, my head resting on hers.
“You ready?” she says.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
* * *
Adrik
Control – Zoe Wees
Spotify → geni.us/savage-spotify
Apple Music → geni.us/savage-apple
I waiton the sand for Sabrina.
The sun is just beginning to sink down to the lake, the sky rich with every shade of scarlet and orange above the dark blue water.
Jasper, Kade, and Sabrina’s brother Damien are standing up with me. Damien strongly resembles Sabrina, something that endeared him to me at once. He’s smart like her, and I suspect he shares her wicked streak, though he hides it better.
Nix, Cara, and Ilsa are the bridesmaids, barefoot and dressed in gauzy light gowns. They look like naiads, like they might have just come up from the water and taken human form on the sand.
The waves roll in gently, the breeze soft against my skin.
Everything is perfect. Or it will be when my bride appears.
I watch for her, anxious, shifting in place.
I see her the moment she steps out of the bridal suite. She crosses the grass, her mother helping to carry the train of her gown.
The closer she gets, the harder it is to look at her. The evening light bathes her skin, illuminating every inch of her until she shines like burnished bronze. Her gown is deep crimson, vibrant and alive.
She’s so stunning that I can’t believe she belongs to me. I can’t even believe she’s real.
She walks toward me. For the first time in my life I’m nervous, hands shaking, legs weak.
Then she smiles at me, and everything is right again.
I hold out my hand to her.
She slips her fingers into mine, standing close beside me, holding on tight.
My father performs the ceremony. It’s brief and honest—no religion, no tradition, no rote words.
Sabrina and I say our vows to each other:
