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“Cold feet?” he asked, no expression on his face.
“I don’t want you to regret it, Madd. I’m a nobody. I make more mistakes than anyone, and I do stupid shit that almost gets you killed. I’m shit at everything, and I’m afraid you’re gonna get sick of putting up with me eventually.”
“If you doubt me one more time, I’ll be wheeling you to that shitty Oak on our wedding day. Stop thinking you know what the future holds.”
“I bring nothing to this relationship!”
“Neither do I!” he shouted back. “And you want me to do ya one better?” he asked, turning this into a competition over who was the biggest piece of shit. “You want kids someday, Dev?”
Okay, not where I thought he was going with that. “I’d be a shit dad.”
“No you wouldn’t,” he said. “But I’ve got a criminal record, so if you want kids someday, we’re going to have to steal one because no adoption agency is going to let me adopt a kid. So, maybe you should be the one to think long and hard about if you wanna marry me.”
His charges were dropped, but he had a record because his case went to trial, so I understood what he meant. “Cold feet?”
“I’m serious, Devon. Because of that prison time, I’ll be fucked for shit like that, and I don’t want to hold you back from the things you want. I don’t want to get five years down the road and have you resent me for it.”
“We’re so backwards,” I laughed, leaning against him again. “We probably should have talked about this far sooner than two weeks before the wedding.” I tilted my head back to look at him, and the honest vulnerability in his eyes broke something inside me. “You aren’t the only one with a record. You might have done four months hard time, but I’ve got a laundry list of petty crimes attached to my name, too. We’re even on that one,babe.”
He scoffed. “Stop trying to be like me.”
“Madd, I just want you. We can barely take care of ourselves half the time, so I’m not even thinking about kids. I’d get a squirrel or something. A fucking iguana or some shit before I ever tried to have a kid. Like as a test, you know?” He didn’t answer, so I moved on. “You know how many people look for what we have?” I asked him.
“A half-cocked relationship fuelled by aggression and bullshit?” he asked.
“Love. Real love. And we aren’t half-cocked. We’re full throttle, even if we go too fast for our own good sometimes. We might be shit at most things, but I honestly think we’re…” I hesitated.
“Oh, God. Please do not say what I think you’re about to say,” he groaned.
“Fuck you. I’m saying it anyway. We’re soulmates, Madd.”
“Pathetic,” he groaned, laughing.
“Yeah, I’m pathetically in love with you, and I can hate you for it all I want. So, rich or poor, kids or no kids, a home or homeless, we’re destined for the same bleak future. Live with it.”
“Wasn’t I supposed to be the one pumping your tires and easing your self-doubt?” he asked sarcastically.
“Yeah, but now I’m fluffing your pillow, so deal with it. We’re fate.”
“Mm,” he mused. “That’s why I didn’t die when I got shot, eh? I was fighting to get back to my fated soulmate. You held my soul hostage and didn’t let me go to the light.”
I knew he was being a dick and making fun of me, but I laughed anyway. “Damn right. Not even death can rip us apart, soulmate.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yeah, asshole still fits better,” I agreed.
“Thanks for saving me, Devon. That time, all the times, when we met, just in general. I love you, and no matter what doubts you have about our marriage, we’ll prove them all wrong. Somehow.”
“Who’s lame now?” I turned around, wrapping my arms around his neck and straddling his lap. “I love you.”
“You turned me into this pathetic version of myself,” he blamed me. “But I love you, and I want to marry you, so let’s just be happy about it, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed.
Hopefully, our wedding didn’t turn into a murder scene if my dad decided to show up.
“Whatthehell,Nate?No. I’m not wearing that,” I said to my brother and the suit he held up. “Suits are for court and funerals. This is a wedding.”
