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A lump forms in my throat. “Can you do me a favor?”
He regards me.
“If she dies… can you kill me, too?” My voice is hoarse, broken. I mean it with every fiber of my being. If she’s lying dead in the morgue, I want to be right next to her.
He sighs. Pats my shoulder. And he leaves me alone with Aurora’s words.
55
MANUSCRIPT
CHAPTER 7
Our wedding is not perfect. It’s not the fairy tale I thought I’d get. But then again, I thought I’d get married at twenty-six, maybe on the beach or something. It would be glamorous, but everyone would be barefoot. Because, you know,sand.
Instead, there’s just us and both of our mothers in an upstairs room of the local courthouse.
I wear a white dress. Something my mom surprised me with. There are tears in her eyes now, and I fight to keep my composure. It’s weird how emotional I am, too. I didn’t think I would be, leading up to this.
There’s a lot of different thoughts that go into marriage. I mean, for one: I’m promising my life to someone. My life that may or may not be short. It’s not guaranteed any more than a long and happy one is.
Whether or not this is a strategic move on Knox’s part, as a way to save my family, there are still emotions between us.Something that seems to be inching toward love. But as I told his mom, I don’t know if I love him. I don’t know what loveis.
There’s a surge of emotion when I see him. He wears a suit for me. It’s dark gray, with a white shirt and a gold tie. “Because you’re my sunshine,” he whispers.
I don’t roll my eyes.
I don’t find it cheesy—instead, it’s sweet.
“Ready?” he asks.
Am I?
I take a deep breath.
Outside, thunder booms. There’s one window in here, this room dedicated to courthouse weddings. Which, seeing as how it’s a room where people are tying their lives together, is rather plain.
“I’m ready,” I say to him, smiling a little.
My breathing doesn’t come easy these days. It took some time to organize this, to get the proper forms and signatures and approvals. And now we’re here, marriage license signed, for a judge to proclaim us husband and wife.
How strange.
“Sunny—”
The judge strides in. “Mr. Whiteshaw and Ms. McGovern?”
“That’s us,” I say.
I eye Knox and ponder what he might’ve been about to say. But his face is unusually pale, and he doesn’t try to finish his sentence. He does take my hand and lead me up to the judge, and it’s a little surreal.
We confirm our commitment. There’s a ring exchange—his mom hands him a slender, silver ring for my left hand, and my mom passes me the dark metal ring we found last week. I slip it on his finger, and he does the same.
“You may kiss the bride,” the judge says.
Knox and I lock eyes. My cheeks flush. Our kisses have been reserved for quiet spaces. For private moments that always seemed to be stolen or protected.
But he cups my jaw and tips my head up, and when he kisses me, I truly feel pretty. In a white dress, with a ring on my finger and flowers in my hair. Even if our fathers and his brother and my best friend aren’t here to witness it. Even if lightning flashes outside just as his lips touch mine.
