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You are my constant. You are my shelter and my storm. My heart and my soul.
Today is meant to make me all yours. To tie me to you in every possible way.
But you’ve had me from the get-go. I’ve been caught up in you from the off.
I’ve always been yours. I will always be yours.
Flesh of my flesh—Blood of my blood.
I choose you for life.
I chose you yesterday. I choose you today. I will choose you tomorrow.
Eternally, my love.
I can’t wait to marry you, big man. It’s the best thing I’ll ever do.
Your trouble.
“Drink?” Leo holds out a tumbler. “Figured one won’t hurt.”
I take the vodka and drink it in one, hoping to get myself in check. The girl always manages to surprise me. When I think I’ve seen and experienced everything, she pulls out another stop.
Clearing my throat, I stand and straighten my jacket. “Let’s go.”
I’m not waiting anymore.
FLEUR
My heart is pounding. I’m struggling to breathe at all. The chapel doors are closed, and I’m standing on my own staring at the ornately carved wood. A crucifix cuts down the middle of the double doors.
The moon and the sun are interlinked on the top right with stars surrounding them, a tree being constricted by a large snake on the left, opposite it. Then on the bottom there’s a similar carving to the painting on the ceiling. There’s no blood, just the dagger and the stars.
It reminds me of the breakdown the priest gave us of the wedding ceremony. Of what will happen. I shudder slightly because it seems so intimate, and maybe we should’ve done this with just the two of us.
The panel on the bottom left is of the man and the woman too, except this time, they’re both in the foetal position. Her head on his feet and his head on her ankles. A bit like a yin and yang, except that his position throws it off a tad.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I turn to the familiar, deep voice.
And tears instantly fill my eyes. I feel so emotional right now. It’s not like I’m nervous or anything. I’m overwhelmed by how not nervous I am. I’m overwhelmed by how much I want to do this. It never dawned on me that this would happen to me. Or that I would allow it to.
“You’re here.”
Francis smiles. He looks so dapper in his black suit. A short salt-and-pepper beard shadows his jaw. And his brown eyes look almost as tear-logged as mine.
“I would never miss this,” he says while he stands beside me.
He arranges the dark veil so that it falls between us.
It wasn’t my idea, not something that I particularly wanted, but it holds meaning to their religious practice. It’s a simple weathered thing trimmed with yellowing lace, held on by the weighty tiara that Beatriz insisted I wear. It has the same stones as Casper’s crucifix.
Sangre por la vida. Piedad del enemigo. Salvación para sobrevivir. Esperanza para amar. Paz en la muerte.
Blood to live. Mercy for the enemy. Salvation to survive. Hope to love. Peace in death.
Francis takes my hand, linking my arm with his. I hold on tight as he walks us up to the doors.
My heart speeds up a bit more. I’m sure that any minute now, I’m going to faint from the way my blood is rushing around my body.
