Married?
Today?
Draven holds the phone away from his ear while Pierre screeches on the other end of the line. His voice is loud enough to make out what he’s saying now. “You can’t just pick and choose when to be responsible, you prick! Just like you can’t pick and choose when to think about kitchen safety. If you were more consistent—”
“Our mother would still be alive,” Draven finishes for him, something new in his tone. Realization. Freedom. “Yeah, I’m not going to let you hold that over my head anymore. Believe me, I’ve punished myself enough for the both of us. But, uh…” His chest rises and falls on a breath. “I’m done with the guilt. I’m choosing to be happy. Goodbye, Pierre. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hangs up the phone before his brother has a chance to respond.
I view my fiancé through a blurred lens of tears, my heart bursting with happiness for so many reasons. One, we’re getting married today. But more importantly, he has loosened the chains of guilt that have shackled him for so long. He’s free.
With a watery sound, I bound off the couch and launch myself into his arms.
“I couldn’t have done that without you, Claire,” he whispers into my hair, his arms banding around me like steel, his masculine musk filling my nose, my head, his rich heat reaching me through the borrowed T-shirt. “Please become my wife today. I never want to be apart from you. I want my life and yours to be one and the same.Always.”
“I want that, too,” I murmur, laying my cheek on his shoulder. “Make me yours, Draven.”
When I left home, I only packed one dress, and I wear it now to get married.
It’s pink with cap sleeves and a tiny bow between my breasts. It’s a little too short to be appropriate for the courthouse, but the skirt is flowy with a lace hem, which is my version of fancy. Unfortunately, all I have to wear with it are my white sneakers and socks, and the ensemble makes me look young. Too young to be getting married.
At least, that appears to be the opinion of everyone we pass in the courthouse.
Draven holds my hand proudly within his and I walk at his side while we go through the process of procuring the marriage license and receive our time to appear before the judge. While we’re waiting, I sit in his lap and we talk about the future. Opening our own restaurant on the dramatic Maine coastline and collecting Michelin stars one by one with our secret recipes. We talk about having babies. At least two. A boy and a girl. We’ll take them to summer in the south of France while Draven learns new tricks from the local chefs.
Soon enough, it’s time to stand before the judge, and Draven carries me to the civil ceremony chambers, my sneakers dangling over his arm.
The judge’s eyes bug out of his head when we arrive, visibly shocked by the difference in our ages. But neither one of us cares. We face each other and I tilt my head all the way back, so I can stare up into the eyes of my man. My lover, my husband.
The Daddy I didn’t know I needed but needed so desperately.
And I know he needs me back,profoundly, because it’s written in his tender expression.
I’m caught off guard when Draven produces rings from the pocket of his dress pants.
“Where did you get those?” I breathe in awe. “When?”
“It’s a good thing you take long showers,” he chuckles. “There’s a jewelry store on the same block as our building.” He slides the gold band on to my finger, and I do the same for him, Draven dipping his chin in relief when they’re the perfect fit. “I couldn’t marry the most incredible girl in the world without a ring.”
“I love you so much,” I whisper.
We kiss to seal our union, and I leap into his arms with a laugh, wrapping my legs around his hips and nuzzling my face into the slope of his neck. With one hand supporting my backside and the other on the back of my head, Draven carries me from the courthouse through a sea of judgment that we acknowledge to each other with a wry smile.
“What do you say we have a mini honeymoon?”
I lay a long, dreamy kiss on his mouth. “I say, take me anywhere. As long as we’re together.”
He walks in the direction of downtown, just as the sun is beginning to dip low in the sky. “You never have to worry about that, Claire. Never.”
Chapter Twelve
Draven
As soon as humanly possible, I’m going to bring my new wife on a proper honeymoon. Florence. Honolulu. The Swiss Alps. Wherever she wants to go. For now, however, while I’m still tied up in Tartine and we only have the night to celebrate our marriage, I settle for bringing her to a carnival. Carrying her through the city, I noticed the lights on the far edge of the metropolis and continue walking in that direction, content to have her wrapped around me.
We reach the carnival as darkness falls and I buy us two tickets, bringing her inside.
Other men pass by me envying what I carry in my arms. Openly.