Page 139 of Hard to Judge

Laurent chuckles. “Do you, Hotaru Kido, Hailey Fitzpatrick, and Arlo Judge, come here of your own free will?”

“We do,” we say in unison.

“Do you promise to cherish, protect, and love one another all the days of your lives?”

“We do,” we say again.

Laurent beams. “Then place your right hands together in the center.”

Hota places his first, palm up. I put mine on top of his and Arlo’s encapsulates both of ours from the top.

Something settles in the very center of my soul. The itch I’ve always felt—the discomfort in my own ski, the worry, the anxiety—it vanishes.

Laurent wraps a cord braided with three strands of fabric around our hands. “May you strengthen these bonds each day until your last.”

“We will,” we say.

Laurent looks at Hota and nods. Hota nods back, and then faces me and Arlo more fully.

“Hailey.” He centers his gaze on me.

My heart stops beating, and I’m pretty sure my jaw hits the cobblestones under our feet. “You said no vows.”

I’m pretty sure people behind us laugh, but I don’t really care. I’m about to kill my new husband. “I didn’t prepare vows.”

“Hailey.” He smiles and begins again. “You tell us every day exactly how you feel about us. From the very beginning, you’ve been clear and unabashed with your love. Today, on the day you become our wife, we want to be as explicit as we can be about our love for you.”

That earns a few chuckles.

His free hand brushes my cheek. “You are the light in our darkness. You are the mortar that holds us together.”

Arlo cups Hota’s cheek for a moment before joining Hota’s fingers on mine. “Hailey.”

“Seriously?” I sniffle, unable to keep my tears in check.

“Seriously.” His grin is magnificent on his perfect face. “You are everything we never knew we needed. Now that we do, we’re never letting you go.”

I shake our bound hands. “Same to ya,” I sob and laugh.

Everyone laughs.

“Here.” Laurent unwinds the fabric around our hands, while the guys reluctantly release my face. “Rings are an outward symbol of your commitment today and always.”

Arlo pulls two velvet pouches from his pocket. My instinct to squeal returns full force. I’ve never been into rings or jewelrymore than a pair of earrings or a bracelet with an outfit, but I want their rings on my finger.

Mr. Bossy Britches wouldn’t let us in on the rings or designs. Not even for his.

He pours a heap of rings into his large hand and I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of how many there are, and then I see them. Really see them.

“Oh my god, Arlo.” I cover my gaping mouth.

Three thicker black tungsten bands and three thinner gold bands rest in his palm. All six are engraved on the inside. The word on each of the darker ones shows gold, while the gold bands show the dark tungsten.

Abiding

Adoring

Enlightening

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