Page 75 of Beyond the Stroke

The air carries a faint scent of old paper and lemon-scented floor cleaner.

Rory’s lips twitch in amusement, before he shakes his head. “Nah, it’s because it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. You walk into a room, and I notice. Every damn time.”

At his words, I nearly trip down the court room aisle, but I don’t fall because Rory’s got me.

Of course, he does. Winnie had warned me, hadn’t she? Rory’sthatguy. Helpful and sweet. Always doing good deeds. He’d probably marry any random woman that needed insurance. I just happened to be directly in his path.

At the sight of the generic courtroom, my anxiety eases.

There’s no need for flowers or silk bunting. No music or choreographed entrance. No bridesmaids or groomsmen.

The North Carolina state flag in one corner and the American flag in the other, both faded by time, are the only backdrop. At the front of the room, the court stenographer sitting next to the judge, barely glances up as she types. The monotony of it all helps reassure me what kind of arrangement this is; completely transactional.

“The court has reviewed the terms of your agreement. All assets and responsibilities are divided as stated, and there are no further disputes. Mr. and Mrs.—well, not Mrs. anymore, I suppose—your divorce is finalized as of today. Best of luck to you both.”

The couple in front of us are getting a divorce.

Good.

I mean, I’m not happy for their failed marriage, but it’s a good reminder of what will ultimately become of me and Rory after the Olympics.

“Next,” the judge calls out and Rory guides me toward the bench where the placard readsJudge Clayborn.

On the way, my eyes skim over the handful of people sitting in the audience. I recognize Logan, Charlie, and Eli. Then, there’s Winnie, with her hand at her chest, discreetly giving me an enthusiastic wave.

As the judge announces why we are gathered here today, my palms start to sweat.

“Are you exchanging rings?” Judge Clayborn asks.

Rory reaches into his suit jacket pocket.

When he holds up the ring he has pinched between his fingers, my eyes bulge.

The ring in Rory’s hand is gorgeous, but completely unexpected.

“I thought we decided on the ones from the quarter machine in front of Rowley’s Hardware?”

“This is more convincing,” he whispers.

I shake my head. “It’s too much. More than what I got you.” Reaching into the pocket of my dress, I produce the black rubber ring.

He grins at it. “You didn’t follow the rules, either?”

I roll my eyes. “It was like nine dollars.”

“I love it.”

“You don’t even have to wear a ring. A lot of guys don’t. But, if you wanted to, I thought this kind made the most sense with swimming and all your training activities.”

“Hell, yeah.” Rory’s smile is captivating. “I’m going to wear it.”

“Okay. Whatever you want to do.”

I shrug it off, dizzy from the heat.

We turn our attention back to Judge Clayborn.

“Rory, do you take Summer to be your lawfully wedded wife?” he asks.

---