Page 142 of Poison Vows

To have me in sickness? You don’t dump your perishing body in the hands of the one you love, especially when they have an entire life to look forward to. A future so bright, in no time they’d realize they dodged a bullet.

But this is now… and this time, I want it all.

I want the future I’ve tried and failed to forget… the future where Angel is mine, happy, in love with me, spoiled, protected and at peace.

This time, I’m throwing caution to the wind, and with this new heart only a few days old beating slowly in my chest, I say the words I never thought I’d say.

“I do.”

In front of me, I feel more than hear Angel suck in a deep breath.

Yes, baby, this is real and it’s happening.

“And do you, Ivy Marie Irving, take Emmett Alessio Damian Easton, to be your loving wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and honor, in sickness and in health, through all the trials and tribulations of life, forsaking all others, till death do you part in the presence of God and all who are witnesses here and now?”

I expect her to answer quickly but she remains silent for forty-eight entire seconds.

Anxiety like a tight glove clutches my chest.

From the corner of my eye, I see Vaughn’s lips press together, like he’s gearing up to say something. When he sees me looking his way, his eyes narrow with mirth.

But this isn’t about Vaughn. He’s not my competition here.

My bride is.

I stare at Angel, not knowing what to say. I loathe pressuring her or bullying her into anything, but she has me by the skin of my teeth with trepidation.

“Miss?” the priest starts.

“W-what?” Angel gasps, as if being dragged out of the depths of cold water. “What did you say?”

The priest eyes me nervously and then he clears his throat and repeats the question.

I’m about to demand she quit playing me like this, when she says the words, “I do.”

I breathe a deep sigh of relief and dismiss the reluctance I heard in her voice.

“Excellent! You many now exchange the rings.”

Kai materializes from the shadows, holding a silver platter with two familiar-looking old-fashioned boxes that I’m sure Angel recognizes because her gaze shoots straight to mine.

They are the rings I got from the auction weeks ago, the same ones I got simply because of the look on my girl’s face when she heard the story behind the rings.

“A man was in love with a woman for fifty-eight years. Each year on the woman’s birthday, he’d have jewelry pieces made, from the time he met her until the day he died, even after the woman passed. It turned out that the woman had been ill for a long time and had died just six months after meeting the man, but he never knew, nor did he stop loving her for fifty-eight years.”

I had the rings resized, and the diamonds for Angel retouched with more fitting jewels, while retaining the original stones.

The one I slide on Angel’s ring finger, marking her as mine, makes my chest swell.

I’m a goner when she holds my hand in her trembling palm, then she quickly slides my band on my ring finger, as if wanting to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

“Now, by the power vested in me, before God Almighty, I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Emmett Alessio Damian Easton. You may now kiss the bride.”

Without hesitation, I slide my arm around my wife’s waist and pull her flush against me. Then with my other hand, I gently tilt the side of her face and hold her gaze for a beat.

“You’ve always been mine. Now, it’s official. Oh, and happy birthday, Angel.”

With that, I seal our forever with a long, deep kiss I’d been hungry for our whole lives.

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