Page 165 of Rah
He shrugged with a soft, bashful smile. “A drunk mind speaks a sober truth.”
“Elvis” was watching us from a few feet away, grinning like he was watching a rom-com movie he’d seen a hundred times.
“You’re already my wife in every way that matters. Nephew-Sonismy son. You’re my peace. You’re my home. The only thing missing is a piece of paper and a ring.”
I just stared at him, feeling the world spinning a little slower all of a sudden. “You’re serious?”
He nodded once with his eyes locked on mine. “I’m dead serious.”
My heart was beating warm and wildly. I didn’t even think twice. I just smiled through the tears that suddenly filled my eyes and said, “Okay.”
He grinned, pulling me in and kissed my forehead. “So, that’s a yes?”
I was beaming. “That’s a yes.”
“Elvis” clapped his hands together, and his voice boomed, “Well,honey, let’s get y’all hitched!”
We both burst out laughing again, leaning into each other, dizzy, happy, and drunk off more than tequila.
It was crazy and impulsive but standing there with him in that little tacky Vegas chapel felt like the most right thing in the world.
When I woke up, my head was pounding like a drumline. The sunlight creeping through the curtains felt way too bright.
For a second, I couldn’t remember where I was. The ceilingwas white, the sheets were incredibly soft and unfamiliar. Then I looked around and saw the marble floors, the gold-framed mirrors, the view of the Strip glittering through the windows, and it all came rushing back.
I groaned, rolling over, trying to piece together the night. Slowly, it all came back to me; the strip, the club, the bottles, the chapel… Elvis.
Then I felt the weight on my hand.
I lifted my left hand into the light and froze. It was a simple gold band that gleamed on my ring finger. I stared at it as everything from last night replayed in flashes.
Before I could process it, I heard his voice somewhere in the room. “You would think the chapel would have had better rings to choose from. As soon as we sober up, we’re getting real rings.”
I turned my head and damn near forgot how to breathe. He was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, completely naked, dick swinging. The morning light hit him just right, tracing over every hard line, muscle, and tattoo. His body looked like something out of a dream. Ink climbed his arms, down his ribs, over his chiseled abs, and broad chest. But his face was the part that always got me.
“Did we really—?” My voice bounced between disbelief and laughter.
He grinned nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we really did.”
He pointed toward the nightstand.
I followed his gaze, and saw a marriage license, signed and sealed, sitting next to a half-empty bottle of tequila and a crooked bouquet of fake red roses.
I covered my mouth, half laughing, half on the verge of tears. “Oh my God…”
He came over and slid into bed beside me. “You okay? You don’t regret it, do you?”
I turned toward him, shaking my head. “No. Not at all.”
Relief softened his eyes.
I looked down at the ring again, blushing. “I can’t believe I’m your wife.”
He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve been yours, so it’s only fair that you’re officially all mine now for the rest of your life.”
I smiled against his chest.
Lying there, wrapped up in him, I was so thankful of how much I’d survived. Rah had broken me in ways I never thought I’d heal from. He made me forget who I was for a while. But Fabe reminded me. He showed me what it felt like to be authentically seen, protected, and loved.
