Page 75 of Bottle Shock
Gavin’s hand brushes mine as we enter—a light touch that steadies me more than I’d like to admit. I grab it, lacing our fingers together. I tell myself it’s for show, but it’s a useless lie.
The room is small—four cream-colored walls and a vase of wilted flowers on a filing cabinet. It’s both too ordinary and too momentous for the life-altering decisions that have taken place here.
The judge—a woman in her sixties with kind eyes and a silver chignon—looks up from her desk and smiles. “You must be my next couple.”
“That’s us,” Gavin says.
“License looks good.” She flips through the pages. “So, you’ve already fulfilled the waiting period. We’ll just do a short civil ceremony. No witnesses needed. Sound good?”
I nod so my voice won’t betray how fast my heart is racing.
The judge stands, adjusting the front of her robe. “All right, let’s begin.”
Gavin squeezes my hand—a small reassurance—as we step closer. When I look up, his hazel eyes find mine, and something in me unclenches. I don’t know why I’ve been so nervous. There’s nothing here to fear. This is Gavin—the boy who grew into the kind of man people count on. The one who shows up, whose advice is wise beyond his years. Who took responsibility for Lily when most would’ve run.
He’s infuriatingly good in a way that’s almost old-fashioned—honest, capable, thoughtful without making a show of it. I think that’s what disarms me most. I’m not used to feeling safe with someone, but with Gavin, safe is all I’ve ever been.
She begins reading, her tone practiced. “Marriage is a civil contract between two persons, to which the consent of the parties is essential. Today, you enter into that agreement willingly and with understanding.”
Gavin goes still beside me. This is it—the point of noreturn. My breath sticks in my chest, waiting for him to pull away, to decide this is too much. That I’m too much. But he doesn’t move. And neither do I.
The judge looks between us before continuing. “Please face each other,” she says.
We turn. For a moment, the world narrows to this—the two of us standing in a quiet courtroom that suddenly feels too intimate. My pulse stutters, caught somewhere between my ribs and my throat.
Gavin’s hands hold both of mine, and my fingers tremble as they fit against his, the edges of his calluses brushing my skin. The smallest movement—his thumb tracing over my knuckle—is the last bit of reassurance I need to calm my rapid pulse.
The judge nods to him. “Repeat after me.”
“I, Gavin Ledger, take you, Scotland James, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”
He says it evenly, his deep voice vibrating between us. I feel it more than I hear it.
The way he’s looking at me has my stomach dipping. I inhale, the air catching halfway in my chest as his scent wraps around me—both calming and drugging at once. One of my heels wobbles, like the floor is uneven beneath me, but really it’s me, struggling to stand straight.
Then it’s my turn. My voice barely makes it out. “I, Scotland James, take you, Gavin Ledger, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”
The words leave my mouth softer than I intend. He squeezes my hands once again, and the gesture ripples through me. My heart trips over itself, chasing the realization that we’re really doing this.
The judge’s expression softens, and I can’t tell who’s putting on the better show—her, for looking at us withgenuine admiration, or us, for selling the illusion a little too well.
“Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish each other, to share in life’s joys and hardships, from this day forward?”
Gavin’s gaze locks with mine, and his jaw shifts, the muscle there tightening before he answers.
“I do.”
Two simple words, but they land deep within me, threading through my chest and pulling tight. There’s no hesitation in his voice, none of the nervous laughter you might expect given the circumstances.
I swallow, trying to find my own voice, but it gets trapped in my throat. My hands are still in his, and I feel every tiny tremor in my fingers pressing between us.
“I do.”
It comes out quieter than his, almost a whisper. But once it’s out, I can’t take it back. I look at him, sinking into the safety of his eyes, and for one fleeting second, none of this feels like a lie.
The judge clears her throat. “Do we have rings?”
I start to shake my head, but Gavin nods. “Actually, we do.”
