48. Anderson
48
ANDERSON
I ’ve always had an appreciation for a black-on-black suit, but today, even that does not feel formal enough for our casual ceremony. In fact, nothing feels good enough for marrying June. God knows I’m not.
I still cannot believe she wants to marry me. It’s like a dream. Hopefully, nothing turns it into a nightmare.
Without her at my side last night, that was all I had. One after another. Embarrassingly, I woke up cuddled on her pillow after I’d pulled it next to me as a poor imitation of her. It was the first thing I fixed this morning. Didn’t want her coming home thinking I’d had my way with her pillow in her stead.
I made coffee, and as I stirred the dark liquid, I fell back into the memory of those nightmares. My father, showing up at the courthouse to stop us from getting married, so I could marry the daughter of one of his associates instead. Some enemy of his, spraying June’s white dress red with bullets as she said, “I do.” Or, my favorite one—the judge telling us he wouldn’t marry us as a favor to my father because he revoked his approval of June.
No need for a Freudian interpretation of my dreams. I feared my father ruining my future happiness with June, one way or another. Probably because he had tried so often to do precisely that.
In the light of day, I knew those things were highly unlikely to happen. But that didn’t do much to shake the nightmares from replaying in my mind.
So, I hit the gym to work out my nervous energy. Since the apartment building has a decent one, I don’t have to travel far to sweat it out. Cranking up the tunes to the grungiest punk music always helped clear my mind when I lifted or ran on the treadmill, so that is the plan. But after two hours of brutalizing my body, I remember I have wedding night duties to perform. I slow the treadmill to a stop and wipe everything down before I leave.
The blonde who flirts with me walks in. I only notice because, despite my apartment building being full, the gym is empty in the middle of a Thursday. She saunters my way, smiling.
Crap.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, Anderson.”
“Been busy.”
“Too busy to spot me?”
The last time she asked for a spot, she made sure to arch her back unnecessarily as she benched just to flash me more cleavage. I feel bad for the girl. She is very pretty—like a Swedish bikini model. Surely, there are other guys out there for her.
I smile apologetically. “Yeah, sorry. If I don’t get cleaned up, I’ll be late to my own wedding, and that’s no way to start a marriage. Excuse me.”
Her bright blue eyes widen. “You’re getting married?”
“This afternoon.”
“Oh my god!” She giggles and clutches onto me for a hug. Apparently, she doesn’t notice me not hugging her back. “Congratulations!”
“Erm, thanks.”
She leans back, looking up at me. “My wife and I would love to have you and the missus over for supper sometime.”
My brain reset. “Your wife?”
“Yeah. Viv is always on me about how I don’t invite people over.” She shrugs awkwardly. “But it’s hard to make friends as an adult. You know what I mean?”
“I thought … I would have sworn you hit on me. You gave me your number, and?—"
She grins bashfully. “Okay, well yeah, I did. At first. But then Viv and I got back together. All’s well that ends well, right? We got married two months ago. Never been happier. You’ll love married life.”
I chuckle, unsure what to say to all of that. “Can’t wait?—"
“Oh my goodness, I’m just delaying you. Go get married. Don’t let me keep you.”
I slowly nod, still wrapping my head around all of that, as I walk into our place. Do I even know the blonde’s name? I should learn it. She was distracting enough that I forgot my nightmares for a little while. I owe her for that alone.
I hit the shower, style my hair, and get dressed. I look good, but something still feels missing. It’s June. Has to be. Looking at myself in the full-length mirror, I realize I’m standing to the side of the view because I usually stand there with her.
I am so addicted to that woman.
When I get to the courthouse, I breathlessly search the crowd for her, and somehow, when I see her, she takes away the little breath that I have.
June Devlin is utterly stunning.
My heart stutters in my chest at the sight of her, and it’s all I can do not to get choked up. When she meets me, I can’t hold back the hoarseness in my voice. “You look incredible.”
She smiles shyly. “I know.”
I laugh, cutting the tension. She giggles, too. But that fades away when I whisper in her ear, “I cannot wait to tear that beautiful dress off of you.”
She gasps, faking a shock. “Mr. West, don’t you dare! I love this dress!”
“I love how fragile it looks. Perfect for ripping with my teeth.”
“You’re so bad!”
“And I’m all yours.”
She sighs happily. “No backing out, then?”
“Hell no. You?”
She shakes her head, still smiling. “You’ll have to pry me off of you if you want to be free of me.”
I’m still not sure if she knows how much it means to me when she says things like that.
We wait in the courthouse chapel’s anteroom alongside a few other nervous couples. Some wear street clothes, while others are dressed up like us. It’s interesting to see what other people are wearing or how they’re treating today. I’m surprised to see an elderly couple looking just as nervous as the rest of us. But it’s clear they’re here to get married, too—they keep giggling at each other and making silly faces to entertain one another. I hope me and June are like them at that age.
This is nothing like the weddings my cousins threw. Big ornate affairs that were more business and performance than romance. I’d hated each and every one of them. So synthetic. It was fine for them—they liked the artifice and having the family’s focus on them like that. But it made me uncomfortable to think that was what would be expected of me. To put on a show like some kind of trained animal … just no. In my opinion, a wedding should be for the people getting married. Not everyone else.
One couple in the anteroom seems to not even like each other, but the moment they’re called, their lovey-dovey side comes out.
June whispers, “Green card?”
“Unsure. Maybe.”
She laces her fingers with mine. “Did you write your vows?”
“Shit. I knew there was something I forgot to do?—"
“Anderson!”
I smirk and shake my head. “That’s what you get for even asking such a thing, young lady.”
She smirks up at me. “Oh, be that way.”
“Did you write yours?”
“I am not justifying that question with a response.”
I tip my head against hers. “So you forgot, huh?”
She laughs and girl-punches my shoulder. “Just for that, I’m going with the bog standard vows. Nothing fancy. Nothing personal.”
“Liar.”
They call us, and I thought I’d be more nervous than I am. There’s a little of that, but with no Elliot West in sight, what is there to be nervous about? I’m marrying the best person I’ve ever known.
We face each other in front of a judge in a dressed-up hearing room. There are fake flowers in big vases on either side of him and a few flags lining the walls. Not even a window. It’s perfect.
He gets to the part where he asks about vows, and I let her go first. Her nervousness has been rolling off of her in waves, and I figure if she goes first, she’ll feel better. June’s voice is so pretty when she’s emotional. “Last night, I tried to come up with something profound or significant to us. Something personal. But I couldn’t, and it took me until this morning to know why. I didn’t have you with me. Last night was one of the worst nights of sleep of my life?—"
I can’t help but laugh and nod.
She smiles and continues, “Because I need you with me. Always. Maybe it’s co-dependent or whatever, but you’re my person, Anderson West. You make my life better. You make me better. It’s like the world is in focus when you’re in it, and I want you by my side for every step of life. I promise to love you, to cherish you, and to be your partner in crime from now until forever.”
I doubt the judge knows that last part to be absolutely literal. She gives my hands a squeeze. The judge says, “And now, the groom.”
I take a breath to steady myself. “Right now feels like a dream I don’t want to wake up from.”
Her smile absolutely glows at that.
“That’s what life is with you, June. All the hardships we’ve faced, all the challenges, and the good times, too. None of them feel real because I get to experience them with you, the woman of my dreams. The first breath I ever took was when I saw your face because I finally found my purpose. My first moment of happiness was the first time I made you laugh. Give me your bad hair days, your spilled coffee days, your stubbed toes days, your rotten days at the office. I want to be the one who makes those days better for you the way you do for me.”
A shining tear dances down her cheek.
“June Devlin, I am madly, irreversibly in love with you and everything you are and will be. Every day, for the rest of our lives, I will give you all of me. I am yours. Now and always.”
I know the judge says something, but I hardly hear him. All I know is her. This woman is my world, and now, the world knows it, too.
“… may kiss the bride.”
I’m on her before he can finish the sentence. My wife’s lips are soft and sweet, and I want to have my way with her right here and now. A sound like rain catches my ear. No—clapping. It’s only then that I remember there are other people in the room. I’d forgotten all about the courtroom witness and the judge.
“Congratulations to the happy couple,” the judge says, trying to collect our attention.
We break the kiss, and once the paperwork is complete, we bolt out of there, eager to get home. But my sadistic side has other ideas. That bastard.
On the courthouse steps, I tell her, “Let’s go to supper.”
“Really? I thought you wanted to get home.”
“I do. But I want to take my wife out more.”
She beams at that. “I like hearing you call me that, husband.”
There is something so erotic about hearing her call me husband. “A quick supper.”
She giggles. “Sounds good.”