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Gently, he lifts my veil, and instead of flipping it back over my head, he slips under it to be close to me. What had acted as a filter is now gone, and everything about him is vivid, sharp, and—just for today—mine.
Taking my face in both his hands, he lowers his lips to brush them against the corner of mine then pulls away, but only by the most minuscule distance. Memories of last night’s kiss flutter through my mind. Wonder is immediate, and heat races through me. Wanting to be closer, I grab the lapels of his jacket and inch up on my toes. Feeling me shift, he moves one hand to my lower back and gently pulls me flush against him. His lips connect with mine again and slowly, deeply move in a way that lets me know, up until this moment, I have never really been kissed. This is a fairytale kiss to
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“Treat him right, because he deserves the world and then some.” Nate briefly drops his head then swallows to gain composure, and I can’t help but frown. Man, he’s sure making this sound and look real. “So, if you would, please raise your glasses. Here’s to Reid and Camille. Together, may you both find your way, fall in love every single day, and always listen to what your heart has to say—it’ll never steer you wrong.”
“Who cares? I certainly don’t care what you look like. I think you’re beautiful whether you’re dressed up for our wedding or climbing out of bed in the morning. It’s all the same to me, because all of it is you. You have to live your life, and you can’t be worried about what others think all the time.” He said ‘our wedding,’ and I think a piece of my heart broke off and blew his way.
‘Music is the only thing that understands and can respond to all emotions of the heart. When you’re happy you hear the melody, when you’re angry you focus on the beat, and when you’re sad you listen to the lyrics.’”
Heat pours off his skin and soaks into mine like the sun’s rays. He smells like vacation, dreams, and forever all rolled into one.
Heart pounding, beat by beat, it expands in my chest with an overwhelming sense of love for him. This man, my temporary husband—can he feel it? Does he know? This moment . . . Him . . . All of it . . . He’s just saved me and ruined me at the same time.
Somewhere in the deepest part of me, I hear a whisper like strokes of a feather. It cherishes her and calls her my wife, and in this moment, she is, by every definition of the word. She’s my wife, I’m her husband, and what we just shared was real and true.
How do people survive these emotions? I don’t understand. I feel raw, vulnerable, exposed, and then to top it off, she slays me as she whispers, “My favorite thing we did was everything, because I got to be with you.”
“I’m sorry, Reid, for everything,” she quietly says into the skin of my neck. Wrapping my hands around her face, I move us so we’re nose to nose and she’s looking me in the eyes. “Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry, because I would do it all over again if it meant bringing me here to you.”
Clare and I once asked Grandfather how we became identical twins and he said, “One egg, two hearts.” He said there was so much love in that one little egg, it had to split in two. The love couldn’t be contained, it had to be shared, and that’s what I plan to do. To love oneself is to love life.
