He kisses me like I’m breakable. It’s slow, sweet, consuming. I hate it. It’s the worst thing he’s ever unknowingly done. Because as we stand at an altar, promising ourselves to each other and sealing it with a kiss, my heart has never experienced such pain. As soon as our mouths break apart, this will be over, and I will be crushed. I try to burn the final seconds into my mind, and then with what little self-control I have left, I step back, keeping my head low so he can’t see my glassy eyes. “Are you … crying?” Dex asks. Well, fuck. I wipe at my face. “I always cry at weddings.”
