Oh. Nope, still beating.
Great.
My body has apparently decided to keep living while my brain short-circuits in front of an audience.
Mac’s grinning like she’s watching a live episode ofThe Bachelor.
Logan looks proud. Which is worse.
Seraphina—She’s looking at me like I just hung the moon and promised to keep it shining.
Jesus Christ.
Seraphina’s voice trembles as she repeats the words back.
“I do.”
Fuck me.
I’m somebody’s husband.
I swallow, trying to breathe, but it feels like my lungs have gone on strike.
I should say something.
Something that’ll make this less insane.
Instead, all that comes out is a broken laugh.
“Guess that’s me then. Mr. Seraphina.”
The clerk blinks.
Seraphina smiles soft and shy—and just like that, my world stops trying to implode.
If this is madness, I’m already too far gone.
Mac snifflessoftly behind us. Logan’s arm comes around her waist, and I don’t even need to look to know he’s smiling.
The officiant says something else—something about rings and forever—but my head is already somewhere else. In this space between truth and pretense, where she’s looking at me like maybe she feels it too.
I slide the ring onto her finger, my thumb brushing the back of her hand. She exhales quietly, her eyes locked on mine.
“You may kiss your bride.”
The world stops.
Every sound fades—the murmur of the others, the faint hum of traffic outside, even the soft rustle of Mac shifting beside Logan.
It’s just us. No pressure.
I lean in, close enough to feel her breath against my mouth, close enough to see the way her pupils dilate. Her lip’s part, and for one insane, heart-stopping second, I almost do it. I almost close the space between us and make the lie real.
But then I remember why we’re here.
So, I touch my lips to hers instead. Gentle. Soft. Barely there.
When I pull back, she’s looking at me like I’ve just undone her.
