And the world stops.
She steps into the sunlight—veil trailing behind her like something out of a fairytale, dress soft and flowing around her legs, bouquet of white tulips trembling in her hands. Her shiny dark chocolate hair pulled back in loose curls behind her, her thick black lashes and setting off her steely blue eyes that I noticed the first time I met her, her pink cheeks and perfect lips that I realize I’m about to get my first taste of…. if Luka doesn’t kill me first.
My breath catches.
I’ve seen beautiful women in my life, sure. They follow us to games, perch up in seats where we can see them. They come to charity events dressed to the nines, or find us in the bar after a game. But this… this is different.
This time, the woman heading toward me is the most striking creation I’ve ever witnessed in a wedding dress, and she’s about to be my wife.
She walks slowly, her arm wrapped around Luka’s, each step measured and graceful, like the ballerina she is. Her eyes lift—just for a moment—and when they find mine, something hits me, like a lightning bolt, hot and tingling after its effect. I feel the lingering effects at the ends of my fingertips and my toes.
What the hell was that?
Hunter nudges me. “Breathe, man. I was kidding about passing out. Don’t do that.”
I take a deep inhale, and a lightheaded whoosh hits my brain like I actually had stopped breathing—my brain was starving for oxygen.
Then she reaches the end of the aisle, and Luka hands her off to me with a whisper in Russian that makes her blink fast.
I wish I knew what he had said to her.
Her eyes search mine, cautious but steady.
“Hi,” I whisper.
Her red-painted lips curve just slightly. “Hi.”
Coach Haynes clears his voice. I asked him to be the officiant, so he went online to get certified. It took him a day, which seems crazy, to marry two people together, but here we are.
I tune out most of what he says as he welcomes the guests and gives a small introduction. I ignore everything until before I know it, I’m repeating after him.
My voice feels small and more timid than it ever has before as I utter the words that should be temporary, but they feel as concrete as anything I’ve ever promised anyone in my life.Maybe because of what all this means for her and because if we don’t pull this off… if her grandmother doesn’t buy it, then she gets shipped back home to marry someone else.
“To have and to hold… For better or worse… From this day forward…”
The thing that shocks me the most is how much I think I mean the vows I’m saying. That can’t be right, can it? But it feels true.
When it’s her turn, the wind on the top of the rooftop blows just a little harder; her veil blows delicately in the wind. Something is changing, and I feel it.
I feel it before she even speaks—the tiny tremble in her breath, the way her slender fingers tighten just slightly around mine, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she gathers herself for her next words to me.
We don't know each other, and yet, somehow, we’re up here making promises to one another as if it’s just us against the world.
Three days… I’ve known about her existence for only three days.
Her lashes lower for half a second, like she’s steadying her courage, like the words matter more than she planned. And then she lifts her chin.
Her eyes meet mine.
The shake in her hand doesn’t match the strength in her gaze, and something hot and protective surges through me so fast I nearly pull her closer.
Then she speaks—not loud or bold, just… true.
“I do.”
Two simple words that said apart mean so little, but said together, under this arch of flowers, with my teammates and friends, and my coach as our officiant, it binds us together.
A vow spoken by a woman who doesn’t lie lightly… the one thing I’ve gathered in our small time together. A vow I’m not sure I deserve from her.
