The world narrows to just her.
I can’t stop staring.
She walks toward me, slow, sure, barefoot in the grass, every step deliberate, like she’s savoring it. The string lights catch in her hair, in her eyes, turning her into something almost otherworldly.
When she reaches the makeshift aisle, two rows of hay bales draped in white, she stops.
Josie hands her the basket, then runs to Gray, who’s standing beside me as officiant.
Megan looks up at me.
I’m already moving.
I step down, take her hand, and pull her the last few feet until she’s standing in front of me.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, voice cracking.
Her eyes shine. “You’re not so bad yourself, love.”
Symon, standing behind me as best man, snorts. “Jesus, get a room.”
The small crowd laughs. Even Gray cracks a smile.
Megan squeezes my hand.
Gray clears his throat.
We don’t need long vows.
We already know.
Gray speaks. The ceremony is simple and traditional. When it’s our turn, Megan goes first.
She looks up at me, eyes shining, voice steady.
“I was running toward a story. I found you instead. You saved my life more than once, in more than one way. You gave me a home when I didn’t know I needed one. You taught me to fight, to trust, to love without fear. I promise to keep fighting with you, for you, beside you. I promise to steal your shirts, burn your toast, and love you every single day. Forever.”
My throat closes, and I swallow hard.
It’s my turn. I take both her hands and look into those green eyes that see right through me.
“I was living half a life before you. Walls up. Rules in place. No attachments. No complications. Then you crashed into my world—stubborn, brilliant, fearless—and you tore every wall down. You made me feel again. You made me want again. You made me believe in forever again. I promise to protect you, not just from the world, but from my own stubbornness. I promise to hold you when you’re scared, laugh when you’re ridiculous, and love you every moment of my life. I promise to be your home, your safe place, and your forever.”
Tears spill down her cheeks, but she smiles through them.
Gray’s voice is rough. “Rings.”
Symon hands them over. Simple gold bands with the word forever etched inside.
I slide hers onto her finger. She slides mine onto mine.
Gray smiles. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Kiss your bride, Jenkins.”
I don’t wait.
I pull her into me, cup her face, and kiss her deep, pouring every promise into it. She melts against me, arms around my neck, fingers in my hair.
The crowd cheers. Symon whistles loudly and obnoxiously. Josie giggles.
