“Will you strive to understand her, giving her comfort when she seeks it from you? Will you try never to say in anger which you would not say in friendship? And when each night comes, will you go to sleep with gratitude for her presence at your side and renewed love for her in your heart?”
My hands trembled in Luc’s. Of all the words he could have chosen, these felt significant to us. He’d chosen perfectly. These were the promises we wanted to make to each other in front of all of our family and friends. Every single day of our lives I would be thankful that Luc chose me when he could have walked away for an easier life.
“I will,” he said, looking me in the eye.
My voice wobbled as I made the same promises, unable to keep myself together. Luc swallowed hard as he carefully placed the wedding band onto my finger and I returned the favour. The weight of the ring felt like it belonged. A physical representation that I was his without question or doubt. I’d waited almost two years for this exact moment.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Father Duffy announced. “Those who God has joined together, let no one pull asunder.”
“Hoo-fucking-rah!” Dante laughed. “Now kiss your wife!”
“Dante!” Tori hissed from her seat.
Luc laughed and I couldn’t help but join in. Dante had so desperately wanted to officiate but even I had put my foot down at that request and he had just proven me right.
“You may go ahead and kiss your bride, Lucas,” Father Duffy told me after shooting Dante a stern look.
“So,” I said, looking up at him with adoration, “are you going to kiss me, Mr Foster?”
“As if I need to be asked, Mrs Foster.”
The apples of my cheeks tingled at the use of my new name. After moving my veil, Luc’s hands went to my waist, pulling me in towards him. One hand snaked up to the back of my neck, bunching the veil, as he leaned down and kissed me deeply. The gesture was filled with a thousand promises of everything to come in our future and a thousand apologies for our past. So much could be said in a kiss that words would never convey.
The sound of whistling, hollering and applause filled the room. When we eventually pulled apart, Luc grinned at me.
“Mr and Mrs Foster!” Dante laughed and stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out an ear-splitting whistle again.
We turned back towards our family and friends, and Luc gripped my hand tightly as we walked between the rows. It was slow and stilted, thanks to his leg, but I took each step with him. This was the start of our journey as husband and wife. Uncertain of what may lie ahead but facing it together and learning from everything we’d left behind in our past.
“I love you, Mia,” Luc told me just like I knew he would tell me every day for the rest of our lives.
“I love you too, Luc.”
Sometimes, I found it hard to believe that there were pockets of sunshine in this life. A life that I hadn’t even been fully aware of until a deal gone wrong. I’d never known what it was like to care for people so deeply that you would do anything for them. Not just words that were carried away in the wind, but truly anything in the world to keep them with you. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that Lucas Foster, the man who I’d hated so fervently when we met, would be my husband and that he’d give me the world.
The beauty of it all was that we’d barely begun. These days would stretch into years and I’d make sure that the good outnumbered the bad. There were constant reminders of what we were forged from; Luc’s leg and my skin that would never quite be the same after the kiss of fire. Things we desired so deeply — power, love, freedom — they’d all come at a cost, but, in the end, they were worth the price.
Epilogue
Eighteen years later
Lincoln
The streets whipped past us as Ezra sped away from the school on Dad’s old motorbike. My younger brother had more of an interest in bikes than the rest of us, and had damn near cried when Mom and Dad gifted it to him on his sixteenth birthday. Now, he was barely without it and that meant I’d had to get over my aversion to the death trap. I much preferred the sleek designs that sat on four wheels.
As we rounded the corner, the house loomed into view and we waited for the gates to open to give us access to the drive. Dad’s car pulled up behind us and we took the route towards our home with the Range Rover a little too close for comfort. There was no doubt in my mind that Dad would have like to have pushed the car an inch closer to knock us off the bike and hammer some sense into us.
Ezra rolled the bike straight into the garage and killed the engine. We dismounted to see that Dad hadn’t followed us in. Ez took off his helmet, revealing a split lip, and placed it onto one of the shelves before looking at me.
“They can’t kill the both of us,” he said. “That’d raise too many questions.”
“I’m not sure they’re going to give a fuck,” I replied, shoving my helmet next to his.
“You’re not going to tell them, are you?”
“Ez,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I’d never do that to you.” My hands went to his shoulders and I shook him gently. “I’ve got you.” He swallowed hard and nodded his head. “Let’s go face Dad.”
As we walked out of the garage, Dad’s voice boomed across the drive. “Oi!” he yelled. “Where do you think you two are going?” The twins, who had made a break for the front door, stopped in their tracks and turned around to face him. “Get in line,” he ordered them. “Now.”
