The priest smiles. “Yes. They fit all different finger sizes. They’re for rehearsal ceremonies.”
“Perfect,” I say, grabbing one for myself.
“What’s written on the inside?” Harrison asks, squinting.
I read the words out loud. “I love you.”
It’s the exact moment Harrison’s eyes lift to meet mine.
Those piercing blue eyes… darkening.
My heart feels too full, stretched thin by feelings I shouldn’t be having for a man I barely know.
It’s the hazard of this line of work.
Opening yourself to raw emotion, letting it swell and fill you up like a water balloon until you’re close to bursting.
Feeling too many things for a man who has no idea you’re feeling anything at all.
The priest clears his throat. “Let us begin.” On cue, Chad steps back into position.
The lines. The marks. The familiar rhythm.
We move through the vows, and something about this feels so… real.
My emotions tangle tighter by the second, a hot mess I can’t control whenever I’m near the grumpy man staring at me.
The priest speaks, and I force my composure, repeating the words after him.
To have and to hold.
For better or for worse.
For richer or for poorer.
In sickness and in health.
To love and to cherish,
until death do us part.
The words land hard, pressing into my chest. By the time the rings are exchanged, my composure is hanging by a thread.
“You may now kiss the bride,” Priest man announces.
I catch the hesitation in Harrison’s stance. Maybe it’s the scrutiny, the way he’s on display like a fish in a tank.
Or maybe it’s because it’s me.
I nod, encouraging him. “It’s all right.”
He moves in slowly, like he’s giving me time to change my mind. Then, he goes in.
Big, warm hands slide along my neck, cradling my cheeks.
My breath catches as my eyes flutter shut, my body reacting on instinct.
I’ve been kissed countless times on camera. It’s muscle memory now. Marks and angles and timing. The act itself has gone numb.
