“Oliver Oaks, do you take Hailey O’Shae to be your wife? To have and to hold in sickness and health. For richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” Oliver is quick to answer, our eyes not breaking our line.
“And do you, Hailey O’Shae, take Oliver Oaks to be your husband? To have and to hold in sickness and health. For richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”
For a millisecond the magnitude of what I’m doing hits. It shouldn’t be taken lightly, yet I seem to do just that. I attempt to hide my smirk. “Of course, he saves me from bagels. Yes, I do.” Now he is the one with a grin.
“Then I pronounce you husband and wife.”
There are no claps or bubbles being blown, only an earie silence. That is until Oliver kisses me, when a symphony plays in my mind.
I deepen our kiss, my tongue delving into his mouth, and our kiss isn’t the same as a day ago. It scares the hell out of me because it’s strong and keeps me rooted to the ground. His lips engulf mine, and it isn’t until we hear the clearing of a throat that we slowly pull away, remembering where we are.
“I wish you both the best,” the judge says.
“Thank you.” I smile.
“Thanks. Also appreciate that we keep this between us.”
The judge waves Oliver off. “You know I can’t say anything. Besides, I’ll be too busy focusing on my golf game next time I hit the green with your father.”
Inside I curse to myself from how silly that sentence was. Everhope elite at their finest.
“Come on, we need to celebrate.”Oliver wraps his arm around my shoulders to guide me away.
When we are outside on the sidewalk, we look at one another, our faces light and nearly blushing.
“That’s us married.” He clucks his tongue.
“It is.” We each appraise the other, trying to figure out what the other is thinking, but it’s a fail. “So… there is a no-return policy on this, right? No 24-hour window, in case I wake up deciding that you might be a horrible husband,” I say in jest, but no line on his face flinches. Not even a smidgen.
“Probably should have asked that before saying ‘I do.’” Then the corner of his mouth tilts up, and I know that he’s teasing me. “I’ll see you at my place since we came in separate cars?” he adds as if it’s a normal day.
Still, I nod once in answer. “I’ll leave my car at my place then walk over. Pretend to be power walking for a new form of exercise.”
Something gnaws inside of me, grinding down a curiosity of what comes next. Order in food? Watch a movie? Take photos of this blessed union? How funny this day is. There are no rules or guidelines for this.
But I like the new tradition of Oliver kissing my forehead with a chaste kiss but his hands on my arms firm with a warning.
Except we probably shouldn’t mix getting physical with a marriage entered into for practicality. In fact, we should keep intimacy out of the equation. It’s safer that way, right?
“I’m here,”I call out as I walk into Oliver’s house. I breathe to myself because everythingdoesfeel different, that’s already obvious.
It’s quiet, and I lift a shoulder. “Hmm, must have already run away from his wife.”
But I hear shuffling upstairs, and Oliver must be changing in his room. I guess we can have a normal night just like a few days ago.
I go find him, with nerves swimming in my stomach. When I find him, he’s by his dresser unbuttoning her shirt. “Oh good, you figured the front door was unlocked, I forgot to mention.” He glances up with a smoldering look, his eyes hypnotizing. “You should have waited outside so I could carry you over the threshold, Mrs. Oliver Oaks.”
I crack a small smile. “I’m not even living with you, so I’m not sure it would be traditional.”
He throws his shirt to the chair in the corner and now he is shirtless. I tear my eyes away because him being half naked won’t help this situation. It only takes a quick glance back to see that he looks curious.
“Everything okay?”
“I think we need to talk about something.” Phew, I’ve started the entry point.
“What might that be?”
