Page 135 of The Betrothal

I swallowed, the relief of the juice long gone.

The priest was still speaking. He announced a curtailed service, the decision to simplify driven by the beauty of a love reunited and the urgency of our need to be wed.

I huffed a chuckle, but the noise was more akin to a strained squeak.

The priest paused.

“Continue, please.” Teddy drew his attention away from me.

“Please, face each other,” the priest resumed the service.

Teddy turned to me, lifting the veil covering my eyes. It did nothing to improve my ability to focus.

“We are gathered here to witness the joining of these two people in holy matrimony, in the sight of God.”

Teddy took both my hands in his and I gripped them fiercely. From my position I could see so many faces in my periphery. Each of them moving slightly, reacting slightly, flicking through their order of service. The effect was eerie. Like looking at Van Gogh’s The Starry Night, but after a bottle of wine.

Only this wasn’t art, and I wasn’t under the influence. I was sedated.

“Marriage is a gift, calling two people to walk together through life, in faith, in love, and in trust.”

He turned his attention to us and I struggled to look at him.

“Before we continue, I must ask the bride and groom, if you know of any reason why you may not be joined in marriage, you must speak it now.”

Teddy and I remained silent, his eyes warning me.

“Very well,” the priest chuckled. “Now, I ask those gathered here today, whether they know of any lawful reason why Isabelle and Theodore may not be joined in marriage.”

The church was eerily silent, as one would expect.

I was disappointed, hoping that maybe Ester would take it upon herself to cause a scene, to call me out publicly.

I dared to glance to her, her blurry face was sharp with anger, but she was still silent.

“Wonderful!” the priest declared. “I see you already hold one another’s hands so we can move on to vows.”

The congregation tittered.

“I ask you both, will you love and honour, comfort and strengthen one another and remain faithful to the other for all the days that God grants you?”

“I will,” Teddy called clearly.

“Yes,” I replied, quietly.

The priest fidgeted. “I will, Isabelle?” he prompted. “Someone is a little nervous,” he announced.

“I will,” I repeated.

“Repeat after me please, Theodore. Isabelle, I take you to be my wife, before God and these witnesses. I promise to love you, to cherish you, to protect you and to be faithful to you. To walk with you in the journey of our lives. I give you my heart.”

Teddy grinned handsomely. “Isabelle, I take you to be my wife, before God and these witnesses. I promise to love you, to cherish you, to protect you and to be faithful to you. To walk with you in the journey of our lives. I give you my heart.” He cupped my cheek on the final words, the congregation cooing at the display.

“Isabelle, please repeat after me. Theodore, I take you to be my husband, before God and these witnesses. I promise to love you, to cherish you, to protect you, to be faithful to you and to obey you. To walk with you in the journey of our lives. I give you my heart.”

“Theodore,” I started, slowly. “I take you to be my husband…” I trailed off, the words slipping from my mind.

“Before God and these witnesses,” the priest prompted.