Page 16 of Lock 'em Down

My one hand is pressed against Cami’s cheek. Her arms are wrapped around my waist, clinging to me.

The minister clears his throat, and we break apart, turning to look at him. “That’s for after you say I do,” he jokes, pointing at us.

Cami giggles and I grin.

“See you at the altar?” I whisper.

She holds up the bouquet of flowers I swiped. “I’ll be the girl in jeans.”

I laugh, a genuine, boisterous laugh.

She blows me a kiss and shoos me away.

And I stride to the altar to wait for the woman who will become my wife.

Cami. Camille… Shit, what’s her last name?

Five

Cami

I’m not much of a crier. Not like my sister Jenna. Or Izzy. But my eyes glisten as I walk down the aisle to Leif.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating. It’s not the wedding I imagined but right now I’m happy. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is trust your intuition.

For a long time, after Levi, I forgot how to do that. But not anymore. Not tonight.

I’m not supposed to feel this much for a man I just met. But tequila braces me with a different type of courage, and I stride toward the man looking at me like I hung the moon.

Nerves gather in the pit of my stomach. A thrill of excitement shimmies across my shoulders. When I reach his side, calmness sweeps through me.

The minister begins his speech but I’m looking into Leif’s bottomless blue eyes, free-falling.

Leif’s expression is more serious than I anticipated. He’s not cracking up or making jokes. He’s not high out of his mind and slurring. He’s holding my hand and peering into my soul.

I shiver from the intensity of his gaze and his eyebrows draw together slightly, as if concerned. I squeeze his hand to let him know I’m good.

I mean, sure, I’m a little nervous. Excited. Giddy. But in the best way possible. Leif and I clicked on a level I want to live in. A long time ago, I made bold decisions and embraced moments. Then, I became too fearful to make another misstep that I stopped savoring opportunities when they were presented.

This is one I don’t want to miss out on. I’m not fearful, I’m elated.

Truly, genuinely happy.

We say our vows with an honesty I feel deep in my bones. Our voices are clear, ringing out in the space between us with a finality that isn’t scary. It doesn’t make me feel trapped. Instead, it’s freeing. Filled with possibilities.

When it’s time to exchange rings, both sides of Leif’s mouth curl into a brilliant smile as he slides the purple crown on my finger.

We both stare in disbelief when it’s—“a perfect fit,” I breathe out, as if it confirms the success of our marriage.

I wiggle my fingers, admiring my ring.

I probably shouldn’t love the piece of plastic as much as I do but it feels like a treasure.

Then, I pull the ring I made Leif—a knock-off Rainbow Looms circle of tiny, multi-colored, plastic hair ties I had in my purse and fashioned together in the women’s bathroom—from my pocket and roll it onto his finger.

He chuckles in disbelief, his eyes shining. “You’re resourceful. I like that.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the minister concludes.

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