“I am,” she says, grabbing my face in her hands and desperately seeking my lips with her own. “I will.”
“For better or worse?” I scoop her into my arms, her knees resting in the crook of my elbows, my hands gripping her ankles as her hair waterfalls around us and she kisses me like it’s the first time, and the last time, and every time in between. Like she’s finally coming home.
“Through the good times and the bad. In sickness and in health.”
“Come what may.” I turn around and carry her across the small porch.
“Until death do us part,” she whispers, still not entirely comfortable with the D word.
“Always.” I deepen our kiss.
“And ever.” She smiles down at me as I carry her into the cabin. Our house. Our home as husband and wife. Our happy ever after.