Page 229 of Snap Shot

“You there, baby?” His voice, shaky, hoarse with restlessness—and barely audible over the priest clamoring a spoon against a steel dish—sparks goosebumps up my arms. Tight streamers of white flowers hang between us like a sheet.

“I'm here.”

Mom places a garland between my hands in preparation for our first look.

Landon puffs out a breath. I catch a glimpse of his lowered eyes through the shroud. Relieved sobs through laughs wrack through me as they remove the floral wall.

On the other side, the sweetest man alive falls apart, the tears sitting on the thick line of lashes spilling down his face on sight. His nearly-closed, wrinkled eyes hide the pretty blue shade underneath.

I'm not sure because I'm a mess myself, but I think I see Jaeger, Wade, and Donovan shrugging off tears, too. A chorus ofawwwechoes in the tent.

Most grooms playfully evade the bride's offered garland, but Landon? My overeager husband-to-be doesn't wait for the priest's instructions and tucks his head through it. When I feign hesitation and dodge his attempt, he pokes his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head, lowering it with resignation.

“Just kidding,” I tease, wrapping my wrists around his to put the varmaala over my covered head.

Nik and Esha loosen its hold around my neck from where it weighs down my chundari.

So much of the ceremony is a blur, despite my best efforts to soak in every moment. At least until we're given the seven vows to read aloud while taking our first steps together as a wedded couple.

I start. “We promise to respect and honor each other.”

“We promise to always support one another mentally, emotionally, and physically,” Landon adds.

“We promise to be faithful to one another.”

My husband wears a naughty smile. “We promise to fulfill each other's needs: mind, soul, andbody.” He emphasizes the last word.

I'll hear it from my mother afterward for rolling my eyes during the ceremony, but I can't help it. I reach for the mic, but he elbows my hand away, continuing. “We promise to create and raise many,many, noble and virtuous children who will beexceptionalat playing puck.”

The crowd giggles.

“Landon!” I gasp at his off-script commentary. My taut palm meets his shoulder with a slap. “That isnotwhat that says!”

He lets me have the mic, stifling his chuckling against his wrist.

“We promise to grow old together, hoping for long lives filled with peace and success.”

He wrangles it back from my hand with ease, the big bully, but it's worth it. Because he looks at no one but me when he announces the final vow. “We promise to build a life of friendship, love, and mutual trust. Always.”

I melt.

When we stand to receive blessings from our elders, Nani signals for me to bow and touch Landon's feet. The feminist within burns, but out of respect for tradition, I listen.

“Lift your skirt,” he murmurs as I straighten.

“Excuse me?” Rage simmers, threatening to spill out through my clenched teeth. He sighs and bends over to pick up the bottom hem, positioning his warm hand over my cold foot.

“Landon, what are you doing?”

“What do you mean? Aren't we supposed to bow to one another?”

My shoulders rise, unsure of what to say. His head turns to the priest. “You said when we’re on the altar, Indira and I are the human form of the higher power.”

Mom and Dad gape, shocked. My sisters, too.

“If I am her god, then she is my goddess.” He refocuses on me, still at my feet, the ocean of his eyes swirling with adoration. “She is strength and sacrifice personified, and there is no one else I'd rather spend my life worshipping.”

Approving applause rings out and continues as we exit down the aisle.

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