Page 95 of Checks & Bonds

I staredat myself in the small mirror of the dressing room, fingers trembling against the lace of my dress. The church’s stained glass windows cast colorful shadows across the room, but I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of it. My mind raced.

Why did I think I was ready for this?

The questions swirled, each one louder than the last. What if I messed up? What if Henry changed his mind at the last second? I had made so many mistakes already—mistakes that had nearly ruined everything. What if another one bit me in the ass? What if I decided I wasn’t going to do it?

My heart pounded, the pressure building in my chest. The old wooden chair creaked as I shifted, unable to find a comfortable position. Henry had arranged everything so meticulously. The church he used to attend with his grandfather was a nostalgic touch. He must have paid a lot to get married on such short notice, but he had managed it. The marriage license, the pastor, the witness—all were in place.

All they were waiting on was me.

I stood up, the rustle of the dress echoing in the quiet room. The weight of the decision pressed down on my shoulders. Could I really go through with this? I thought back to our countless arguments, the heated exchanges, the moments of doubt. Butthen there were the moments that made it all worth it—cleaning his knuckles, feeling a flicker of something real.

My gaze fell on the door. Just beyond it, Henry was waiting. His determination had always been both infuriating and admirable. I knew he was furious when I refused to eat dinner that night, the anger seething beneath his calm exterior. He’d beaten up Jensen in a fit of rage, and I had been the one to clean him up. We had shared a moment then, a fleeting glimpse of something deeper.

But was it enough?

I took a deep breath, smoothing the dress once more. My reflection stared back at me, eyes filled with uncertainty. My thoughts raced again. I had come this far, made it through the ups and downs, and yet, here I was, frozen with indecision.

Henry’s voice floated in my head.You're worth it.

I turned to the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. The dress hugged my curves, delicate lace cascading down to the floor. My hair was pinned up, loose tendrils framing my face. I looked different, almost unrecognizable. There was a strength in my eyes I hadn’t noticed before, a resolve that hadn’t been there when this all began.

"You're worth it,"I told myself.

My heart skipped a beat. It felt amazing coming from Henry, but hearing it from myself? That was something else entirely. For a moment, the doubts faded. The uncertainty that had plagued me lifted, replaced by a newfound confidence.

I was ready.

Really, this time.

I took another deep breath, straightening my shoulders. This was my choice, my life. Henry and I had been through hell and back, but we had survived. We were stronger for it. I was stronger for it. The reflection in the mirror confirmed it—I wasn’t the same girl who had walked into the library that day, searching for a way out.

The soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. My heart fluttered, but I felt grounded, ready to face whatever came next.

I took one last deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and opened the door. The hallway outside the dressing room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the old stone walls. A soft murmur of voices echoed down the corridor, guiding me toward the sanctuary.

The silence enveloped me as I stepped into the main chapel. My footsteps echoed off the high, arched ceilings, and the scent of incense hung heavy in the air. The church was beautiful, with its intricate stained glass windows and wooden pews. It felt timeless, like stepping into a different world.

The aisle stretched before me, long and empty. At the end, Henry stood beside the pastor, his broad shoulders filling out a dark suit that fit him perfectly. His hands were clasped in front of him, his posture rigid, but his eyes softened when they met mine. Beside him, the pastor held a solemn expression, and the witness—a middle-aged man I didn't recognize—stood silently, waiting.

I took the first step, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. Each step felt deliberate, echoing in the quiet church. I could feel the lace of my dress brushing against my legs, the delicate fabric a reminder of the gravity of the occasion.

As I walked down the aisle, I couldn't take my eyes off Henry. He looked every bit the part of the handsome groom, with his chiseled features and intense gaze. His dark hair was neatly styled, and the suit hugged his frame in all the right places. My stomach twisted at the sight of him, a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside me.

That's my husband, I thought.That'smine.

The realization hit me with full force. This was real. The man who had driven me to the brink and pulled me back again, was about to become my husband. The man who had infuriated me, challenged me, and, in his own way, cared for me.

I reached the end of the aisle, standing before him. His eyes searched mine, and I could see the same blend of emotions reflected back at me—determination, hope, and something deeper, something unspoken.

The pastor cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Freya Reynolds and Henry Mathers in holy matrimony," he began, his voice steady and reassuring.

I barely heard him, my focus entirely on Henry. This was it. This was the beginning of our future together.

Henry's eyes never left mine. I could see a flicker of emotion in them, a rare vulnerability that he rarely showed. It made my heart swell with an emotion I couldn’t quite name.

“Marriage is a sacred bond, a union of two souls who promise to support and cherish each other through all of life’s trials and triumphs.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words. Henry’s hand found mine, his grip firm and reassuring. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, grounding me in the present moment.

---