Page 86 of The Oath We Give

I love my sister, and when I see the subtle tears in her eyes shining from the bathroom overhead lights, it kills me. I’d do anything to secure her happiness, but I can’t lie to her.

I can’t tell her I’ll give it a shot because I can’t.

So I do the next best thing.

“Give me the stupid dress.”

SILAS

“Sir.” The judge clears her throat. “If the bride isn’t here in the next ten minutes, we will have to reschedule.”

I look down the short aisle past the wooden pews. I’m not one to get anxious. Rarely, if ever, do I doubt myself. But I knew after last night’s game of hide-and-seek, the probability of Coraline being spooked was high.

Maybe it’s ignorance telling me she’ll show up anyway. That she’s too stubborn and strong-willed to back down. I know how much Lilac means to her, and Coraline knows I’ll keep my word. That if something happens to her, she’ll be taken care of.

Despite our connection, she won’t risk her sister’s safety.

If the email I received this morning from who I assume is Stephen, is anything to go by, she’ll need my protection from him. It was one line, enough to let me know my little virus had fucked his entire plan.

You think I need a video to end you four? This game has only just begun.

“I need a moment,” I say to the only other person in this room, the judge sitting at the raised platform behind me.

I stride down the aisle, pressing my palms into the large doors. When they open to the main foyer, I’m met with hundreds of people bustling around the alabaster floors. Men and women in work attire, random strangers trying not to miss their court appointments.

It’s much different than the quiet room I’d just left. I reach into my pocket, fishing for my phone, prepared to call her and lure her out, but it seems I don’t have to.

Amongst the sea of faceless bodies, she descends from the sweeping grand staircase. Her hair is pulled back, exposing her sharp features. The makeup she’s wearing is different from her usual dark eyeliner. It’s softer, more neutral. Sunlight from the wall of windows touches every step she takes down the marble and granite.

Her white gown follows every curve of her body like a second skin.

I hadn’t expected her to wear a wedding dress, but now that she has, I don’t want to see her in anything else, wrapped in miles of silk fabric that I want to shred with my teeth.

“Jesus Christ,” a man passing by me mumbles, stopping to watch her.

I wonder if it’s the plunging neckline showing miles of her smooth skin or the delicate lace that dresses her arms that made him pause.

It would be easy to get distracted by the looks of her, but that’s not what has me so transfixed. It’s the way her head tilts up, unfazed by the eyes on her, not an ounce of anything but confidence in every step toward me.

The silk sweeps down, a pool of fabric that flows around her feet when she finally reaches me. There’s a tight smile on her lips as she picks up the dress at her waist, waving it around.

“Too much?”

Her eyes glimmer in the sunlight, like molten gold.

Melted honey in coffee. My fucking favorite.

They have warmth that could melt away worry and a sharpness that could cut through bullshit.

The eyes never lie.

She is both gentle and fierce. Honey and chestnut. Cold and hot.

A little enigma.

“Perfect.”

Pink tints her cheeks as she clears her throat, that confidence she carried just moments ago melting underneath my gaze. Like what I’m thinking makes her self-conscious.

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