Page 54 of Still The One

‘Don’t worry,’ I tell him. ‘The morphine will. You pretty much sleep still all night, just a rustle of snoring is all I hear.’

‘I snore?’ he asks, as if he didn’t know.

‘Take these,’ I say, handing him a handful of pills.

He swallows them down and relaxes into my bed. I’m sure he’d be more comfortable if I were in there next to him, but intrusive thoughts be damned.

‘The sling off feels so much better. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Goodnight, Fost,’ I say, leaning down and flipping off the naughty boy lamp.

‘Goodnight, Jellybean.’

I wonder what he’ll relive tonight? I hope it’s something good. The best part of us. And I don’t even understand why the thought is crossing my mind at all.

21

EVE CASSIDY

Five Years Ago

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this!’ I exclaim.

‘You can’t fight love,’ Foster says, his fingers interlaced with mine as he gives me a reassuring squeeze. His touch is warm and comforting, and I can feel his love coursing through his grasp. ‘It’s like trying to hold back an ocean with your bare hands.’

I glance up at him with a smile. ‘You better write that down for your vows.’

‘How can I help you two?’ a mousy woman behind the court registrar counter asks. She’s barely taller than the vase of white daisies sitting on the counter beside her.

‘We’re here for a marriage license,’ Foster says.

‘Congratulations!’ she chirps happily, reaching into a file full of paperwork. ‘Fill these out and we’ll need a copy of each of your driver’s licenses.’

The two of us fish our licenses out from our wallets and begin completing the documents she’s given us.

‘Where’s the ceremony taking place?’ she asks.

Foster’s and my eyes meet.

‘That’s something we haven’t thought of yet,’ I say to him.

‘I just proposed yesterday, on a whim.’

‘Yesterday?’ the woman asks.

He nods. ‘We’re sort of doing this spontaneously.’

‘How romantic!’ she says, suddenly lifting a single finger into the air. ‘Give me just one second.’ She turns, disappearing from the small office while we finish up our paperwork.

‘How do you think your parents will feel?’ I ask, signing my name on the bottom of the paper.

‘That I’m nuts, but that’s their usual opinion of me, so no surprise.’

I laugh, leaning into him and kissing his shoulder as he finishes his document. ‘You’re the best kind of nuts.’

‘Save that for your vows,’ he says, scribbling out his usual signature, minus the ‘Famous 15’ he usually adds on.

When the mousy woman reappears, she has a middle-aged man in a black robe with her. ‘This is Judge Ashford. Today is his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and he’d love to marry you two in his chambers,’ she offers with a friendly smile.

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