Page 160 of The Forgotten Queen
She’d been through a lot, but her past didn’t define her. She wasn’t broken. She’d gotten stronger, learned how to fight for the life she wanted. Her story hadn’t ended in Albion the day she’d been shot. The quicksand of life hadn’t dragged her down. She could write her own ending, and she could do it with Marx.
He stepped back, pulling her farther into the water. Her dress darkened and felt heavier as the water crept up her legs to her torso.
“Hop on,” he said, holding the board steady. “I’m going to take you for a ride.”
Epilogue
Seran
Fall 2261
Seran leaned over in the back of the transporter and unbuttoned the top three buttons of Marx’s shirt.
“I thought you didn’t like that,” Marx said, eyeing her.
“I never said I didn’t like it. I said I liked ittoomuch.”
His lips curved into a playful smile as his finger tapped on the middle of her chest. “Maybe we should get you a dress with buttons on the front. Then I could unbutton the top three buttons on you.”
Seran shook her head. “Nice try, but I have a scar there.”
“So?”
“So it’s ugly, and I don’t want anyone to see it.”
He smirked. “You let me see it.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s different. I don’t feel self-conscious about anything in front of you.”
Marx pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Seran, even your scar is beautiful.Everythingabout you is beautiful.”
His unconditional love would never get old.
Never.
The vehicle rolled to a stop.
“It’s time,” he breathed between them.
The door opened, and she exited the vehicle, turning to him. “Marx, this is stupid. I don’t know what we’re doing.”
“We’re getting married.”
“But we’realreadymarried.”
He slid his hand down the side of her cheek, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You deserve the wedding you want.”
Dannyn walked up beside them. “Yes, you do! I was at your last wedding, and it was so awkward.”
“I was at your first wedding two years ago,” her father said, standing behind their transporter, “and we don’t need to talk about how terrible that was.”
Seran smiled, looking back at Marx. “Okay, then. Let’s get married.”
He kissed her cheek softly, then let her go. “I’ll see you down there.”
She admired the back of Marx as he walked away. He had light blue shorts on and a white button-up shirt. The top three buttons were undone—thanks to her—and his sleeves were rolled up. He looked casual and handsome, the way she liked him best.
Dannyn handed her a bouquet of tropical flowers. “You look beautiful.”
