Page 82 of His Puppet

“Done.”

She beams and grabs my face, crouching so she can crash her lips to mine.

I hold onto the back of my beautiful bride-to-be’s neck, feeling a relief greater than any in my life. We kiss like this for a long time, probably catching all kinds of odd looks from anyone around, but not caring.

Finally, she pulls away with tears in her eyes. If it weren’t for the smile stretched on her face, I’d be worried.

“Tell me you love me one more time,” she says, fidgeting with my grandmother’s ring.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now, don’t be mad, but I have to ask you something.”

I tilt my head and stand, taking both her hands in mine. “Anything.”

“You said this was your grandmother’s?” she asks, biting her lip.

I nod. “Yes. My father’s mother.”

“How did you get it? I mean…”

“You mean what?”

“Did your mom wear it before me?”

I blink a few times and try to figure out what she’s getting at, but when I can’t figure it out, I answer honestly. “Yes, she did.”

Her eyes widen a brief second, and I wonder if I said or did something wrong.

“Oh…” She looks away.

“Is that weird?” I ask, wishing I’d just went to Jarrod’s like the commercials say to.

“It’s… Well…” She blows out a breath and meets my eyes. “Did you kill your mom?”

At first, I’m stunned. My eyes widen, and I rear back, but another moment and I’m laughing. “What?”

No answer. She’s serious.

“No, I didn’t kill my mom. Why would you think that?”

“But then how did you get this?” She pulls her hands back and touches the ring.

That is kind of a touchy subject, but I have no intention of letting my mother ruin this for me too.

“She threw it at my father’s face right before she left us. Why would you think I killed her?”

Emily considers that for a moment then puts her hand to her forehead and laughs. “Jesus, I’m sorry. Fucking Victor put all this shit in my head today, and—”

I put a finger to her lips and kiss her forehead. “Quit listening to the rumors. When we get home, I’ll tell you the whole,realstory.”

She pulls back and gives me a small smile. “I’d like that.”

I peck her lips then put my arm over her shoulders as we slowly make our way to our car.

“I guess I can actually start thinking of it as ‘home’ now, huh?” she asks, her voice light.

I smile and squeeze her shoulder, letting myself parrot her earlier words. “I’d like that.”

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