Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Let’s do this.
Time to become Mrs. Silvan Koch.
I leave the mirror and the bridal suite to join my seven pretend friends outside the doors to the room where everyone is gathered, waiting to watch me walk down the aisle.
That thought fuels some anxiety, but before I can worry too much about it, my new father-in-law steals my attention. His gaze flickers over me impassively, then he offers his arm. “Ready?”
I nod and swallow. “I think so.”
He’s still a little scary and maybe not my first choice of person to give me away at my wedding, but Melanie thought it would be nice, so here we both are.
“Any last words of wisdom?” I ask lightly.
“Try not to trip.”
I’m caught off-guard by his joke so a startled laugh slips out of me. “Got it. Excellent advice, thank you.”
“No need to pretend my advice will end at your wedding,” he says silkily. “You’re my family now. You’ll hear my input as often as I want to give it.”
That’s less funny because I know how true it is. I never thought I would marry a man with so many strings attached to him, but as volatile as they are, I really enjoy all of Silvan’s family. None of them are quite what they seem upon first impression and they’re all a little scary, but I really do feel like I’ve been welcomed into the fold with open arms.
After all that “I’ll kill you if you step out of line” business, anyway.
The girls go down the aisle ahead of us, and then it’s our turn.
The music swells and a grin of anticipation splits my face, then I walk with Silvan’s dad to the mouth of the aisle.
I feel like a princess—on the arm of a scary king, on the way to my happily ever after with my own dark prince.
Silvan’s gaze hits mine and his chest puffs up. I can see his pleasure at the mere sight of me, feel it fill me up with sheer joy.
So this is love.
I don’t feel any of the hundreds of eyes I know are trained on me. There’s no swell of self-consciousness or anxiety like I expected.
When he looks at me like that, it’s just me and Silvan, and that’s not scary.
I was unnerved anticipating it, though, and I’m overcome with emotion as I join Silvan on the altar. My hands are trembling when he takes mine, but his are firm and steady.
Everyone takes their seat, and the pastor starts speaking, but it’s all white noise until we get to make our vows.
“And do you Sophie take Silvan to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort and cherish him all the days of your life?”
I smile at Silvan, and he gives my hands a little squeeze. “I do.”
I feel like I mean it more than most brides do.
Like I have to.
I want to, as well, but I’m under no illusions that I ever really had a choice. My desiring this outcome is just a stroke of good fortune and clever planning on Silvan’s part.
Meeting Silvan was a little like surviving a natural disaster, but coming out with a better life because of it. He wasn’t in my plan and there was little warning he would strike and wipe out life as I knew it, but because he did, I have a life I never even knew to dream of.
And now, we’re going to live happily ever after.
Or else.