“Go eat some breakfast,” I grunt out as I unbuckle my slacks. “We’ll leave in an hour.”
She bolts from my presence before I even get the words out of my mouth.
As we drive to the church, I expect Talia to argue, or ask me to check on my brother, or beg me not to make her go through with this marriage, but she doesn’t. After my shower, she quickly took her own. Then, she fixed her hair and put on makeup before donning a simple, silky white dress I laid out for her. She’s being ridiculously compliant, which makes me feel uneasy.
I’d thought about calling Aris, but I know how he is. He was a momma’s boy. If I know him, he’s gotten wasted, cried his eyes out, and fucked his way into oblivion. His villa is probably destroyed due to one of his tantrums. And with time, he’ll get better. I’m not the person to help him out of his sea of grief. I’m treading water as it is. Thank fuck I have Talia as a lifeline, breathing fresh, healing water into me with every breath I take.
She’s quiet when we arrive and doesn’t pull away when I take her hand before walking inside. I’d called ahead to tell the priest it’d be a private wedding with just the bride and groom. I’m sure news has spread about my mother and he wisely didn’t ask. I simply instructed him to be ready for us, not wanting to waste another minute.
Father Nicholas greets us once we’re inside the empty cathedral that’s already been decorated. Talia’s heels clack along the marble floors as we follow him down the center aisle to the altar. Once up front, I take both her hands while Father Nicholas flips through his Bible.
“Ready?” I ask Talia.
A line between her brows deepens. “Not really.”
I rub my thumbs over the backs of her hands. “Too bad.”
Her nostrils flare, giving me a preview of the fiery woman she can be when she’s not overcome by fear of her situation. One day, I’ll pull her from her fear that has its steely hold on her, and into my arms, where she can be herself all the time.
One day.
“Okay,” Father Nicholas chirps. “And so let us begin…”
As he recites verses from the Bible, I admire Talia’s pretty features. Wide, brilliant blue eyes that say so much all at once. A petite, slightly upturned nose that begs to be kissed. It’s her lips, though, that always steal the show. Full, naturally dark pink, glistening and parted as though she’s desperate to be kissed.
I’m going to kiss you a lot, moró mou.
“Talia,” Father Nicholas gently urges. “Here’s where you state your vows.”
Her eyes widen as she gapes at me. “I didn’t know we were writing vows.”
“It’s okay,” Father Nicholas says. “Repeat after me.”
As he recites words from the Bible that Talia breathlessly repeats, her cheeks blaze red. Shame. I think she might be embarrassed that she didn’t come up with her own vows. Not that I expected her to. She’s made it clear she thinks this wedding is a sham. I don’t hold her responsible for thinking that way. When they finish, I clear my throat.
“Talia, you were born to be a Demetriou. Fate knew it, I know it, and one day you’ll know it, too. Too many things over the past decade have happened to lead to this exact moment for us to believe otherwise. At this point, we not only must accept it, but we must embrace it.” I pin her with a fierce look that I hope she can feel down to her pretty toes. “I, Kostas Angelo Demetriou, vow to protect you always from yourself, from others, and from me. When you take my name, you take a part of me, and I will treat you as though you are a valued piece of me. The truth you’ll come to learn is that I am yours now as much as you are mine. I vow to learn every part of you in hope you’ll want to learn every part of me. If you ever lose your way, I vow to find you and guide you back to a place where we can be truly happy. By taking my ring and my name, you’re taking me too. We’re bound in more ways than either of us can count. For me, it will be until death. And I vow to never let you go, even then.”
Tears slide down her red cheeks as she regards me with a mixture of confusion and worry. It makes me want to lick the tears right from her face and vow to her what I’ll do to make her scream a little later on. But, alas, Father completes the ceremony by asking us to exchange rings. She seems surprised when he hands her my titanium band that says Demetriou carved along the outside of the band. Inside, it has our initials and today’s date. Once she shakily slips my ring on my finger, I place a platinum one beside her massive diamond. Her ring, too, has the same inscriptions.