Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“I better not have anything about the squishy head of my penis in these vows,” I whispered.
Which, of course, was when the minister stopped talking.
There was a wall of chuckles from the men seated behind me. Conrad full out laughed.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and Mattie started to giggle.
Sighing, I opened my eyes, withdrew the paper she’d handed me from my pocket, and began to read.
“I, Etienne ‘Sexy Pants’ LaFayette, take you, Gorgeous, Gorgeous Matilda, to be my lawfully wedded—what even is lawfully wedded anyway?—wife. To have and to hold, to allow to squish and to touch, from this day forward. I will always do the dishes and occasionally brush your hair, every day. Or whatever. I will learn to braid hair like Wake, not for the sake of our kids, but because I want to always do what you love.” I stopped as the men of the club started to chuckle. “I also promise never to complain each time you want to change the paint in the house, or bring home a goat. Furthermore, when the time comes, I promise to get up with the kids at least every other day and Saturdays because we both know you like to sleep in and you’ll do whatever I want. With this ring, blah, blah, blah. I promise to never cheat. Not even at Monopoly. I love you.”
I dropped the paper to my side and shook my head with a grin on my face. This woman.
She really knew how to make my life complete.
“Now you put the ring on my finger,” Matilda whispered loudly.
Again, that cracked the entire church up.
Diana, who was holding both rings, handed me Matilda’s with a huge smile.
The ring was yet another thing we had to worry about. Rubber didn’t feel right. Neither did a traditional wedding ring. What did feel right was a simple gold band so thin you could barely feel it.
I slipped it onto her finger and she curled her hand into a tight fist. Holding it there forever if she could.
“And you now, baby,” I teased.
She pulled out the small piece of paper from a pocket I hadn’t realized she even had. She unfolded it, and I saw the Walmart receipt that I’d written them on.
It wasn’t much, but it was all I needed.
“I, Matilda, I’m not even going to bother saying my last name since it doesn’t matter anymore, take you, Etienne, to be my husband. I promise to always tell you I love you even when I don’t. I promise to never leave. I promise to always wake you up Sunday mornings with a smile and spend the day with you being lazy. I also promise to never, ever, ever do anything dangerous again,” she read off the paper.
“Your turn,” Conrad whispered just as loudly as Matilda had earlier. “The ring.”
My ring wasn’t much different than Matilda’s. Though thicker, it was just a simple gold band that would hopefully withstand the test of time.
I didn’t need anything special to prove that I was fully committed to Mattie. I just needed a symbol. A sign that I was committed.
The ring might not mean the same to some men, but that hunk of metal she slid onto my finger felt like everything to me.
It felt like finally coming home.
Like taking a deep breath after being submerged in water just a little too long. Like the first cool morning after hundred-degree heat for a month.
It felt like my whole life had changed with just the slide of a ring.
Exactly how I wanted it.
“Well then,” the minister said, sounding amused, “with the power vested in me, I now pronounce you…”
I didn’t wait. I pulled her to me by the waist and kissed her.
I kissed her deep and slow, pouring my heart and soul into that single promise.
When I pulled away, I finally said the words that I’d held off saying for some reason.
“I love you.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“No more, not yet?” she teased.
“Never, no more, not yet,” I confirmed.
• • •
One and a half years later
It should have occurred to us after nearly two years of unprotected sex that something was wrong.
However, it was only after a routine OB-GYN appointment that Matilda came home with a look of worry on her face.
It took us another six months to realize that we were both messed up.
She had issues with her eggs, while I had almost no sperm count to speak of.
Between the two of us, we were a match made in hell in the baby-making department.
Which led us to now.
“You’re denied adoption because of your ex-con status,” Matilda read the certified letter we got in the mail. “Shit.”
We’d expected that answer.
In fact, when we’d first started to look into this particular avenue, it was with the full knowledge that this might be a possibility.
“What do we do now?” I asked morosely.