A Beautiful Wedding

Travis shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing the back of his neck and squeezing my hand. He so obviously wanted to tell me something. It was eating at him, and I didn’t know what else to do but squeeze his hand back.

When our boarding group began to form a line, Travis hesitated. “I can’t shake this feeling,” he said.

“What do you mean? Like a bad feeling?” I said, suddenly very nervous. I didn’t know if he meant the plane, or Vegas, or going home. Everything that could go wrong between our next step and our arrival back on campus flashed through my mind.

“I have this crazy feeling that once we get home, I’m going to wake up. Like none of this was real.” Concern shone in his eyes, making them glassy.

Of all the things to worry about, and he was worried about losing me, just as I worried about losing him. It was then, in that moment, that I knew we’d done the right thing. That yes, we were young, and yes, we were crazy, but we were as much in love as anyone. We were older than Romeo and Juliet. Older than my grandparents. It might not have been that long ago since we were children, but there were people with ten or more years of experience who still didn’t have it together. We didn’t have it all together, but we had each other, and that was more than enough.

When we returned, it was likely that everyone would be waiting for the breakdown, waiting for the deterioration of a couple married too young. Just imagining the stares and stories and whispers made my skin crawl. It might take a lifetime to prove to everyone that this works. We’d made so many mistakes, and undoubtedly we would make thousands more, but the odds were in our favor. We’d proven them all wrong before.

After a tennis match of worries and reassurances, I finally wrapped my arms around my husband’s neck, touching my lips ever so slightly to his. “I’d bet my firstborn. That’s how sure I am.” This was a wager I wouldn’t lose.

“You can’t be that sure,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow, my mouth pulling to the side. “Wanna bet?”

Travis relaxed, taking his boarding pass from my fingers, and handing it to the attendant.

“Thank you,” she said, scanning it and then handing it back. She did the same to mine, and just as we had little more than twenty-four hours before, we walked hand in hand down the Jetway.

“Are you hinting at something?” Travis asked. He stopped. “You’re not . . . is that why you wanted to get married?”

I laughed, shook my head, and pulled him along. “God, no. I think we’ve taken a big enough step to last us a while.”

He nodded once. “Fair enough, Mrs. Maddox.” He squeezed my hand, and we boarded the plane for home.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Anniversary


Abby


Water beaded on my skin, mixing with the sunscreen and magnifying the texture of my tanned stomach. The sun beat down on us, and everyone else on the beach, making the heat dance in waves on top of the sand between the patches of brightly colored beach towels.

“Ma’am,” the waiter said, leaning down with two drinks. Sweat dripped off his dark skin, but he was smiling. “Charging to the room?”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, taking my frozen strawberry margarita and signing the check.

America took hers and stirred the ice with her tiny straw. “This. Is. Heaven.”

We all deserved a little Heaven to recover from the last year. After attending dozens of funerals, and helping Travis deal with his guilt, we fielded more questions from investigators. The students who were at the fight kept Travis’s name out of it when speaking with the authorities, but rumors spread, and it took a long time for Adam’s arrest to be enough for the families.

It took a lot of convincing for Travis not to turn himself in. The only thing that seemed to hold him back was my begging for him not to leave me alone, and knowing Trent would be charged with misleading an investigation. The first six months of our marriage was far from easy, and we spent a lot of long nights arguing about what was the right thing to do. Maybe it was wrong for me to keep Travis from prison, but I didn’t care. I didn’t believe he was any more at fault than anyone who had chosen to be in that basement that night. I would never regret my decision, just like I would never regret looking straight into that detective’s eyes and lying my ass off to save my husband.

“Yes,” I said, watching the water climb up the sand and then recede. “We have Travis to thank. He was at the gym with as many clients as he could fit around his classes six days a week from five in the morning to ten o’clock at night. This was all him. It sure wasn’t my tutoring money that got us here.”

“Thank him? When he promised me a real wedding, I didn’t know he meant a year later!”

“America,” I scolded, turning to her. “Could you be more spoiled? We’re on a beach, drinking frozen margaritas in St. Thomas.”

“I guess it gave me some time to plan your bachelorette party and the renewal of your vows,” she said, taking a sip.