Niko answered when required. His voice never faltered.
When it was my turn, the priest looked at me with gentle expectation.
My throat closed.
I looked at Niko.
He was not impatient. He did not tighten his hand or warn me with his eyes. He simply waited.
That restraint gave me enough room to speak.
“I do.”
The words left me and became permanent.
The ring he placed on my finger was simple, a narrow band of platinum set with a small diamond. I had expected something enormous and vulgar, a jewel designed to announce ownership from across a room.
Instead, it fit perfectly.
Of course it did.
Someone had known the size of my finger just as someone had known the measurements for the dress.
When the priest told him he could kiss the bride, Niko hesitated.
It lasted less than a second, but I noticed.
He placed one hand lightly against my waist and bent his head. His lips touched mine with formal precision. The kiss was brief enough for the church and distant enough for strangers.
