MARRY YOUR KILLER
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Wedding
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The morning came gray and soft, the sun hidden behind clouds, the air thick with the promise of rain. Jay stood in her room, the white dress on her body, her mother's pearls cold against her throat. She had slept on the steps with Keifer until dawn, his arm around her, her head on his chest, the garden quiet around them. He had walked her back to her room when the sun started to rise. He had kissed her forehead. He had said nothing.
Now she stood in front of the mirror, and she didn't recognize the woman looking back.
Her mother had come early. She was standing behind Jay now, her hands on Jay's shoulders, her face reflected in the glass. She was wearing gold, the color of their family, the color of weddings and funerals and everything in between.
"You look beautiful," her mother said.
Jay didn't answer.
"Your father wanted to be here. He couldn't. The doctors said—"
"I know."
Her mother's hands tightened on her shoulders. "This is what we wanted. For you. For the family. For the war to end."
Jay looked at her mother in the mirror. The woman who had raised her. The woman who had taught her to be still, to be silent, to be the daughter her father needed.
"Is it?" Jay asked.
Her mother's face didn't change. But her hands dropped.
"This is what we have," her mother said. "This is what we've always had."
Jay turned. She took her mother's hands. They were cold.
"I love him," Jay said.
Her mother's eyes widened. Just a fraction. Just enough for Jay to see.
"I didn't choose this," Jay said. "I didn't choose him. But I love him. And I'm not going to leave."
Her mother stared at her. The room was quiet. The house was quiet. The whole world was quiet.
"You signed a contract," her mother said.
"I signed a contract because I was scared. I'm not scared anymore."
Her mother pulled her hands away. She walked to the window. Her back was straight. Her hands were steady.
"Your father is dying," her mother said. "Your uncle is trying to kill us. The war isn't over. It's never been over."
She turned. Her face was calm. Her eyes were not.
"You can love him," she said. "But you can't trust him. You can't trust anyone. Not until this is over."
Jay walked to her mother. She stood beside her at the window. The garden was below them, the flowers blooming, the steps where she had sat with Keifer all night.
"I trust him," Jay said.
Her mother looked at her. For a moment, her face softened. For a moment, she looked like the woman who had held Jay when she was small, who had read her stories, who had promised her that everything would be okay.
"Then trust him," her mother said. "But don't let your guard down. Not until your uncle is gone. Not until the war is over."
She kissed Jay's forehead. She walked out of the room. The door closed behind her.
Jay stood at the window. The garden was empty. The steps were empty. The dress was white on her body. The pearls were cold on her throat.
She was getting married today.
---
The church was full.
Jay stood in the back, her hand on her father's arm. He was in his wheelchair, his barong pressed, his face pale. He hadn't spoken in weeks. But today, he was sitting up. Today, he was watching the aisle, waiting to walk his daughter to the man she was supposed to marry.
The doors opened. The music started.
Jay looked at the aisle. At the people waiting. At her mother in the front row, her face calm, her hands folded. At Ci N beside her, his eyes wet, his hands shaking. At Percy in the back, his smile wide, his thumbs up. At Aries beside him, their face soft, their hands in their pockets. At Yuri in the corner, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on her.
She looked at Keifer.
He was standing at the altar, his suit black, his hair neat, his face calm. He was looking at her. He was the only thing she could see.
Her father's hand was on hers. His grip was weak, but it was there.
"Go," he whispered. His voice was thin. Barely there. "Go to him."
She walked.
The aisle was long. The faces blurred. She saw Freya in the second row, her arms crossed, her eyes sharp. Rakki beside her, her grin wide. Mica with her laptop, still working, always working. Ella with her hands folded, her face soft. Lyra in the back, her bandages white against her hair, Alex beside her, his hand on hers. Care with her medical bag, always ready. Grace beside her, her eyes scanning the room for threats. Cole beside Care, his hand on her arm.
She saw Percy crying. She saw Ci N filming. She saw Aries smiling.
She saw Keifer.
She stopped in front of him. Her father's hand fell away. The priest spoke. She didn't hear him.
Keifer took her hands. His fingers were warm. His eyes were steady.
"You're here," he said.
"I'm here."
He smiled. It was small. Tired. Real.
The priest spoke again. Words about love, about honor, about promises that were supposed to last forever. Jay heard none of it. She was looking at Keifer's face. At the shadows under his eyes. At the scar on his lip. At the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the room.
"Do you take this man?" the priest asked.
She looked at Keifer. At the contract in his desk drawer. At the two years that were supposed to end in leaving.
"I do," she said.
"Do you take this woman?" the priest asked.
Keifer looked at her. His hands tightened on hers.
"I do," he said.
The priest smiled. He said the words. The words that were supposed to bind them together.
"You may kiss the bride," the priest said.
Keifer leaned forward. His lips touched hers. Soft. Brief. A kiss that meant nothing. A kiss that meant everything.
The church erupted.
Percy was shouting. Ci N was crying. Rakki was whistling. Alex was clapping. Cole was laughing. Lyra was almost smiling.
Jay looked at Keifer. His face was close. His eyes were dark.
"Two years," she said.
He kissed her again. Longer this time. Slower.
"We'll see," he said.
---
The reception was at the house.
The garden was lit with lanterns. The flowers were blooming. The steps where they had sat all night were covered in white cloth, waiting for them. The chaos was everywhere. Percy was dancing with Ci N. Felix was recording. Rakki was betting on something. Mica was at a table with her laptop, Calix beside her. Lyra was in her corner, Alex beside her, his chair pulled close.
Jay stood in the middle of it all. Her dress was white. Her pearls were warm. Her husband was beside her.
Keifer's hand was in hers. His fingers were warm. His grip was steady.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm thinking."
He looked at her. "About what?"
She looked at the garden. At her family. At his family. At the lines between them that weren't there anymore.
"The contract," she said.
His hand tightened on hers. "We don't have to think about that tonight."
"Two years," she said. "We said two years. And then—"
He turned her to face him. His hands were on her waist. His face was close.
"And then we figure it out," he said. "Together."
She looked at him. His face was tired. His eyes were dark. He was the most familiar thing in her life.
"Together," she said.
---
Ci N found them hours later.
The guests were gone. The garden was empty. The lanterns were burning low. Jay was sitting on the steps, her dress white around her, her shoes off, her hair loose. Keifer was beside her, his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, his hand in hers.
Ci N stood in the doorway. He was holding his phone. He was not recording.
"You're sitting on the steps," he said.
"We're sitting on the steps."
"You've been sitting there all night."
"We've been sitting here all night."
Ci N walked to them. He sat beside his sister. His shoulder touched hers. He was so small. He always would be.
"You're married now," he said.
"We're married now."
He looked at Keifer. At the man who had saved his sister's life. At the man who had made her laugh. At the man who had held her when she was bleeding.
"You hurt her," Ci N said, "and I will kill you."
Keifer looked at him. "I know."
Ci N nodded. He stood up. He walked back to the house. He didn't look back.
Jay leaned against Keifer. Her head was on his shoulder. His arm was around her.
"He threatened to kill you," she said.
"I know."
"He meant it."
"I know."
She smiled. "He's going to be your favorite person."
Keifer kissed her hair. "He already is."
---
The night ended.
The lanterns went out. The house went dark. Jay stood in the doorway of her room—their room now—the white dress hanging on the door, her mother's pearls on the nightstand. Keifer was behind her. His hand was on her waist. His face was close to hers.
"The contract," she said.
He turned her to face him. His hands were on her face. His eyes were steady.
"Forget the contract," he said.
She looked at him. His face was tired. His eyes were dark. He was the only thing she wanted.
"I don't want to leave," she said.
He kissed her. Slow. Deep. A kiss that promised everything.
"Then don't," he said.
She pulled him into the room. The door closed behind them. The dress fell to the floor. The pearls fell to the nightstand. The contract was in a drawer somewhere, twenty-three pages, two years, a promise that was already breaking.
They didn't think about it.
Not tonight.
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END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE