By Rumer Haven
One wedding. Six participants. Be they sitting in the pews or standing at the altar, bearing witness in person or only in spirit, each of them knows something about the unsmiling bride.
Go ahead—offer them a sixpence for their thoughts, and they’ll make you these vows:
One would love to declare this woman his “awfully wedded wife.” Verbatim.
One fears what she already has and will have to hold—if not from this day forward, then soon.
One takes her to be richer, not poorer—and for that reason wants to scrub the toilet with her toothbrush.
One is better for what she told him this morning, worse for betraying a friend to get to this point.
One worries whether today finds her in sickness or in health.
And only one already knows—with certainty—that not even in death will they part.
Whether they speak now or forever hold their peace, they all give the bride a little something she didn’t register for.
Imprint: Vagabondage Romance
BISAC: Fiction / Contemporary Women
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