003 *Bailey*

He’s making me nervous.

And I hate how aware I am of him — his breathing, the rigid line of his shoulders, the twitch in his brow every time he looks at me.

He holds my hands per the minister’s instructions, his hold so tight it's almost like he's trying to squeeze the truth out of me.

It doesn't hurt, though; if anything, it just makes my skin buzz with awareness of the fact that I am just a foot away from Romeo Lancaster.

The minister continues, oblivious to the tension between us. Soon, it's time to exchange vows, and Romeo is asked to go first.

Nodding, he clears his throat, his lips tilting upward slightly as his face takes on a thoughtful expression before he starts to speak.

“Hartfield,” he begins, his voice even. “It’s no secret that I didn’t expect to stand at an altar again.”

He pauses, drawing in a controlled breath.

“But over the past year, I've come to respect our… friendship and your devotion towards the people you love.”

His gaze locks on mine. My heart leaps briefly.

“Today, I vow to protect you. Provide for you. Stand with you. Not because love is about pounding hearts, or butterflies, or sweaty palms… but because commitment is a choice.”

His jaw tightens.

“And I choose you.”

His voice dips at the end, almost begrudged. He clears his throat sharply just as the room breaks into applause.

Soon, everywhere is quiet, and the minister looks to me, expecting me to go next. I blink, unsure how to top that.

“Lancaster," I begin with his last name as he did mine, and his brows twitch, like he hadn't expected me to do that. I force a smile.

“Um..you’re talented, disciplined, determined, maybe even steady, stable.” I swallow.

“And people don’t understand how important steadiness is… until their whole world falls apart and they’re left trying to breathe through a broken heart.”

My voice falters. “I just… I think you’re different than people think you are.”

His face is blank as he stares at me, but I can see the question swirling in his eyes.

I'm totally messing this up, aren't I?

“Well, uh, I just…I never thought I’d be standing here. Not in a million years. But… here I am. And I don't think there's anywhere better I’d rather be. Not at this moment, anyway.” I finish, exhaling loudly like I'd been running a marathon.

No one claps for me, not that I was expecting it, but it sucks to hear a few snide comments consisting of ‘sounds fake’, ‘lame’ and ‘you can do better than that’ thrown at me. I think I even hear someone say ‘pompous bitch’ which is the complete opposite of who I am.

“Do you, Mr Lancaster, take Miss Hartfield, as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?" The minister says after the rings were given to us.

"I do,” Romeo responds immediately, sliding the ring onto my finger.

His finger lightly grazes my knuckle, and heat coils low in my stomach.

The minister turns to me.

“Do you, Miss Hartfield, take Mr Lancaster, as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

My mouth opens, but no words come out.

"Hartfield,” Romeo prompts with a raised brow.

"I…" I mutter, unable to finish the words, suddenly afraid this might be real.

I glance at the ring on my finger; it fits perfectly. Like this was always meant to happen.

“Hartfield, come on, we don't have all day," Romeo says, the veins in his neck pulse, betraying the calm in his voice.

“Maybe I should give you guys a minute." The minister says.

“No." Romeo dismisses without even looking at him. “She's just messing with me.” Lowering his voice, he continues. “Listen, you probably like to mess around, but now's not a good time, alright? This day has already dragged on longer than necessary as it is, and there are still many things to do in it.”

Holding my gaze, he studies me for a few seconds with narrowed eyes, his hand sliding from my wrist to my jaw. Not gently or cruelly either. Just firm enough to remind me that I am not in control in this moment. I shiver.

“Like for one,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my face, I freeze,

“when I kiss you after you say I do.”

The silence stretches, heavy with expectation. He starts to pull away, as if giving up; panic builds in my chest.

“I do." The words quickly leave me, and I grab his hand to slide the ring on his finger. He lowers his head without warning, just as the minister announces us as husband and wife.

My throat goes dry, and my fists clench around his jacket. His breath touches my face, and my eyes flutter close, my breath hitching as his lips brush against mine carefully, almost testing.

He angles his head to go deeper—

“ROMEO LANCASTER, DON'T YOU DARE KISS THAT FUCKING IMPOSTOR!”