The Secetary’s Secret Marriage
I could hear his heartbeat—it was fast, restless, yet steady when I laid my head against him.
“I am yours,” I whispered again, this time against his chest, as if sealing the vow not just to him but to myself.
His hold tightened, and he let out a deep breath, almost like a sigh of relief. “Good,” he murmured into my hair. “Because I am never letting you go. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.”
In that small, quiet room, away from the noise, away from the chaos, it felt like our true wedding was happening, not with beads and music and dancing, but with raw hearts and broken voices, binding together with nothing but truth.
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