Married My Soul Mate
The ocean breeze lifted my veil, and my lips curved into a smile I couldn't hide.
Right then, I felt like the happiest bride in the world.
The priest asked, "Cynthia Palmer, do you take Arnold Greenwood to be your husband?"
But someone's voice cut through the moment. "I object to this marriage!"
It was rough, hoarse, and broken.
Everyone turned to look.
It was Bailey.
He stumbled toward us in a wrinkled suit, his face unshaven, reeking of alcohol.
He looked thinner, older—nothing like the confident man he used to be.
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