《His》Chapter Thirty-One
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"Whatever is worrying you right now, forget about it. Take a deep breath, stay positive and know that things will get better."
~~
Amaya
The past few days flew by and before I knew it, it was the morning of my wedding. This morning I woke with a million butterflies in my stomach and a migraine from hell because of nerves.
I've never in my life been as nervous as I am today, but I guess anyone would be this nervous on their wedding day.
"You look beautiful." My grandma tells me after she pinned my veil to the back of my perfectly curled hair.
I look at her through the mirror and smile. "Thank you."
"That veil is hideous."
I hear my mom say from behind me. I turn around and see her pulling another veil out of a bag. She walks over to me.
"You're wearing this one." She says as she holds it up in front of me.
"No, I'm not." I tell her. I cross my arms. "I'm wearing this one."
"No you're not."
Before I could say anything else, she walks around me and pulls the veil along with the hairpin out of my hair. I wince and grab the back of my head. I turn around and face her once again to see her with a smile on her face.
"What the hell, mom?" I asked her still holding the back of my stinging head.
She laughs. "I told you no and you didn't listen"
Is she for real right now?
Just because I told her I was wearing the veil I already had on, which is the one my grandma wore when she got married, she thinks she can pull it out of my hair and mess my hair up?
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"Just because I told you no, doesn't mean you have to pull the veil out of my hair." I yell. "I'm still not wearing the veil you want me to wear."
"Oh but you are." She tells me.
I turn my body away from her when she goes to put it in my hair. "I said no, mom, this is my wedding day and I get to wear what I want to."
"Stop being a little dramatic bitch and wear it." She spats.
I'm not dealing with this today.
"Get out." I tell her calmly. "Get the fuck out. Now!"
She crosses her arms over her chest. "You can't tell me to get out."
I look at her with my eyebrow raised. "Oh really? Do I need to have Kane come tell you to leave?"
Her face goes pale and she drops the veil in her hand. She walks over and grabs her purse off the couch and walks out of the room slamming the door behind her.
I guess she's afraid of Kane.
I turn around and see Angie, Mary, Grandma, my cousin Emily, Kane's sister, and Lukas all smiling at me.
Grandma walks to me and grabs my hand. "Let's fix that hair and get you married."
~~
My breathing gets heavier and I can feel butterflies in my stomach as I stare at the door leading outside to the garden where the ceremony is being held.
"You ready, sweetheart?" My father asked me.
I smile at him and slip my arm through his. "Ready as I'll ever be."
He kisses my cheek then nods his head to the guys standing at the doors waiting for the cue to open them.
I let out a breath when they open the doors. As if on cue, I see everyone stand up from their seats and turn their heads to look at us.
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I look down at the ground as my father and I start slowly walking down the aisle when a soft song begins to play.
When we get halfway down the aisle, I finally look up and my eyes meet Kane. He's standing next to the Priest in a navy blue suit with his arms crossed in front of him.
He smiles widely at me.
At least I'm going to have a good looking husband because I have to admit, Kane is HOT.
I shake my head to get rid of the thought as I think that.
Now is not the time to think about how hot he is. I'm literally walking down the aisle, what if I tripped and fell?
Oh my gosh that would be so embarrassing.
Don't even lie, you'd laugh if you did.
A voice inside my head says.
I mentally shrug my shoulders.
You're right. I probably would laugh.
I break out of my thoughts to see my father and I are now standing in front of Kane.
I smile at him.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman together in holy matrimony. Who gives this bride to this groom?"
"Her mother and I." My father says. He kisses my cheek then takes my hand and hands it to Kane.
Kane takes it and pulls me in front of him. I turn around and hand my bouquet of flowers to my maid of honor who is Lukas.
After I texted Zoe about meeting up for lunch, I never heard back from her so I ended up making Lukas my maid of honor instead.
I feel like if I wouldn't have made Lukas it, he would've had my head considering he is my best friend and Zoe isn't.
"Rings?" The Priest asked.
I turn around and Lukas hands me the silver ring that will go on Kane's finger. I turn back around at the same time Kane does and he smiles at me.
"Mr Carter, repeat after me. I Kane Carter take you Amaya Ross for my wedded wife, to love and cherish, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. From this day forward."
Kane repeats after him and slides the ring on my finger then I do the same after I repeat my vows.
A few minutes go by with the Priest saying a few words before he closes his Bible and smiles at us.
"Mr Carter, you may kiss your bride."
Wait what? We didn't even say "I do!"
Before I can say anything Kane grabs my face and his lips land on mine in a soft kiss. He pulls away and rest his forehead against mine with a smirk on his face.
"You're mine now."
I smile softly at him.
I was officially, His.
~~
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Raine
Round in circles, and right back to square one. They were, to each other, but a memory lost of remembrance. The mind forgot... will the heart remember? • very slow updates • slow plot development • Note that this work is also hosted on WP by me. This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. All Rights Reserved © 2018 by Wynne W.Y.W. All rights reserved. No part of this story can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express permission in writing.
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