He brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses my finger with the ring. “Their love back then was untainted and pure. The day he gave it to her they had their whole lives ahead of them, and that’s what this ring symbolizes. We have our whole lives ahead of us, Angel.”
Tears leak from the corners of my lids as I absorb what he’s trying to tell me. I’m going to get through this. No, we’re going to get through this, and we’re going to have our entire lives to love each other and be together.
“I don’t have a ring for you,” I choke out.
“Actually, you do,” he says, pulling another ring out of his pocket like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat. “My dad’s ring.” He hands it to me, and I look down at it. It’s a simple silver—or maybe titanium—band, and inside is an inscription: un alma.
“It means one soul,” Ethan explains. “Yours has one as well.”
I take it off and say the words out loud, “Dos corazónes.”
“Two hearts.”
“Two hearts. One soul.”
Ethan nods. “I was shocked to learn my dad kept his ring, after all these years. Before we left, he pulled me aside and gave it to me since he also got a new one in the Dominican Republic.”
“They’re beautiful,” I tell him. “And I would be honored to wear their rings. They might’ve been apart for years, but they made their way back to each other, and I’d like to think no matter what happens in the future, I’ll always make my way back to you.”
“I’m never leaving your side, baby.” Ethan steps forward and kisses me, causing the officiant and his wife to laugh. Once we pull apart, we finish saying our vows and then once again Ethan kisses me, this time officially as my husband.
“Nevaeh, baby, you here with me?” Ethan asks, bringing me back to the present. We’ve just entered the hotel room Ethan’s booked for us and are standing in the bedroom. Of course Ethan insisted on the honeymoon suite, explaining we had to have the full experience. The largest bed I’ve ever seen in my life is in the center of the room, and covering the comforter are bright red rose petals. Faux candles are lit and placed on the nightstands and dressers, and adjacent to the bed is a gorgeous electric fireplace.
“I’m right here,” I tell him, softly kissing him. He’s dressed in a dashing black suit, and I’m wearing a pretty white dress Raquel lent me for the occasion.
Running his fingers along the straps of the dress, Ethan pulls them down, exposing my white, satin, lacy bra. His eyes light up knowingly. It’s the same set he found in my drawer and brought with him when he packed my stuff.
My dress drops to the floor, and Ethan lifts each of my feet, removing the dress and setting it on the back of the chair. Then he takes a step back, taking me completely in. To go with my white, satin, lacy bra, I’m wearing a matching thong. I’m also still standing in my white heels.
“You look so damn stunning,” Ethan murmurs. “My very own angel.”
He steps forward, like a man on a mission, about to devour me whole, but I shake my head, stopping him in his place. “You’ve stripped me down to my underwear, so it’s only fair I get to do the same.”
He laughs softly. “Have at it.” He spreads his arms out wide, and I step forward to undo his tie. I take my time removing it, then unbuttoning his shirt. I know Ethan is getting impatient, but now he knows a little bit how I felt every time I wanted to be with him and he refused. Although, I shouldn’t be too hard on him. Knowing I’m going to make love to my husband makes me extremely happy we waited. He was right to refuse me… But I won’t admit that to him, at least not yet.
After I remove his jacket, shoes, and socks, Ethan’s had enough, and with a growl, he lifts me into his arms and carries me to our bed, laying me in the center. He takes a moment to admire me, before he removes his pants, leaving himself in only his black boxer-briefs.
Climbing onto the bed, he hovers over me and gives me a passionate kiss. “I love you. Thank you for marrying me,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I love you,” I whisper back, as he trails kisses along my jawline and then down my throat. He peppers kisses along my bra line, and then dips both of the cups, revealing my breasts.
“So fucking perfect,” he says, before taking one nipple into his mouth. We’ve been together several times in the last couple months, done almost everything besides actually having sex, but something about him being my husband makes everything he’s doing feel more intense, more meaningful. He knows every inch of my body, probably better than I do, but it’s as if he’s getting to know it all over again, this time with me as his wife.