Page 95 of Beautiful Lies

Each step feels like walking into someone else’s story.

But, it’s mine.

When I reach Knox, our eyes lock, and I remember how he looked at me the last time I saw him. It was with fascination for my painting andme.

The same fascination lit up his eyes the night before when he devoured my resolve.

What does he think of me now?

That’s the million-dollar question I’ll never have an answer to.

He takes my hand, his fingers warm and steady against my trembling ones, and my mind goes straight back to the way he feasted on my body.

A flush of heat spreads through me like fire, warming me everywhere. I have to fight to control my wandering mind. Thinking about that night now is the worst thing possible.

Nothing is more of a reminder of what Knox and I aren’t than this moment.

He leads me to where the priest waits. The elderly man smiles at us with genuine warmth, his weathered face creased with the joy of someone who's witnessed countless love stories unfold before this altar.

But there's something in his eyes when he looks at me. A flicker of concern, or perhaps recognition of the shadows I carry. I won’t get the answer to that, either.

"Dearly beloved," the priest’s voice resonates through the hall, "we gather today in the presence of God and these witnesses to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Marriage is not to be entered into lightly, but with reverence, honor, and commitment." His gaze settles on me for a moment too long. "It is a covenant that binds two souls together, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do them part."

The words hang heavy in the air, weighted with meaning I'm not sure I'm ready to bear.

"Do you, Knox Alexander Vale, take Isla Elizabeth Monroe to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest's voice cuts through my spiral of doubt with ancient words that should feel sacred but sound hollow in the cavernous space.

“I do.” Knox sounds sure. Like there’s no question in his choice.

The priest shifts his gaze to me. "Do you, Isla Elizabeth Monroe, take Knox Alexander Vale to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

“I do.” I try to sound as confident as Knox, but a mixture of emotion knots my stomach, flooding my insides with barbed wire. I don’t know what grips me most. Maybe it’s nerves. Or maybe it’s something else. Like that fire Knox spoke of. I didn’t forget that.

The priest continues the ceremony, and we exchange rings.

Before I know it, we’re being announced as husband and wife, and I become Isla Vale.

When Knox presses his lips to mine to kiss me, the truth settles in my soul.

We just got married. It’s official now.

Knox Vale is my husband, and I am his wife.

For one breathless moment, time slows while I let that information and my new normal sink in. Then time speeds, the seconds catching up with a gut-wrenching blast, when Knox pulls out of the kiss and guides me to face our cheering guests as the newest Mr. and Mrs. Vale.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Isla

Knox takesmy hand and leads me back down the aisle, our fingers intertwined.

Flashbulbs explode, applause swells, and we paste on those perfect, practiced smiles.

I have that sensation of walking through someone else’s life again, one I can’t seem to wake up from. But as we proceed down the aisle, I realize I have to accept that this is my life now. There is no waking up.

We reach outside, stepping into blinding sunlight and a thousand reflections glinting off stone and glass. Knox guides me to the top of the stairs, where the wedding photographer waves for us to stop.

We do, and Knox rests a hand at the small of my back. Though his touch is light, his commanding essence never falters.