Page 140 of Too Far

“You’re sure?” Hunter asks for the seventeenth time.

Bless my bestie.

She surprised me by waltzing in beside Decker a few hours ago. We holed up in the bedroom the girls had been sleeping in, and I filled her in between gasps and squeals. We may have also shared a bottle of champagne while going on an online shopping spree courtesy of Decker’s credit card.

Hunter agreed that legally, Decker’s plan should work. Despite only being in her first semester of prelaw, she knows her shit, and I trust her judgment.

As promised, Decker brought a dress for me: layers of gauzy red tulle that are impossibly soft and slightly shimmery. It falls just above the knee and fits tight through the bodice.

A traditional wedding dress, it is not.

Regardless, I love it. Just slipping it on instantly made me feel good. Beautiful. A little less anxious.

According to Hunter, Decker picked it out with minimal input from her. Naturally, that means I won’t be gushing about how gorgeous it is in his presence.

I bat Kylian’s hand away and pull myself up. “I’m sure. Let’s get this over with.”

The entire state is more or less shut down, but Kylian was able to apply for our marriage license online. With a few keystrokes and a confirmation that my social security number was input correctly, he declared us good to go.

Surrounded by my guys, I walk toward the double doors that lead out to the deck.

Decker is already standing outside with the minister.

She’s an older woman, around Mrs. Lansbury’s age. She smiles kindly at all of us, clearly unaware of who the guys are or what our dynamic entails. I’m sure that was intentional.

We’ve agreed to no photos of the ceremony. We can’t risk news leaking before we’re ready to make our announcement.

Still, I rest my head on Hunter’s shoulder and smile when she pulls me in close and holds up her phone to snap a picture.

“I know this probably isn’t what you dreamed about when you were little,” she starts, taking in the guys as they line up along the railing of the deck that overlooks the snowcapped mountains. “But it’s gorgeous out here.”

My nose itches, signaling that I’m in danger of tearing up. She’s not wrong. But it doesn’t change the reality that I’d rather be committing myself to any of the other three men standing in front of me right now, and we all know it.

“Ready when you are,” the minister announces.

Just like that, we all fall into place.

I stand toe to toe with Decker, like I’ve done so many times before. His onyx eyes bore into me: searching, longing, yearning for some semblance of a connection.

I give him nothing.

I can’t.

I’m too raw, too hurt, too banged up from the breakup, to muster up anything more than civility.

Even that takes effort, as proven when it’s time to say our vows.

He’s a good man. I loved him. I still love him. In his own twisted way, Decker loves me, too. Nevertheless, I’ve been burned too many times by his particular brand of love to approach this marriage with anything but skepticism and wariness.

When the minister turns it over to me, I pull out my phone and read the promises I feverishly typed out during lunch.

“I, Josephine Meyer, take you, Decker Crusade, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I’ll be loyal for as long as deemed necessary.”

Hunter snorts behind me.

Then, looking past Decker, I swallow down the emotion clogging my throat and continue. “And I will love this family with all that I am, for as long as I live.”

Kendrick is the first to mouth, “I love you,” quickly followed by Locke. Kylian watches me with a predatory, protective glint in his eye, like he’s about to pull a stunt and put a stop to all of this.