Chapter 10 - The Real Vows
Six months after the nightmare at St. Jude’s Chapel, Ethan and I stood on a quiet, sun-drenched cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
There were no three hundred socialite guests. There were no news cameras, no heavy lace gowns, and no pearl-embroidered microphones. Just a small circle of close friends, my medical team, and an old justice of the peace standing on the green grass.
I wore a simple, elegant silk dress. My hair was barely an inch long, curly and dark, framed by a small crown of wild white daisies.
Ethan held both of my hands, looking directly into my eyes as the waves crashed against the rocks below.
"Clara," Ethan began, his voice thick with emotion. "Six months ago, I tried to promise you forever, and the world tried to interrupt us. But today, with no secrets, no shadows, and no pain between us, I say it again. I choose you—in sickness, in health, in victory, and in peace."
I stepped closer to him, reaching up to rest my hand against his cheek.
"Ethan," I said, my voice steady and filled with joy. "When my hair was gone, when my body was broken, you stood by me. You showed me that real love doesn't run from the dark—it brings the light. Today, I don't give you a fragile bride. I give you my whole heart, forever."
The justice of the peace smiled warmly. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Ethan leaned down and kissed me deep and slow, as our friends erupted into cheers.
When he pulled back, he smiled, softly running his fingers through my short, dark curls.
"Ready for our real life to begin, Mrs. Vance-Blackwood?" he asked.
May you like
I held his hand tightly, looking out at the endless blue horizon where the sun was shining brightly over the clear, calm sea.
"I’ve never been more ready," I replied.
