Mirabel Collins a 21 year old girl who lost her mother at a tender age has to live with her father who was busy chasing after lifeless notes and coins and didn t have time to take care of his daughter and a step mother who treat her like trash beca...
After a few minute aunt Maya pushed everyone out saying that she wanted to have a mother to daughter talk only that she just reminded me of everything she has said before but seriously I should start listening to the endings of her speech.
Uncle Williams did walk me over to the groom and left after telling him to take care of me and keep me safe.
And you know what my husband did, he blinked and slightly nodded. And I'm like
Wow, what an assurance, I feel totally safe.
"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessings upon the bride and the groom that in his kindness he may favor with his help those.."
Then the priest started talking. I was listening at first—really, I was—but around the middle, my attention drifted to the demigod standing in front of me.
His black vest hugged his frame perfectly, the crisp white shirt beneath it slightly unbuttoned at the top, with his tie hanging loosely like he had given up halfway through fixing it. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms—veins prominent, hands resting casually at his sides.
How could someone be so effortlessly flawless?
In my next life, I will become a police officer just to arrest people who are too beautiful. And that, my people, is what we call justice.
Some of us put in actual effort—painful shoes, tight dresses, hours of makeup—just for a decent reaction. And then there's Xavier, standing there looking like an expensive sin, doing absolutely nothing except breathing, and still making people swoon.
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Pure injustice
he only time Xavier spared me a glance was when Uncle Williams walked me over. His eyes raked over me, head to toe, once, and then he looked away.
Sir.
Do you mind reacting like a normal human being?
Maybe my slit was too high? Should I have worn something more conservative? Maybe I should've gone with—
Shut up, Mira. There is no slit on your dress.
Meanwhile, the priest was still talking.
"...in health, peace, joy, and happiness till death do you part."
"Huh?" I blinked.
Why was everyone staring at me?
The priest looked like he was this close to losing his job over my stupidity. His sigh could've fueled an entire wind turbine as he repeated himself, enunciating each word like he was talking to a particularly slow toddler.
