(THIRD BOOK in the Golden Girl Series)
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"Till death do you part?" The priest finishes off with.
"I do," I answer - knowing how ready I am to die with this man.
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You've been on Amber Marigold's journey since she arrived at Tygerwell. Now join...
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A/N: TRAILER FOR THE WEDDING IS ABOVE. It took me a while to do so please vote if you can :)
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Only two steps past the glass door and I cannot deal with the stress. I grip Owen's hand tightly as he leads me down the curving path of marigold flowers. I pray to whatever gods are listening that I don't A) trip, B) tear my dress or C) get hit by pigeon poop.
C has and always will be a fear of mine for a while now.
Deciding that C is out of my hands and B is most likely inevitable at this point, I kick off my wedding shoes to, at the very least, avoid A. Nessa will murder me, but I'd rather die after all this is over than embarrass myself. God knows I'm good at doing that.
"Something wrong with the shoes?" Owen asks.
"Nope, just want to feel the flowers beneath my feet," I lie.
"You're wearing the toe ring?" Owen asks as he glances at my feet with amusement.
"Of course. It was a gift from a very dear friend of mine," I smile.
The further down the path I walk, the louder the music becomes. It's a slower piano rendition of the traditional wedding march. I'd have to thank the pianist for his work... This really is a magnificent piece. Blake has outdone himself. I really wish I can tell him how much I appreciate it.
With no need to be scared of the steps I take anymore, I let the moment carry me. Bright sun welcomes me warmly - making the gold treads in my dress blink in greeting. With every second step I take, my right leg gets exposed by the slit in my tiered wedding dress. I can't really breathe, but that might not entirely be the corset's fault. I can feel my hand becoming clammy with sweat and I really hope Owen doesn't mind. We make our way down the path that's twisting and turning around rose hedges too high to see past. The garden statues all seem to stare at me as I walk by. A sculptured little boy by a birdbath looks up curiously, a half naked goddess wishes me luck, an angel opens his arms in welcome. I can't help but linger on the angel as I walk past. Only once I round a corner, passing two large vases, can I finally break my stare.
And here we are.
I look ahead in absolute fear at the straight path leading to the wood and copper dais.
