“I am,” I’m quick to reply, knowing that bearing children is the only light at the end of this dark tunnel.
However, in my haste to respond, it takes me a few seconds to realize that the groom has yet to open his mouth. This time it’s Tiernan who is on the receiving end of the priest’s scornful frown.
“Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the laws of Christ and his Church?” the priest irksomely repeats, directing the question solely at Tiernan.
“I am,” he finally concedes.
Sensing that the groom isn’t as keen to be here as his steadfast demeanor might have misled us to believe, the priest dives right into the vows, before the Irish mobster’s cold feet start another Mafia War in front of the parishioners in attendance.
“Do you, Tiernan Francis Kelly, take Rosa Maria Hernandez, to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health? And will you love and honor her for all the days of your life?”
You can hear a pin drop in the church, everyone holding their breath, thinking the mighty mob boss will back out at the last moment.
But I know he won’t.
Even if he’s reluctant to marry me, his honor in keeping his father’s vow to the other families prevents him from turning back now.
“I do.” Unlike his rough hand, his voice comes out smooth like expensive velvet.
“And do you, Rosa Maria Hernandez, take Tiernan Francis Kelly, to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health? And will you love, honor, and obey him for all the days of your life?”
“I do,” I reply, grateful that my voice is just as strong as Tiernan’s was.
“Do you have the rings?” the priest asks, his full attention on the man standing beside me.
Tiernan retrieves a simple gold band from his pocket and pulls my clammy hand in his, before the priest instructs him to say the words that will forever bind us to one another.
“Rosa, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
I swallow dryly when it’s my turn to reciprocate the vow.
“Tiernan, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
It takes everything in me not to stare at my wedding ring and curse the damn thing.
“To make your relationship work will take love,” the priest commences, knowing full well his words of love will fall on deaf ears. “This is the core of your marriage and why you are here. It will take trust to know that in your hearts, you truly want what is best for each other. It will take dedication to stay open to one another and to learn and grow together. It will take faith to go forward together, without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take commitment to hold true to the journey you both have pledged here today.”
I’m not sure if I should laugh or weep at the beautifully spoken sentiment, so instead, I just stand there and count down the seconds until this charade is officially over.
“My dear friends, let us turn to the Lord and pray that he will bless this couple that has united in holy matrimony today. Father, you have made the union of husband and wife so holy as it symbolizes the marriage of two humans through Christ to God. Look with love upon this couple and fill them both with love for each other, both honoring and respecting each other, and always seeing their love as a gift to be treasured. May the commitment which they are making be sacred, not only for today, but for the rest of their lives. We ask this blessing for them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” the priest ends his futile rant by making the sign of the cross on us both. “By the power vested in me by God and the Holy Mother Church, I pronounce you wife and husband. Those who God has joined together, let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride.”
On a somber sigh, I turn to face my newly-wed husband so that he can lift my veil and kiss me to seal this twisted pact with the devil in God’s house. However, I’m at a loss when he takes longer to do it. I’m about to turn around to look at my brother for directions, when Tiernan stops me from moving an inch by grabbing hold of my hands in his. My heart does the unthinkable and flips of its own accord at the tenderness of his grip. I lick my dry lips and patiently wait while he lets go of my hands in favor of pulling back my veil. And as my veil lifts higher, so does my vision of him become clearer.
And what a vision it is.
The man is exquisite.
His hands now look tiny compared to the larger than life persona that stands before me. In all black, from top to bottom, he looks like Hades himself. Unfortunately for me, this Greek tragedy won’t allow me to return home come springtime. I’m to be his captive all year round.
My surprise at how handsome he is must amuse him because there is a little tug on his lips, a smirk at my stunned state. And what a pair of lips this man has. Full and perfectly drawn, like two soft pillows you would like nothing more than to lie your head on. With a strong, masculine square jaw and defined cheekbones, he has all the traits of a living, breathing Irish god. As my gaze continues to travel up his face, my chest tightens when I finally get a good look at his eyes. An unfamiliar warmth begins to trickle down my spine as I become mesmerized by them. One blue eye and one green eye stare back at me with the same unrestrained curiosity, making my cheeks flush crimson.