I was emotionally exhausted, leaving a piece of my heart behind the barbed wire fence of Otisville Penitentiary when I kissed my father’s cheek one final time and headed out of the prison with my new husband.
I never saw that one coming.
On the car ride home, Mikey explained how he had Anthony pull a few strings to make sure a priest was present at our visit. I didn’t ask questions, too grateful to care the lengths my brother-in-law went to help Mikey out.
I was Mrs. Michael Valente.
So what if it wasn’t legal, Mikey and I were husband and wife. It was etched in our hearts and with God as our witness and my father’s blessing. It didn’t get any more official than that for me.
Mikey pulled our car into the driveway and I stared out the window at our house. Maybe we’d raise a family, maybe we’d get a dog, who knows? But I knew for sure, that contained within the walls of our home would be tons of love.
“You ready to go home, Mrs. Valente?” Mike asks, smiling as he turns off the car and stares at me.
I avert my eyes away from the house he grew up in, the house he worked so hard to make ours since we first moved in. I wasn’t there for him when his mom passed, I tried to be there for him when his dad was murdered but we were young. I hope we never know loss for the next fifty years but if we should I will be there for him just the way he has been there for me. I will be the pillar he holds onto when the storm rages on and when it finally passes when the clouds part and the sun breaks through, I will be the reason he smiles.
I don’t know what I did to deserve him, I’ll never understand it but I’ll always thank those who gave us life and left us behind, sure they had a hand in the magic that was me and Mikey.
I grinned widely at him, tired of crying and wanting so desperately to give him back the pieces of me I lost through the storm that’s been raging around me.
“Mrs. Valente,” I squeal, grabbing his hand over the console. “You’re my husband! How fucking crazy is that?”
He chuckles, running his free hand through his hair as he leans against the seat and smiles lazily at me.
You’re stuck with me now, Princess,” he says, his eyes searing me as he draws out a heavy sigh and waves his hand down the length of him. “All this is yours.”
My teeth pierce my lower lip as I try to hide my mischievous grin and let my eyes travel the length of him.
“Never forget who you belong to, Mikey,” I joke as he lifts my left hand to his lips and brushes them softly across my knuckles. The pad of his thumb twirls my engagement ring around my finger as he averts his eyes back to mine.
“We need to get wedding bands,” he declares. “And a marriage certificate.”
“Yes, but for no other reason than I will need it to change my name legally,” I agree, pausing for a moment. “I’m your wife, Mikey,” I say, taking our joined hands and resting them over my chest. “We’re married in here, where it counts most.”
“That means tonight is our wedding night,” he says suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.
“It does, and it also means today’s date will be our anniversary, you know for the future,” I wink.
He laughs as he leans over the console, reaching for me with his free hand and guiding my lips to his.
“What do you say we make this union official, Princess?”
He murmurs the question as his lips glided glide over mine teasingly.
“The last first time we have sex as a married couple will be the first of many last first times,” I say thoughtfully.
“What’re we waiting for?”
“For you to carry me over the threshold,” I say pointedly.
His mouth instantly leaves mine and in a flash he is out of the car, opening my door and pulling me out. He takes my hand and leads me up the front stoop, climbing two stairs at a time until he stands in front of the door.
Mikey crooks his finger, beckoning me to him to close the few steps separating us, capturing me in his arms by the second step.
“Shit, my keys are in my pocket,” he mutters.
I snake my hand around his frame and pull the key ring from the back pocket of his jeans.
Look at that.
We already aced the teamwork shit.
He walks us closer to the door and bends his knees so I can fit the key into the lock and unlock the door. His massive boot kicks the door open and we both glance inside our home before our eyes find one another’s.
“Ready to make this the last first time you’re carried over the threshold?”
“So ready,” I say, tightening my arms around his neck.
He grins, taking one large step over the threshold before gruffly whispering into my ear.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Valente,” he croons.