Cam’s voice carried over the other noises in the pub. “To Thea and Damian. Fucking finally.” “Cameron Edward Ahern. What kind of language is that to use on your sister’s wedding day?” Damian and I got married. He slipped my grandmother’s ring onto my finger and promised to smile more, to laugh more.
He promised to have my back when the zombie apocalypse came and would keep me stocked in coffee and sugar. And he promised to love me in this life and the next. I promised to not be reckless, to attempt to control my temper. I promised to never lose my sense of humor and to keep us stocked in cookies. And I promised to love him in this life and the next.
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