“He’s marrying me!” Vanessa screamed, her poise disintegrating. “Security! Get her out!”
Two burly men in suits started moving from the side entrances. The priest cleared his throat into the microphone, the sound booming through the tense chapel.
“Please,” the priest stammered. “Let us… let us continue. This is a house of God.”
Marcus glared at Clara one last time. “Sit down and shut up, or so help me, I will finish what that car accident started.”
He turned and guided a sobbing Vanessa back to the altar. The organist played a clumsy chord to cover the noise. Clara sat down. She folded her hands in her lap.
The priest, sweating profusely, looked at the couple. “We are gathered here today…” he began, rushing the words. He skipped the preamble. He wanted this over.
“If anyone knows just cause why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your…”
“I do,” a voice cut through the air.
It wasn’t Clara.
It was Liam.
He stepped away from Vanessa as if she were radioactive. He turned to face the congregation. He adjusted his cufflinks, his face transforming from stoic resignation to cold, hard resolve.
“I do,” Liam repeated, his voice amplified by the lapel mic, echoing off the stone walls. “Actually, I have several.”
