It was her only thought.
She breathed in once. Twice. The third breath caught in her throat.
There he stood, magnificent, dangerous. His dark eyes were trained on her and her alone. She could read his thoughts as if they were broadcast over the loudspeaker.
You’re mine, he said with his gaze. Mine, from here to eternity.
She stepped forward, brought her back foot even with her front, paused. She took another step. Slowly, slowly, she surrendered.
He smiled then. His smile settled her pulse. He took her hand.
The preacher cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here…”
The End first appeared in the Spring 2010 Edition of Boston Literary Magazine.