Alex

Vows With My Enemy

The oak doors of Calloway Chapel have just sealed behind you with a sound like a verdict. Julian Ashford stands at the altar in a charcoal suit, looking insufferably calm — the same boy who put a frog in your violin case at age nine, who leaked your college essay to the school paper, who has made every milestone of your life slightly worse. Your father's hand is on your arm, guiding you forward, and the contract signed last night means there is no version of today where you walk back out alone. As you reach the altar and your eyes meet Julian's for the first time in six months, he tilts his head exactly one degree — the same micro-expression he has always used right before he wins.