My Vow To You

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. I swear, my heart could burst from anticipation and excitement. Here I am, on my dream honeymoon, with the love of my life, who is now my husband.

I never, ever thought I’d be here. Beyond my wildest dreams, this is. So many in the past have promised this life and more to me, only to bring trauma, lies, betrayal, and enough tears to flood all the world’s oceans. But not him.

“Here we are, darling!”, he announces dramatically, gesturing to the cabin Vanna White style as he parks the car. “Our home for the honeymoon. Now, let’s say we unpack and check the cabin out, huh?”

A cheeky grin appears on my husband’s face as he unbuckles and comes over to my side of the car. He leans over, unbuckles my seatbelt, and scoops me up from my seat to carry me over the threshold of the cabin door.

“No, no, let me go!”, I insist jokingly, laughing and pretending to squirm free of his grip. We’re still in our wedding garb, fresh from the reception, so I dare not squirm too much and risk tearing the delicate lace of my gown.

“Let you go?”, he asks as he heads over to the tufted, over-stuffed brown sofa. “Oh, okay, I’ll let you go.”

“Wha - no!”

Before I can resist more, he’s tossed me on the couch, where I land with a soft thud. We’re both laughing like kids as he jumps to land on top of me, showering my face with kisses. God, this is what I’ve always dreamed of.

“Alright, alright, I guess I’ll quit torturing you,” he says with a chuckle as he frees me from the sofa. “You wanna go explore, get settled in while I unload the car?”

“Sure,” I answer, taking his face in my hands and kissing his forehead before letting him go. “Sounds great, my love.”

I’m standing on the brown bearskin rug watching him head back to the car for our things, as I take in the sights of our honeymoon lodging. It's just the winter wonderland I dreamed of to celebrate our December nuptials.

In the living room, a grand fireplace, already aflame thanks to the hosts who own the cabin, is festooned with candles and garlands of pine, holly, cinnamon sticks, and dried orange slices. A towering Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, with large bins of ornaments and lights for us to decorate its branches with. On the dining table, a plate of cookies, a cheese tray, and a bottle of spiced wine with glasses just waiting to be filled and filled again. I take a deep breath, inhaling pine and orange and sweet, cinnamon smoke. Soft, fat flakes of snow are falling outside, caught in my husband's dark curls and long eyelashes as he comes inside, arms full of luggage. It's everything I ever wanted and more.

Suddenly, my knees suddenly give way and I collapse to the rug, quiet sobs shaking my shoulders and ruining my meticulously done makeup. Voices from the past have taken to swarm in my mind, and a deep, piercing ache has turned my heart to lead and curled me in on myself with its excruciating weight.

She's just a friend, nothing to worry about. Why are you so paranoid?

Yeah, another late night at work. What's the big deal, don't you trust me? You don't actually think I'm screwing around, do you? Might as well, then, since you're already crazy enough to think I am. Whatever, I'm going out for a drink...

What's wrong with you? You don't cook anymore, you don't clean anymore, you don't sleep with me anymore. What good is it to keep you around then, if you're clearly not interested in being with me anymore?

I'm sorry, I was going to tell you, I swear. You've just been working every day, there's been no time. What, you're gonna blame me? Yeah, go for it, it's all my fault. Always the bad guy, right? You stopped taking care of me. You stopped taking care of yourself. And that's my fault? Okay, whatever. Have a nice life, and get the hell out of mine...

"Hey, what's going on? Honey, what happened? Are you okay?"

Strong arms wrap around me, and through a shuddering gasp I smell cologne. My husband's cologne. God, what am I doing here? I don't deserve this. I never have. I don't deserve this. I never have.

"I don't deserve this. I never have."

"What? Did something happen, my love? What's going on?" My husband takes me in his arms and picks me up to once again bring me to the sofa. This time, though, I cherish every second of being in his arms. He's stroking my freshly styled hair, letting me shake and cry and fight off the voices.

"You're alright, darling, I promise you," my husband assures me, tightening his grip on me until he's all I can feel. He speaks to me, reminding me of his love and loyalty over and over until he's all I can hear. With every stroke of my hair and soft kiss on my head, he's banishing the voices. He's reminding me of my worth, my importance to him, how endlessly he cares for me and how willing he is to always be there for me.

"You do deserve this, my love," he coos as he picks me up from the sofa. He brings us to the bathroom, where a massive claw-footed bathtub and an array of sweet-smelling soaps, candles, and flower petals sit at our disposal. He turns on the faucet, filling the tub with rose petals and bubbles. He plants a kiss on each one of the thousands of freckles on my shoulders as he unbuttons my dress and eases me in to the tub. Bobby pins are removed from my hair, smeared makeup cleansed gently from my face, as he repeats his vows to me.

"You deserve nothing less than all I have to give. My life, my love, my time. My loyalty, my protection, my shoulder to cry on. My ears to listen, my arms to hold you.

"All I am, all I will be, all I have, I give to you."