“Sir, what objections do you have to this marriage?” the minister asks, looking confused, his gaze bouncing between the three of us. Neither Patrick nor I turn to acknowledge him. Instead, we both stay locked onto the unexpected guest. I don’t know him, and it doesn’t appear that Patrick does, either. So, who is he?
“You can’t marry him,” he says, his voice deep and confident, his regard intense. I don’t understand what is happening, even though I feel like I should.
I don’t respond—I don’t know how to. All I can do is return his stare.
“I love you. Marry me.”
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