Celeste;
The large building of the Civil Marriage Bureau looms as Romano pulls into the parking lot with the same ease he uses when arriving at one of his private properties—controlled, unhurried, as if he already owns everything in sight.
The building ahead rises in clean, pale stone, all glass and symmetry, the kind of place that doesn't need a sign to announce its importance. It simply expects to be known.
It's as quiet as a graveyard.
Perhaps because this place has seen more darkness than the cemetery. It deceptively takes the appearance of somewhere people come to fall in love.
But no. It's a place where decisions are made.
My hands curl in my lap, my gaze fixed on the structure lined with tall opaque glass as Romano rounds the car to my door. He opens it, reaching out a hand to me.
Smiling faintly, I don't hesitate to wrap my fingers around his larger ones as I step out, my dress bunched in my other hand.
He shuts the door.
