Tyrone's usually steady legs struggled to hold him up. They both slowed to a near stop before Pete and the priest.
The world narrowed to the sound of his own heartbeat and the feel of her arm locked tight through his. He took a step back and let go to face her. Sweat trickled down his back beneath the tailored suit jacket.
He was only just keeping his d**k at bay. What the f**k was wrong with him?
He reached for her veil with shaking fingers, lifting it and peeling it back. Her eyes were wide and bright, shimmering with something between tears and rebellion.
Where the f**k was the good girl he raised?
A single bead of sweat rolled down his brow as he looked past her to Annie in the front pew, dabbing at her eyes.
His almost b***r died as he looked upon his wife, completely unaw
