“Do you Cruz Henry Hawley take Presley Marie Brookmore to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
The preachers words droned on as Presley sobbed through the vows playing on the screen in front of her. It had been eighteen months since she and Cruz married in a huge ceremony with nearly two hundred people in attendance. Cruz swore he didn’t know ninety percent of their guests, but she didn’t care. She wore the big princess gown, a tiara encrusted with real diamonds and felt like queen for the day.
She looked to the eight-month-old baby in her arms staring at her while she nursed, and the blue eyes were fixed on her face. She cuddled the baby, sniffing, “do you see, little Genevieve how much Daddy loved Mommy on our wedding day? He was even crying. Look, there are tears on his face as he promises
