“And now, by the power invested in me,” said the preacher, “I declare you man and wife. Johnny, you may kiss your bride.”
Never in my life had I heard sweeter words. And never in my life had I seen a sweeter sight than the face of my new wife, Melanie, as she turned to me, eyes radiant and shining, ruby lips parted in a smile and ready for our first kiss as a married couple.
At least until a voice rang out from the back of the church:
“She’ll be no bride of yours, Johnny!”
I turned just in time to see her husband, alive and well, burst through the chapel doors, a gold-plated pistol in his hand.
When the shot rang out, I knew there was only one thing I could do—only one way I could make things right. I threw myself in front of the bullet he meant for Melanie.