While I drive us toward the restaurant, Mariya stares down at her wedding ring, which has me asking, "Do you like it?"
Her eyes dart to me. "What?"
"The ring."
"Yes, it's beautiful." Her gaze flits to my left hand. "Do you like yours?"
"Yes."
It's quiet for a moment, then she asks, "If we were so drunk that we can't remember anything, how did we manage to get a license and rings?"
Shit.
My eyes dart to her before settling back on the road ahead. "Pure fucking luck."
She stares at me for a moment. "Can you remember anything?"
Every single detail of last night. The way you tasted. The sound of your moan when you get lost in a kiss. Your smile. The way you looked at me as if I was your entire world when we said our vows. How it felt to hold you in my arms.
"No."
She sighs, then stares out the window. "It sucks. I always thought I'd have a big wedding." Sadness tugs at her mouth. “I missed out on what was supposed to be the most important day of my life."
Guilt rears up, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. I never thought of that. I stole the entire experience from her.