October 10th, 1970

    After waking on my third day in the hospital, I was seen by the doctor again. A choice was given to me to either to undergo a short procedure that would extract the pregnancy from me, or to take a course of medication that would do the same. I chose the latter, but I wondered to myself, as I came in and out of lucidity, if surgery had been the better option.
    Cameron stayed with me for the entire time I writhed in the bed. He’d told me that he hadn’t left my side since the ambulance brought us to the hospital, only rarely stepping into the hall for a few minutes at a time. I already loved him deeply, but my love for him grew during this ordeal.
    I was released from the hospital four days after having been admitted. Without much delay, we booked a flight for the same day and returned to Scotland.


    Once we had arrived back at the house in Cairnie, it was early morning. I took a much-needed shower and tried not to think too much as the water poured onto me. I’d dried off and put on underwear and a nightshirt before I wondered what Cameron was doing and decided to find out.
    “Cameron?” I called out from the top of the stairs. He didn’t answer, so I walked a few steps down before I heard quiet music coming from down the hall.
    ‘I’ll leave him be,’ I told myself, and went back to our bedroom. I crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up high, and fell right asleep.
    I half-woke when I felt Cameron crawl into bed beside me. He shifted close to me and held me against him. ‘Little spoon,’ I thought happily, and fell back into my dreams without wondering what time it was.


    The next time I woke, I glanced at the clock. It had just passed seven, and from the lack of light coming in through the curtains I assumed it was evening. I slowly got out of bed, not wanting to wake Cameron. I doubted he had slept more than a few hours in the past five days and wanted him to rest.
    In the bathroom, I washed my face and passed a brush through my hair. It didn’t make much of a difference in my mood, but at least I didn’t look as though I’d just crawled out of a cave. I was still sore all over; my body ached and though it was slowly subsiding, I could still feel the effects of the ordeal.
    Cameron said my name softly as I walked back towards the bed. I smiled in response and lay back down beside him.
    “How are you feeling?” he asked softly.
    “Better,” I replied. “A little rested, at least.”
    “Good.” He kissed me and I asked how he was doing. “It’s easier,” he answered. “You’re in my arms again.”
    I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes.
    “Emily?” he said softly after a few minutes.
    I hummed in reply.
    “I have something for you,” he explained. “Though, I have a question to ask first.”
    “You can ask me anything.”
    We sat up in bed with our backs against the headboard. Cameron turned away from me for a moment and I heard the nightstand drawer open. A dull thud as he closed it, before turning back towards me with a small velvet pouch in his hand.
    I gazed at Cameron without saying anything. A moment passed before he drew a breath and looked into my eyes.
    “Will you be handfast to me?” His voice was soft and loving, but I could still hear the pain behind it.
    His question took me by surprise. I gazed down at the velvet pouch between us and back to Cameron. “You want to marry me?” I whispered.
    “Yes. Of course I do,” he spoke, reaching a hand out to touch my own.
    I wanted to cry. “I can’t marry you,” I answered. My voice was barely audible and heavy with sadness. I forced myself to look at him, my eyes tearing up. “Cameron, I…” I took a breath and tried to finish my sentence. “I lost our… I can’t.”
    The corners of his mouth tugged upwards slightly; he pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. “Sweet, sweet Emily,” he cooed.
    “You can’t love me anymore,” I cried in a whisper.
    “Are you telling me or asking me?” he said in a soft voice. Cameron put his hand on my cheek and lifted my gaze to meet his. “You know my heart better than anyone.”
    My eyes welled up but he didn’t let me speak.
    “You’re a fool sometimes,” he told me, a small chuckle escaping him. “We did lose something,” he admitted. “But it isn’t your fault, nor mine.”
    His lips touched mine, softly and only for a moment.
    “I had hours and hours to think in that room. Too many,” he confessed. “But I realized something as I watched you.”
    “What?” I murmured.
    “I was utterly terrified, seeing you in that state.” Cameron shook his head slightly before continuing. “I never want to be without you, Emily.”
    His words brought me to tears, but I smiled despite myself.
    “You must be a fool if you think I could ever stop loving you,” he added.
    “I’m sorry, Cameron,” I told him, my voice still quiet. “I’m just… I’m afraid.”
    “I know, my love,” he comforted. “I’m frightened too.” He paused for a moment before speaking with more urgency than before. “I will give you a wedding, Emily. I promise you that. But right now, I want to promise myself to you.”
    “I do love you, Cameron,” I insisted. “More than I thought I could.”
    “Let’s handfast, then,” he repeated with a sweet smile that made my worry dissipate. “Right here.”
    I kissed him, then put my forehead against his. “Okay,” I agreed. “I will.”
    Cameron’s smile grew and he kissed me one more. He opened the velvet pouch and took from it a braid of two colours: brown and blue.
    “A blue ribbon and a brown one. Your eyes and mine,” Cameron explained. “Do you know how this works?”
    “Not in practice, no,” I admitted.
    “It is no more complicated than fasting our hands,” Cameron said, taking my hand in his and squeezing lightly, “and declaring ourselves united. The braid is mostly symbolic,” he added. “Most times, a witness will wrap and tie the knot around the joined hands. But we’ll make do.”
    He winked at me, making me chuckle. “Doesn’t sound too complicated,” I told him.
    We faced each other, then, and placed our hands together. The braces I still wore didn’t allow me to bend two of my fingers, but Cameron made it work. He used his right hand to loosely wrap the braid around our clasped hands, concentration showing on his face as he did so. I watched him slip his hand back under the braid and squeeze my hands gently.
    “Emily,” he murmured, looking into my eyes. “I vow to you that I will share your laughter and join in your happiness. I will share your pain and strive to ease it. You will always have me as your own.”
    My cheeks burned at his words. I kept my eyes locked with his and spoke with intent and passion. “I will love you always, Cameron, and always stand with you,” I promised. “You will never have to search for me because I will be at your side. That is my vow to you.”
    I hadn’t needed to search for those words. They had been burning inside me for months, and etched into my heart forever.
    Cameron looked at me, tenderness in his eyes. “I promise myself united to you.”
    “And I to you,” I replied.
    He leaned forward and met my lips with his. He kissed me softly, but with clear purpose. “I love you, Emily.”