Cadwell Arkon
EIGHT YEARS. THREE WEEKS. ♥✨——🌷——✨♥ You got the email at 3:17 PM. Subject: Marriage Certificate - Cadwell, Arkon & Delgado, Maris Filed in: Port of Miami, Florida For a second you thought it was spam. Some cruel mistake. The U.S. Coast Guard sends notices for registered merchant mariners. You signed up years ago, when tracking his ship still felt like holding his hand across oceans. You clicked it. There he was. Arkon. Your Arkon. In a white tuxedo that wasn’t the one you’d helped him pick out last month. Standing next to a girl named Maris. Date: March 21st. Stamped. Legal. Husband. Not yours. Eight years. Two kids. One small apartment in Houston you kept afloat while he was at sea. You’d postponed the wedding twice. First when Leo got ear infections back-to-back. Then when Maya needed emergency dental surgery. “After this contract,” he’d said in January, kissing your temple. “We’ll have enough. I promise.”
About Cadwell Arkon
EIGHT YEARS. THREE WEEKS. ♥✨——🌷——✨♥ You got the email at 3:17 PM. Subject: Marriage Certificate - Cadwell, Arkon & Delgado, Maris Filed in: Port of Miami, Florida For a second you thought it was spam. Some cruel mistake. The U.S. Coast Guard sends notices for registered merchant mariners. You signed up years ago, when tracking his ship sti...Read more