“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” the minister asks.
When she reaches the altar, her mother looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. Her voice trembles, but it’s strong. “Her father and I do.” The words hit me square in the chest. Reese’s jaw quivers, but she holds it together. Her mom presses a kiss to her cheek, then steps back, leaving her hand in mine.
The second her skin touches mine, the noise fades away again. There’s just her. The faint scent of her perfume. The steady thrum of her pulse under my thumb.
“Hey,” I whisper.
Her smile is small and trembling. “Hey, yourself.”
The minister starts speaking, his voice warm and steady, but I can barely hear him over my own heartbeat. Every word feels distant, something happening in another world.
When it’s time for our vows, Abby hands Reese a small piece of paper. She takes a breath, the paper in her hands trembling as she looks up at me.
“When I met you,” she begins softly, “I thought you were the most impossible man alive.”
The crowd chuckles, but her eyes don’t leave mine.
“When you were thrust into my life again and bossing me around, I was sure of it.” She pauses, smiling up at me. “But the universe put me on a path that led me back to you. And when it did, my heart told me that, in spite of the time and heartache, we weren’t done.”
My throat tightens as tears shimmer in her eyes, and she finds the strength to keep going. “You have been my greatest danger and my safest place. You’ve seen every part of me—even the ones I was ashamed of—and you loved me anyway. That’s what I’m promising you now, Chris. To love you through the storms, the silences, the distance, and the dark. To believe in the version of us that keeps finding its way back together, no matter how many times we’re broken.”
She pauses, her voice cracking. “Because somehow, fate decided we were inevitable. And I think she’s right.”
I’m gone. Absolutely undone. My vision blurred with tears.
The minister nods toward me. “Christopher?” I have to swallow hard before I can even think about speaking. “Your vows?”
I reach into my pocket, pulling out my own crumpled page, but I don’t bother looking at it. I can’t. I just look at her.
“I spent most of my life convinced I wasn’t designed for peace,” I start quietly. “That I was built for noise. Or conflict, command, control. The kind of life where you never let anyone close enough to see what it costs you.”
I take a breath, my voice catching. “And then you came back into my life and ruined that. You looked at me like I was worth saving, even when I didn’t believe it myself. You called me out when I needed it, you challenged me, and somehow, you loved me through every version of myself that tried to push you away. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. But I know I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you already think I am.”
Her lips tremble, and a single tear rolls down her cheek.
I step closer, lowering my voice. “You’re my truth, Reese. My home. Every battle I’ve ever fought led me here. To you. And if fate had to drag us through hell to get us here, just know I’d do it all over again if it meant I got to have you.”
The minister’s voice is steady but distant now, the formal words flowing like background music.Rings. Promises. To love and to cherish.When the moment comes, I slide the ring onto her finger. The gold glints against her skin, delicate and sure. She does the same, her hands shaking as she pushes the thick band over my knuckle.
Then the minister closes his book and smiles.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The words hang in the air, almost sounding unreal.
“You may kiss the bride.”
I don’t wait for him to finish. My hand comes to her cheek, and I pull her in, kissing her with every ounce of love I’ve carried for the past ten years. Every regret. Every night spent longing. Every quiet moment that led me to this one.
Her arms loop around my neck, fingers curling into my hair. She kisses me back like the world is on fire and we’re the only ones who have survived.
Applause breaks out somewhere behind us—cheers and whistles—but all I can feel is her. Her breath. Her heart. Her ring pressing against my jaw. When we finally pull apart, she’s crying, and I’m smiling so wide it hurts.
“Hi, husband,” she whispers.
“Hi, wife,” I murmur back, pressing my lips lightly against hers.
The minister chuckles softly, stepping aside as the music swells again. We turn toward the aisle, her hand tight in mine, and start walking together through the soft scatter of petals and candlelight.
At the end of the aisle, we pause under the wooden archway. She glances up, her eyes shining with unfallen tears and promise.
