“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head and tucking the card into my bra, then patting it.
We all finish getting ready together, and I have a good luck charm for the rest of the day, something I can carry right over my heart.
The ballroom is decorated with green and red ornaments, all hanging at different lengths from the ceiling. Christmas lights are everywhere, and a line of real spruce trees march up and down the sides of the room, making the air fragrant. Before the ceremony, guests were offered warm apple cider and wassail, and many of them partook, which has turned the air cozy with cinnamon and clove.
I walk up the aisle toward Russell, who stands at the front of the room looking at me like he did that first day, at the Christmas ball seven years ago now. Like he did in that emergency room, talking to the boy he didn’t know was his son. Like he looked at me when I agreed to marry him for his inheritance, and like he looked when I agreed to do it for real.
In fact, it’s the way he looked at me yesterday morning, the last time I saw him before now. Ettie and Sienna insisted we do the wholenight before the weddingthing, so last night was the first time in a long time I slept in a bed by myself, not pressed up against his body. Even though I hated it, she was right—abstaining from him for twelve hours has only made me want him, and our wedding night, more.
Orie is Russell’s best man, but Cal is right next to Orie in the line. For his side of the attendees, it’s mostly people he’s known his entire life, from the hospital and from his charity work. On my side, somehow, my mother is here.
Things haven’t been perfect, but she has been sober since that day she called me from the rehab center. Gus even sitsnext to her now, after fulfilling his ring bearer obligation. Ray and Rory were our flower children, and they sit with Alena, who looks radiant and happy two years post-divorce.
Even Yolanda and Antony—along with some of my other clients—are here. Those first clients stuck with me through the ups and downs, and now we’re friends and each other’s closest advisers as we ride the wave of our children being in the limelight.
“You look fucking spectacular,” Russell mutters, when I get to the altar, and I can’t stop myself from laughing, rolling my eyes at him.
The officiant clears his throat and chuckles, and the rest of the room laughs—not having heard what my to-be husband said, but probably having an idea.
“You too,” I say back, quickly, because it’s true. He cuts an imposing figure in his suit, his hair a little more salt than pepper now, but just as appealing as it was the day I met him. Ettie takes my bouquet from me, and I’m glad when Russell takes my hands in his—anything to keep them from going rogue and reaching for him right now.
We move through the ceremony, and though my hands are shaking, I manage to make it through my vows with a grace Gus, our aspiring actor, should be proud of.
Then it’s time for Russell’s.
“I’m not going to share the story of the day we met, because that’s our own private memory,” Russell says, staring down at me with a look that combines pride, love, adoration, and a touch of lust. “But I will say this—the first time I met you, you read me instantly. You said I was arrogant, that I assumed people would like me, and that I had a god-complex.”
I’m not sure I said that last bit, but our friends and family are laughing, and Russell is looking at me like he might have a god-complex, but I’m his goddess, so I let it slide.
“And you were right. I’ve had a lot of successes in life, Jules, and arguably, a lot of reasons to be confident. But being with you is the single greatest achievement of my life, and I can’t wait to keep earning you, every single day.”
Though my happily ever after has been playing out for a few years now,thisfeels like the crowning achievement. I’m glad we’ve given this two years—two years of Russell and Gus becoming best friends. Two years of career success and pizza nights and happy, happy moments.
Although I’ll always hold many other days and moments—when Gus was born, when I met Russell, when my PR firm went into the black—close to my heart, I know this is the best. This moment in which I’ve finally gone from fiancée to wife. The moment in which our family is official, legal, and forever.
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant says to Russell.
And so, he does.
