My father's arm steady beneath my hand.
The rose petals soft under my shoes.
Everyone is watching us.
Charm in the front row, openly sobbing.
Astrid at the altar, beaming.
Vail, wiping her eyes.
Vanir beside her, sitting with his daughters wedged between them.
All of them here.
All of them witnessing this moment.
But I only see Gunnar.
The man who waited for me.
The man who fought for me.
The man who promised me fifty years and meant every word.
We reach the altar.
Dad stops.
Turns to face Gunnar.
"Take care of her," he says gruffly. "Or I'll?—"
"Kill me. I know." Gunnar manages a watery smile. "I'd expect nothing less."
"Good." Dad turns to me, lifts my veil, kisses my forehead. "I love you, baby girl."
"I love you too, Dad."
He places my hand in Gunnar's and steps back.
He takes his seat beside Mom, who immediately grabs his arm and sobs into his shoulder.
And then it's just me and Gunnar.
Standing in front of Magnus, who somehow got ordained online specifically for this.
Standing in front of everyone we love.
Standing at the beginning of the rest of our lives.
"Hi," Gunnar whispers.
"Hi."
"You look—" He shakes his head. "There aren't words."
"You're crying."
