I lean down to kiss him, but a sharp tut stops me. I look around to find Vanessa waiting for us with her arms folded. She’s wearing a lilac trouser suit teamed up with a white crepe blouse.
“You’re not meant to kiss him until you’re married,” she says.
“I’m sure that tradition is outdated,” I grumble. “We’ve kissed lots.”
Fitz grins at me and shrugs.
“Are you ready?” Vanessa asks. “The registrar is getting a little twitchy.”
I breathe in deeply but don’t manage to speak.
“We’re ready,” Fitz says, tightening his grip on my hand.
“I’ll go tell everyone.”
She slips back inside the room. A moment later, the registrar asks everyone to stand for the grooms, and all our guests rise and turn to face the door. We’re waiting just out of their sight.
“We could still run,” I say.
“We’re not running. Come on.”
Together, we step into the room. Vanessa and Max are standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for us with the registrar. Everyone stares at us dewy-eyed, and there are plenty ofoohsandaahs. I’m not sure why. It’s not like either of us is wearing a dramatic dress or anything. But I guess we do both scrub up nicely.
Tilly runs to us, accidentally scattering blossom petals from her basket in her hurry. She flings her arms around Fitz, then me, and then stands in front of us, a handful of petals at the ready. Music starts to play, and she rushes forward, throwing fistfuls of petals this way and that as she goes. By the time she’s halfway down the aisle, her basket is empty, and we’ve barely moved. There are lots of chuckles, and she seems happy, so it’s all good. As she passes her parents, Stephen catches hold of her and sits her on his lap.
Fitz and I walk over the scattered petals. I look at him rather than anyone else. I’m trembling from nerves but focusing on him makes everything better.
When we reach the front of the aisle, we face each other with a gap between us so everyone can see the registrar. Vanessa stands behind me, and Max is behind Fitz. The registrar is shorter than Fitz and has a round, cheerful face and red cheeks.
“Please be seated,” she says.
For half a second, my knees decide they want to obey her, even though there’s no chair waiting for me because Fitz and I are meant to stay standing. Fitz grins at me as he holds my hand tighter. Surprisingly, that keeps me upright.
“Good afternoon,” the registrar begins. “Adrian and Fitz have asked you to witness their marriage vows and to share in their happiness as they start their married life.”
As the registrar continues to read her script, I gaze into Fitz’s brown eyes. There are days when I still have to pinch myself to prove this isn’t a dream I’m going to wake up from. It’s incredible to think that we’re standing here on a sunny March afternoon about to commit to each other for the rest of our lives when, just over a year ago, we were convinced we were nothing more than friends. Best friends, but friends nonetheless. All it took was a kick in the right direction and a single kiss to change the course of our friendship forever. Okay, two kisses, but Fitz’s initial peck doesn’t count.
My thoughts drift back to the moment, allowing the registrar’s words to reach my ears again.
“Marriage is a promise between two people who love each other and wish to spend their future together.”
I do want to spend my future with Fitz. Pinkie promise aside, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather grow old with, especially if he keeps making me cupcakes every day.
“It is making a commitment to share their dreams and memories, their joy and laughter, and to help and support one another through whatever life brings.”
Isn’t that what we’ve always done? We’ve been there for each other, every step of the way, side by side.
“It calls for trust, understanding, and encouragement, a willingness to accept each other as they are, the courage to grow and change together.”
We have grown and changed together since that kiss. Before that too, but the kiss left us both reeling as we navigated what it meant for us as a couple and as individuals. But we got through it together with hugs, kisses, experimentation, and laughter. I sigh. I love Fitz with all my heart, and nothing will ever change that.
“Adrian and Fitz have found happiness, fulfilment, and love, and they now wish to affirm their relationship. Please reply ‘I am’ to the following question. Are you, Adrian Kennedy, free lawfully to marry Fitz McIntyre?”
I clear my throat as my heart starts to hammer. Ihatepublic speaking. “I am.” My voice is hushed, which causes everyone to chuckle.
The registrar repeats the question to Fitz, who answers much more boldly. Next, the registrar looks at me pointedly, reminding me I have some legal words to say.
I stare into Fitz’s eyes, and for a moment, I’m able to forget that anyone else is here. For a moment, it’s just him and me as I make my declaration of marriage.
